#I’m just mad that I came into this movie expecting something mid and was SO IMPRESSED | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

titan-fodder · 4 years ago

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Prima Vista Part VIII

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Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~13.2k

Warnings: this one fucking hurts, pining, stupid decisions, miscommunications, explicit sexual content (it’s time for something we’ve been waiting for), yet another party, angst A/N: Read this, but before you murder me remember there’s one more after this. Also, this isn’t the big thing you’ve been waiting for, but I know it’s something a lot of people have wanted to see. Enjoy this ouchie.

Mike doesn’t feel human when he wakes up. He’s nearly positive he no longer is—body taken over by some creature of the bog with toxic breath. Jesus, what the fuck happened last night?

Blinking hurts. Shifting his leg hurts. His chest is fucking killing him, feels like he bruised his god damn sternum, and when he moves to sit up in a bed that is not his, overwhelming nausea has Mike groaning and covering his mouth with one hand.

“He has risen,” a vaguely familiar baritone voice rings through the air, loud enough to make Mike wave his other hand in an attempt to mute it. Erwin chuckles, paying him no attention apparently as he speaks again, “Good timing, too. I just came to drop this off.”

Mike tries to focus his bleary eyes on the nightstand where his friend sets down a bottle of water, a bigger bottle of Gatorade, and several liquid gel pills.

“Chill here for as long as you need. I’m just watching the pledges clean downstairs. Want me to bring the trash can over?” Erwin’s concern can’t entirely hide the amusement in his voice. It’s irritating, but also… Mike needs that trash can.

“Yeah,” he croaks through his palm. “Thanks.”

Erwin nods and grabs the little plastic bin, setting it down next to the bed. Mike considers just picking it up and sitting with it in his lap, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to stay upright for long enough.

“I’ll be downstairs. If you need anything, you’ll just have to yell because your phone is definitely sitting in a bag of rice in the kitchen right now.”

“What?” Mike frowns. How even…

“It got wet,” Erwin states, like that clarifies anything. “Probably in the shower.”

“Why was I—”

“We can talk about it when you’re less…” Erwin gestures to Mike’s face with one finger and grimaces as he finishes, “Green. You didn’t do anything too terrible, though, so you can rest easy.”

He leaves, and Mike chokes down the pills and a few gulps of water before gently laying back down. He has to retrace metaphorical footsteps to get to the last thing he remembers from the night before, and it’s body shots off some blonde clone. His order of events goes: hanging out with Rhi, talking with you and Erwin, Zeke showing up, catching Eren mid-roofie attempt and throwing him out, getting mad at Nile, and then just a lot of drinking. Too much. Of different kinds. That had been dumb.

He thinks he spent a little while in the bathroom. Erwin was there. And, Nile came and went. He thinks he may have heard your voice a few times but can’t be sure, and honestly, trying to recall anything from the period of time his brain was literally incapable of processing new memories is a pretty big waste of time.

Mike spends most of the day in Erwin’s room. He drifts in and out of restless sleep, waking up to drink his water and Gatorade. At some point, one of the kids, Jean, knocks on the door and drops a bowl of soup off, mumbles, “Erwin told me to bring this up here.” Mike hasn’t spent a ton of time around the current pledge class, but Erwin must like Jean if he trusted the kid enough to give him his room code.

The soup settles his stomach enough to move around a little more. His headache ebbs into a dull throb, and the sharp ache in his chest fades into that of a bruise. By around five o'clock, Mike is finally able to amble downstairs, give everyone a tired wave, mumble his thanks to Erwin, then drive himself to his apartment.

He's still trying to piece together what happened the night before, but he just ends up more confused than before, so he decides to put it behind him and move on. Everyone deserves a wild night every once in a while.

Thanksgiving nears. Mike has already made plans to go home to his parents which means he has to turn down the Pike house Friendsgiving offer that Erwin extends to him.

He tells Mike that Nile and Hitch will be there, but Marie might show her face, "So, that will be interesting."

Some of the brothers who can't make it home will attend. Erwin is bringing Maddie who Mike hasn't heard about in several months, but he's pretty sure that's just to throw him off the scent of whatever Erwin has going on with you. You, who will also be in attendance because apparently your mom opted to go on a girls trip instead of face the family. Mike can't blame her.

He thinks maybe he should reach out to you, to ask about the night he blacked out because he has a feeling you can give him some details that others can't, but Erwin assures Mike that you were only in the bathroom with him for a short time. "Just long enough to see you rip your shirt which she seemed a little too happy about."

Mike doesn't know what he'd say to you anyway. Even after learning that Zeke had blocked his number in your phone. He's still mad that you let the fucker get close enough to do that in the first place, that you had chosen him. It's a wound that just won't heal. Any time he sees you or hears your name, all Mike can think about is why he wasn't good enough.

So, he keeps distancing himself. It seems like the most appropriate thing he can do until he decides he'll be able to have a conversation with you without blowing up.

Mike's parents are happy to see him when he walks in the door. Scout jumps on him until he picks her up and holds her like the puppy she is not. He isn't surprised when his mom asks about you, if you and Mike sorted things out. The question hurts even if he was expecting it, seems like yesterday you were walking around the house like you'd always been a part of it.

Lying is the easiest path to take. He tells his parents that you had to go home for the break, that you couldn't split up your time between two families in just four days, and, of course, they buy it.

Thanksgiving day is nice enough. The family travels a couple cities over to Mike's aunt and uncle's house. It's much bigger, has room for the relatives that are able to make it. There are traditional Greek dishes as well as the usual turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce, etc. A few pictures here and there, entertaining his younger cousins—it's a good time.

Until Mike checks his various social media apps and sees the pictures from Friendsgiving.

They're tame, nothing wildly inappropriate, but they still make Mike scowl as he thumbs through them.

One of Nile cutting into the turkey, of Reiner ripping into a drumstick, Connie hoarding all of the cranberry sauce while his best friend, a girl named Sasha, does the same with the deviled eggs. Gelgar looks to be crying with a dot of potato salad in his hair. Marie is indeed there, glaring in the background of a photo where Nile and Hitch are tapping beer bottles together with silly smiles. She looks much happier in the shot of her and Maddie sitting together, laughing over glasses of wine.

Mike's heart stutters when he gets to a photo of you aiming to toss food into Reiner's mouth, then of you and Erwin both holding beers in one hand and pointing matching finger guns with the other.

Thick as fucking thieves. Two peas in a god damn pod. Mike wants to throw his phone out the window of his dad's suburban.

There are several more pictures that Mike doesn't bother to look at. He'd like to have a good time with his parents for the remainder of his break, and there's no way he'll be able to do that if he's pissed off.

So, he distracts himself. He goes on walks with Scout and plays with her for hours, watches old movies with his mom and dad, calls a couple relatives from overseas to catch up. But, those pictures are seared into the back of his mind, surfacing whenever he has down time.

He doesn't have any desire to go back to campus, not if he's gonna see you and Erwin together. His friend can deny it all he wants, but Mike knows something is going on between the two of you, and as he drives back to the college, he finally has the realization that… you might just be a shitty person.

Yeah, you have issues, but so does everyone. It doesn't excuse you from—from fucking toying with people, from using them as puppets whenever you need to. Mike wishes he'd never even tempted you to sleep with him that last time. It had felt too good and too right, but apparently you don't feel the same way. You went right back to Zeke once you'd gotten what you wanted, and Mike should have seen that coming. He should have been prepared for it. On some level he knew that's what you'd do, but that never stopped him from hoping that maybe… maybe it would have opened your eyes.

Plus, it ruined the entire Jurassic Park franchise for him, so that sucks.

He picks up where he left off both in his classes and in his social life. He stays away from PKA as much as he can but still attends meetings when necessary. The lacrosse season is coming to an end, so he tries to make the most of it. Rhi ends up in his bed again, both of them taking what they can from each other. Erwin jokes that he's gonna fall in love with her— "You know what happened the last time you tried to keep it casual," —and Mike nearly decks him in the face.

You don't try to talk to him, no texts or calls. When you see each other on campus, you don't spare him more than a sad glance as you pass him.

Mike is fine with it. He isn't about to be the one to make the move to talk things out. Honestly, he doesn't know if there's anything to talk out. You dated Zeke, and now you're dating Mike's best friend and trying to hide it.

He's mad at both of you, but it's easier to channel that blistering anger toward you rather than Erwin who he has to see on a regular basis. Besides, Erwin has always gotten around. Mike isn't especially surprised that he'd try his hand with you especially after what happened at the ranch house, but fuck, couldn't he have waited until after he and Mike graduated or something? Just disrespectful. That's what it is.

"Bro, I do not wanna go to another party," Mike's voice rises in frustration. "Consider me partied the fuck out, okay? I'm tired of 'em."

"It's not even a party," Erwin tells him. "It's more like a gathering of… like-minded individuals."

Mike snorts. "Yeah, okay."

"I'm not kidding! Like, twelve people at the most. All we're doing is hanging out at the ranch house."

"Will there be drinking?" Mike questions, moving his head back and forth in a mocking way.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders where he sits. "Of course there'll be drinking, but you don't have to partake. I just want you there to chill. Come on, man."

"Who's going?"

The blond lists off some of the Friendsgiving group, but he doesn't get to finish because once Erwin utters your name, Mike cuts him off with a loud, "Nope!"

"Duuuude," Erwin sounds like the frustrated one now, not that he has any right to be.

"Don't dude me! Why the fuck would you think I'd have any interest in watching you two giggle and cuddle n' shit."

"Mike," Erwin groans, rubbing his forehead. "How many times do I have to tell you…"

"You don't have to tell me anything. I already know what I need to know."

Standing up, Erwin seems like he's at his wit's end when he barks, "You don't know shit! You're seeing what you want to see without asking either of us! She misses you, dude. I'm just the next best thing."

"Nice to know your dick game isn't better than mine at least," Mike grumbles.

"Jesus Christ, you know what? I don't care. Come to the house, or don't come. Whatever."

Erwin takes long strides to get to Mike's front door, obviously ready to get away from him. He slams it hard enough to make Mike flinch.

He doesn't care how annoyed Erwin is with him. It's partially his fault that Mike doesn't want to go to the gathering, and he should know that. He'll come to understand eventually, and that thought makes it easier for Mike to make his decision. He's not gonna go. He refuses. There's no way. He won't—

Mike ends up going.

After powering through finals and visiting his parents for another few days. He has a mental debate the entire way to the ranch house, swearing to himself, going over the pros and cons. He comes close to turning around more than a few times, but after a couple hours, Mike finally pulls into the large circle drive right behind Levi's black Prius.

Erwin is extremely surprised to see him but keeps his mouth closed about it, just tells him, "Room upstairs on the far right is still open."

Mike drops his stuff off then greets the others—Nile, Gelgar, Reiner, Jean, Marco, and Levi.

"Wasn't expecting to see you here," the last states, focused on burning the loose string of his hoodie with a lighter. "Erwin told me you guys had some bullshit argument."

"Happens sometimes," Mike dismisses as he takes a place on the couch.

"I guess. This is why I don't have a lot of friends. Can't put up with stupid shit like that."

"Oh, is that why?" Mike rolls his eyes.

Levi snickers, shaking his head. "Aw man, he was right. You are in a bad mood, aren't ya'?

"Man, fuck off."

They sit in silence for a few minutes. Mike is bouncing his foot where it's thrown over his opposite leg—anxious or angry or some other negative emotion he needs to get rid of.

"Party's gonna be a fucking sausage fest," Levi mumbles.

Nile passes behind the couch just in time to hear and informs the smaller man, "Not entirely. Maddie, Marie, Hitch, and Mike's little heartbreaker should be getting here soon."

Mike groans internally but speaks out loud, "This was a mistake. I can't fucking be here if you guys keep talking about her."

"If you can't handle us talking about her, how're you gonna handle seeing her?" Levi scoffs.

Erwin has stocked the bar with craft beer and various wines. Mike considers going ahead and breaking a few bottles open, but he resists—doesn't want a repeat of the forgotten party.

They set up a horror video game upstairs and an animated adult series downstairs. Erwin wasn't lying about it being a more relaxed environment than usual, but that doesn't stop Mike's neck from prickling when you arrive with Hitch at around five. Maddie and Marie show up a couple hours later, and Mike can feel the tension that surrounds all four of you. Amusing as it can be, he really doesn't have the patience for cattiness tonight.

High quality Chinese food is provided courtesy of Erwin's father's credit card as well as dipped strawberries that Nile keeps feeding Hitch. It gets Marie very heated very quickly, and Maddie has to talk her down in another room.

It makes Mike wonder if you would ever let him feed you like that or if you would snort and bat his hand away. What the fuck do you think you're doing, Zacharias? That's couples shit.

It makes him sigh and slouch on the couch, thankful you're upstairs watching Connie play the most recent Resident Evil.

He knows you're not a fan of horror, so the only reason you'd be up there is to avoid Mike.

Good.

Erwin is the first to open the wine. Maddie won't leave his side, stuck to him like a magnet. The fact that he has to get a drink only furthers Mike's theory that Erwin didn't invite her as a real date.

He spends a fair amount of time shooting the shit with Levi. It isn't necessarily the most enjoyable conversation considering Levi's constant smartass comments, but it's better than trudging up to the second floor.

Nile fucks Hitch in the bathroom for everyone to hear. Marie starts crying and runs to the porch. This gathering is about as insufferable as Mike assumed it would be.

Eventually, you journey downstairs. It was inevitable. You spare Mike a glance and sigh as you make your way to the kitchen to grab a beer—you don't even like beer, so why—

"Hey, can you grab me one too?" Erwin calls out, and when you hand it to him, he gives you that hundred watt grin Mike knows brings girls to their knees, but while Maddie stares at him with that dreamy look in her eyes, you just snort and gently shove him.

"Don't fuckin' look at me like that, Smith."

Ah, the last name card, the one that you pull to act like you're all aloof when really you're just reeling them in.

"Like what?" Erwin asks before taking a sip, still smiling around the rim of the bottle.

"You know what."

Mike chooses then to go upstairs, knowing he steals your attention as he stomps like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Why did he even come here? Was it just to give himself more reason to brood? Solidify that he's valid in being angry?

Connie is trembling as his character makes his way through a decrepit house. Jean laughs every few minutes, but he also startles at every jump scare, leaving Reiner to call both of them pussies as he bites into strawberry after strawberry, throwing the stems into a little bowl in his lap. Mike supposes the first years are entertaining enough. He can see why Erwin invited them here.

It's close to nine o'clock. Mike is bored out of his mind, can't help venturing back downstairs mostly because he's tired of watching the pledges swear and shout at the video game (including Reiner now) but also out of morbid curiosity.

Marie has returned and is sitting in the kitchen with Maddie, both of whom are glaring into the den where you, Erwin, Nile, and Hitch share the couch. Hitch may as well be in Nile's lap, but you're sitting on the back ridge, feet planted on the cushions as you hunch forward and nurse a beer. Your knee is against Erwin's arm, but that's the only point of contact. Still, whenever something funny is said on the TV show, he looks up at you, as if to check that you're laughing, taking it in. Mike can't blame him. You have one of the cutest laughs he's ever heard.

Levi and Gelgar are both on plush loveseats on opposite sides of the room, either scrolling or typing on their phones.

Again, Mike has to think about how laid back the party is—even if he's a mess. It's so different from the raucous scenes he's used to—blasting music and keg stands and dancing on tables. This would be infinitely preferable if it weren't for the open pit in Mike's stomach.

If he could just chill the fuck out, pay absolutely no attention to you and Erwin and the way his fingers slowly wrap around your ankle when you won't stop bouncing your leg.

Not together his ass.

When Mike gets a text from Rhi, he basically sighs in relief—the perfect opportunity to forget about you for a while.

He doesn't bother asking to make sure it's okay with the host, just messages back, what are you doing rn? and immediately asks her to come over, knowing she only lives about an hour away.

Naturally, she agrees. One of the only great things about Rhi is that she’s always, always down to fuck. Mike doesn’t know if it has something to do with his size or if she just has a high sex drive. Either way, he’s glad for it..

He meets her on the porch after waiting for what feels like an eternity, just having to sit and watch you kick Erwin’s thigh whenever he says something dumb. He always retaliates by pulling on your little toes which makes you squeak and almost fall off the couch. It’s fucking maddening, makes Mike want to pull his hair out or throw something, just trash the fucking house because Erwin deserves it.

But, then Rhi arrives in all her Ugg boot glory, wearing the old, green hoodie that you had given back to Mike a few months ago.

They walk in, Mike’s hands on her shoulders like he’s pushing her over the threshold. You look up, take the other girl in, then very quickly step off the couch and prance into the kitchen without saying a word.

Erwin, however, makes up for your silence, wide eyed as he stares at Rhi and utters, “Fuck.”

* You didn’t want to be like Maddie and Marie, jogging to a private place to cry over a fucking boy, but god, you are definitely locked in the bathroom, hunched over the sink sobbing as quietly as you can. Your nose is running, and your eyes are burning, leaking god damn rivers

It wouldn’t have been so bad if she was just in her normal winter sorority get-up. But the hoodie? The one you wore for months on end, the one Mike would sniff whenever he would lay his head on your stomach, mumbling something about, “Smells good. Might have to take it back.” He didn’t have to say it out loud, but you knew he always felt a little jolt of pride when you’d wear it, like you were advertising how close you were to him.

So, to see another girl wearing it—to see Rhi wearing it—it fucking hurts. Your throat is sore from holding back those loud, pained cries. Your stomach is rolling like you ate something spoiled. Your fingers ache from digging into the fancy, granite sink. Everything hurts.

It makes you wonder if Mike felt like this when you first told him about Zeke, if he feels like this now that he thinks you’re with Erwin—stupid, stupid, stupid. You shouldn’t have waited so long to talk to him. You should have cleared things up right after the party. Now, it’s too late.

There’s a knock on the door that makes you sniff and wipe your nose, but you still tell whoever is on the other side (most likely Hitch or Erwin), “Go away.”

“It’s me.” Erwin. "Let me in."

"Literally what did I just say?"

"If you don't unlock the door, I'll kick it in. It's my house, so I won't get in trouble for it."

"Oh my god," you grumble before turning the lock on the knob. "Spoiled fucking brat."

Erwin steps in and closes the door then takes a good look at your puffy face and red eyes. Sighing, he leans against the wall. "For the record, I didn't invite her. Mike must have—"

"That doesn't make me feel any better," you say, grabbing some toilet paper to blow your nose. "Actually, it makes me feel even worse."

"I just wanted to make sure you knew."

"What, d'you want brownie points or something?" You ask sarcastically, making sure the toilet lid is down before sitting on it, bracing your arms on your knees and looking up at Erwin to find him frowning. "Sorry. I'm being a bitch, I know."

He waves it off. "It's understandable. I'm not very happy with him either. The perpetual shitty mood is driving me crazy."

You don't know much about that other than it being entirely your fault, so you apologize, "Yeah, sorry about that."

"If you guys would have just talked it out like adults—"

"Well, we didn't, Erwin. And, it seems like it's not even an option any more, so…" you hold your hands out in a clueless fashion, like you're at a loss. "I don't know what you want me to do."

Your voice is thick, straining against the lump in your throat. Vision going blurry again, you shove your palms against your eyes, repeating, no more crying, no more crying, no more crying.

"I'm sorry he's doing this to you," Erwin says quietly.

You sniffle, almost laugh when you reply, "Not really different from what I did to him. Like," you have to blow your nose again so it doesn't start running, toss the toilet paper into the waste basket next to you. "I don't know if he's trying to get back at me or legitimately moving on, but I can't exactly hold it against him."

"Still," Erwin takes a couple steps toward you. "Pulling this kind of shit is fucked up. He had to have known it would hurt you on some level."

"You don't have to, like, take my side or whatever," you state. "I know we're friends and all, but you don't have to coddle me like this."

"I'm not trying to coddle you. I'm sympathizing. There's a difference."

"Whatever it is, it's unnecessary," you mumble.

"Yeah?" Another step closer so that he's right in front of you. "So, you weren't planning on crying in here for the rest of the night?"

"No," you're quick to deny, but your lips quirk upward when you correct, "I was gonna go up to my room and cry in there for the rest of the night."

Erwin shakes his head then pulls you into a strange embrace, pressing your face to his stomach with one hand while the other settles between your shoulder blades.

Your first instinct is to shove him away, but his shirt is soft and smells like detergent, and his stomach is firm and grounding against your cheek, and the knuckles rubbing up and down the top of your spine are warm and soothing.

So, you stay in the slightly awkward position, shutting your eyes and trying to relax, but all you can think about is Mike walking in with his hands on Rhi and the way she looked in his hoodie. Is she cuter than you? Does she smell better than you? Does she treat him better than you did?

Tears well up in your eyes once again, dampening Erwin's shirt as they slip over your waterline, and before you know it, you're clutching the material covering the small of his back and crying against him.

And, he lets you—just keeps stroking between your shoulders and shushing you with a quiet, "I know, I know. It'll be okay."

Erwin is cocky and bold, takes things a little too far sometimes, but, just as you thought last year after he stole that kiss, he is good. Even if he's broken too many hearts to count and completely disregarded people's feelings, he's a good guy. At the very least, he's good to you, and that's what you need at the moment.

"What time is it?" You speak into his shirt.

"About eleven thirty."

You hum and turn so that your forehead is resting just above his hips. It could be a suggestive position, but—

But nothing.

You blink a few times, weighing the situation, everything that unfolded tonight—everything that's unfolded over the past semester and… it would make sense. It's not like you've never thought about it before. You're worked up and need to unwind, need to clear your head, and besides, Mike already believes there's something between you and Erwin, so why not take advantage of that?

Sucking on your bottom lip, you go through a list of pros and cons. The biggest downside is that Mike will be upset with you. He already is, though, so there’s isn’t much to lose on that front. The upside is that you'll be able to forget about him for a while and possibly get an orgasm out of it.

"Hey, Erwin…" You're not entirely sure how to bring it up, but it turns out you don't have to.

"Don't fucking ask," he huffs. Perceptive bastard.

You push away from his stomach and look up at him. "Okay, why, though?"

His head is hanging back, gaze trained on the ceiling as he admits, "Because if you ask, I won't say no, and it'll only make things worse."

Something about that gives you butterflies. That's a good sign, means you might be invested enough to finally let your mind wander from Mike.

"Mike already thinks we're fucking, though, so unless you don't actually want to fuck me, I don't see why we shouldn't."

Erwin walks backward until he hits the cabinets. His full lips are pressed into a tight line, and his blue eyes look like a warning. Don't push me.

"Do you honestly think you won't walk away from that feeling guilty?" He questions. "We know we aren't sleeping together, that we aren't actually doing anything wrong even if Mike doesn't believe it. But, to actually go through with it?" Erwin lets out a little chuckle and crosses his arms over his chest. "I probably won't feel bad 'cause I'm kind of an asshole, but you? You will feel awful."

"I already feel awful," you remind him as you stand. "I already feel guilty. If you think I could feel any fucking worse than I already do, you might be overestimating my—my—I don't know—emotional capacity?"

Moving forward, you nudge Erwin out of the way to get to the sink, splashing cold water on your face to clean it of dried tears. You cup a hand under the faucet, then toss some water into your mouth, swishing, and spitting, and turning back around.

Erwin's gaze is dark and not at all subtle when he eyes you up and down.

"I might hurt you, you know," he states in a voice that's considerably deeper than before.

You raise your eyebrows, unconvinced. "You don't have to worry about me catching feelings, Smith. Relax."

Mouth tugging up on one side, Erwin smirks in a way that makes you squirm where you stand.

"That's not what I meant."

It takes you a moment to decipher what he's trying to say, but you breathe an, "Oh," when you realize, then another as it truly sinks in. "Oh."

That's okay, you want to tell him. I want to be hurt tonight. You only want it if it will hurt. If you confess to that desire, though, Erwin might back out—a disappointment considering the way you're starting to get a little excited.

"If I can handle Mike, I can handle you," you say, fully aware that he'll take it as a challenge. If there's one thing you know about men, it's that they thrive off competition.

Erwin is no different as he slides in front of you, hands finding your hips and pulling them to his. He's already half hard in his khakis, and you stand on your tip-toes, brushing against him as you do, to tilt your head back and hover just under his mouth as you tease, "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it before."

"You have no idea how often I've thought about it—how often I think about it."

You nip at his bottom lip, enjoying the way he licks it afterward. "Have you been holding back since we started hanging out—just the two of us?"

His fingers dig into your back, just above the curve of your ass, and you already know there will be small bruises left behind.

"Do you want me to paint a picture?" He rumbles, and you nod, pressing a kiss to his throat. "Any time I have you in my room I think about fucking you. On the bed. Over my desk. Up against a wall…" A little gasp makes its way out of him as you bite down on the skin you've been sucking on, and Erwin ruts against you a couple times before continuing, voice a little more strangled than before.

"Thought about fucking you downstairs on the couch for the whole frat to see, all spread out, moaning like a porn star. I know what you sound like," he whispers, catching you off guard when he suddenly lifts you to set you on the counter. "I've heard the way you scream for Mike."

There's a pang in your chest at the mention of him, but it's gone just as quickly.

"And, you'd like it, wouldn't you? Being watched." Erwin trails his lips from your temple to your ear, making you shiver when he speaks into it, "You can pretend all you want, but I know you liked it when I walked in on you and him. You liked being on display."

He isn't wrong. You replay that instance in your head a little more than you probably should.

Hearing the fact stated now, though, right to your face has your body heating, arousal flooding you and making warmth pool between your legs.

"You can admit it, it's okay. I've known for a while now."

One of his hands moves to the inside of your thigh then further up, fingers dancing over your covered pussy. It's your turn to gasp. You clutch his shoulders and spread your legs despite knowing there's no way you'll be satisfied with this, not when thick denim is separating you from his touch.

"Don't get too cocky, Smith." You try to sound confident, but it's hard to when your breath keeps hitching.

"Why?" He grazes his teeth over the sensitive space below your ear, and it makes you twitch in his grasp. "I have every reason to be."

He goes on to list every other place he's thought about fucking you—apparently just about every setting you've ever been in with him. Each and every Pike party, the locker room before or after a lacrosse game, his Mustang, Mike's Wrangler.

"That's fucked up," you somehow manage.

Erwin shrugs his shoulders, mumbles, "Can't help it," then slots his lips against yours for the first time (or, the first consensual time).

You're reminded of Zeke, the way all you did was compare him, only now with Erwin, you have two men who flash through your mind. He's softer than Zeke but just as bold as he cradles your head and slips his tongue into your mouth—tastes sweeter than Mike (probably from the strawberries), but it's not necessarily a good thing. It isn't bad either. It's just Erwin… Different.

His hair doesn't brush your cheeks like Mike's does. He doesn't have glasses to dig into your skin. Clean shaven, no coarse hairs to tickle against you, and he's smack in the middle in terms of height. You have to crane your neck more than you did with Zeke but less than you had to with Mike.

It's all a little jarring, but you feel this was always sort of an inevitability, at least once you started spending time with Erwin one on one. You never would have let this happen if you had stayed with Mike—if you had actually taken the next step with him—but that's why you started hanging out with Erwin in the first place.

You never noticed the way your back and forth was flirty, mostly just you giving him shit about one thing or another, but apparently others read further into it. And, you've had as good a time as you can. The heartache has put a damper on things, kept Erwin mostly off your radar save for the days you woke up frustrated and desperate, but that's what your vibrator is for.

Apparently, while you were busy making sure things stayed friendly between the two of you, Erwin's mind was getting away from him. Every god damn time you hung out, he told you, whether it was at the house or out to lunch, walking with you to classes or out to your car.

He did make it a habit of touching you, you can admit, but none of it was inappropriate—a nudge to knock you off balance that would result in you hitting him, a prod in the ribs that would result in you squeaking and hitting him. Sticking a foot out to trip you that would result in you…

Dude obviously likes to be slapped around.

There's also the hugs. Up in his room when you feel extra gloomy, he'd wrap his arms around you and sway back and forth. Sometimes he'd sit and pull you with him, turn on a movie and keep a tight hold around your shoulders. There were afternoons you'd walk into his room while he was studying and just pass out in his bed, up too late the night before from worrying and obsessing, in need of a nap before your evening lecture. He'd set an alarm for you, stay up for a while longer before allowing himself to take a break and crawl under the blankets beside to—

Oh, god, you've been dating Erwin Smith.

You have to break away from him to laugh, lightly hitting your head against his chest so that he chuckles and asks, "What?"

"I—" You look back up at him, shaking your head to yourself. "I can't believe I didn't fucking see it."

"See what?"

"You and me—"

"You and I," he corrects, and you shove him.

"You and I have just been doing what Mike and I were doing."

"Uh, excuse me," he holds a finger up. "We have not been having endless sex, thank you."

"That's not—" You roll your eyes. "I'm saying we've been dating without actually dating. Like, I get why everyone thinks we're a thing."

"Oh," Erwin nods, sucking his teeth for a second then adding, "Yeah, I was wondering when you would figure that out."

"Fucker. Did you do it on purpose? Like, just to prove you could?"

He frowns, looking genuinely offended. "Christ, what kind of person do you think I am?"

"Not twenty minutes ago you confessed to being an asshole."

His face softens when he snickers. "Okay, true. But, no. I'm not trying to manipulate Mike or you for that matter. You've been upset, and you've put up with a lot of shit over the last few months, and I just figured you could use a friend."

Staring up at him, you notice the way his face is turning a little red, and you hold your tongue between your teeth as you smile knowingly.

"You caaare about meee."

He scoffs and looks away

"Heartbreaker Smith cares about a girl," you tease. "How embarrassing."

"Laugh it up. You would've been miserable without me."

"I mean, yeah, but still. What's it like having a platonic girlfriend?"

He tilts his head to the side then reaches forward to squeeze your thighs. "Is it really platonic if we're about to have sex?"

"Absolutely. Hundred percent."

"You're not even a little worried that it'll become a regular thing and you'll fall in love?" The arrogance is both astounding and amusing.

Cocking your head, you take a deep breath, expression one of false sympathy as you pat his stomach. "I'm positive. Unfortunately, my heart belongs to another."

Erwin clicks his tongue before moving forward and sliding his hands between the counter and your ass. "I'm a little hurt, honestly. I'm used to fucking a girl and having to hide out for a while afterward—always so clingy."

You squint, can't tell if he's being serious or overdramatizing to annoy you.

"You know what? Nevermind. I don't even want your little playboy ass anymore—"

Naturally, he turns the charm back on right then, getting too close to your face, blue eyes flicking to your lips before he breathes, "Don't lie," and presses a tiny peck to them. "The tough girl act is only believable for so long."

"Wow, fuck you."

"That's the idea," he smirks.

"Har fucking har. You're so funny."

Erwin pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and grinds his hips against yours then prompts, "Your room or mine?"

"Mine," you reply. "I'd rather you have to do the walk of shame later."

"Probably a good idea since you won't be able to once I'm finished with you."

You actually laugh out loud. It would have worked on you a few minutes ago, but all the joking has you a little giggly at this point.

Fuck, he is going to make a great distraction.

"Okay, calm down. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"Sounds like a challenge to me."

"Men," you sigh. "So predictable."

After minutes more of unnecessary banter, Erwin finally coaxes you out of the bathroom you've both spent far too much time in. Your face has cleared up, the urge to cry subsiding, though your heart still drops in your chest when you pass behind Mike and Rhi on the couch, green eyes tracking you as you walk up the stairs in front of Erwin.

This is not the right way to solve a problem, but it'll probably be fun for a while. It's already fun as Erwin kicks the door closed and walks you back to the bed. He isn't even touching you, just watching you with a hazy blue gaze. He isn't smiling, looks like a predator, and honestly, it's ridiculously attractive.

"Stop making that face."

"What face?"

"That—that—"

You run into the bed, wave your arms to keep your balance, but Erwin presses his fingertips to your chest and just barely pushes to knock you back.

"What face, hm?"

The hair on your arms and neck is standing on end, anticipation bubbling in your gut as you try to crawl higher on the mattress only for Erwin to grab you by the ankle and tug you back down.

Damn. He's good at this.

"Stay," he commands, straightening up to take his shirt off.

He's tan and toned, light blonde hair sprinkled over his chest and above the waistband of his pants.

You're reminded of the very first Pike party you went to, the first time you slept with Mike (and can't remember), walking downstairs the following morning to find Erwin in the kitchen wearing sweats and drinking his coffee and smirking at you like he could tell the future.

Maddening. He's maddening.

You rid yourself of your own top then shimmy out of your jeans. Erwin eyes you hungrily, causing your whole body to tingle. It simultaneously makes you want to cover yourself and spread yourself open for him.

"I have been waiting way too fucking long for this," Erwin mumbles, raking fingernails down your torso so that you take in a shuddering breath.

"It's been, like, a y-year and a half." Your back arches on its own volition, hips bucking as Erwin scratches over the bones before catching your thong and pulling it down. He kneels at the end of the bed, a familiar scene save for the head of shiny, golden hair.

"A year and a half of having to look but not touch."

"Poor little—" you gasp when he parts your folds with his thumbs, staring at your pussy then blowing a stream of air over it.

"Do you know how many times I've jacked off to the thought of you? How many times I've slept with other girls while imagining it was you?"

You want to make another smartass comment, tease him about being a pervert or in his feelings or something, but you can't find your voice as he licks a long, slow stripe up your slit. You stare at the ceiling, not even blinking as too many signals fire in your brain all at once.

Erwin is good with his mouth. Like, stupid good. He has a teasing rhythm, flicks your clit with the tip of his tongue until your muscles are coiled then moves to trace the ring of your entrance, taking his time as you turn from human to puddle.

He’s better at this than Zeke who would purposely graze his teeth over your sensitive little bud a little too hard on purpose, would suck on it until it hurt. He liked when you whimpered for him, liked leaving raised welts on your ribs and back from where he’d scratched. The intermixed pain and pleasure never failed to make you come, but the climb up to that precipice was usually precarious for lack of a better term.

Then, there’s Mike (because of course there is). His mood usually determined how he would take you, hard and fast before a game or slow and lazy as you both relaxed in his room. One thing always stayed the same no matter his disposition, and it’s that he fucking worshiped your pussy—even said it on multiple occasions. He would eat you out like a starving man, lapping at your juices like it would quench his thirst. Some days he would overstimulate you to the point of tears, neverending licks lavished over your clit as he pumped thick fingers in and out of your cunt. Other days he would go down on you like it was a fucking hobby—turn on a movie, spread you out on the foot of his bed, and eat you out while only halfway paying attention to the TV. He could pull multiple orgasms from you that way, letting you come around a finger or two before returning to your pulsing clit. Fuck, you used to make such a mess. He’d spend minutes trying to lick you clean, but you always ended up in the shower afterward.

You shouldn’t be thinking of that right now, though. You should be thinking about Erwin’s clever tongue and the fingertips just barely brushing over sensitive skin. You want them inside of you, want something to clamp down on, but no matter how much you pull his hair or utter a breathy, “Please,” he keeps the same pace, only moving on when he feels like it.

He’s doing it on purpose, trying to break you before even getting to the point of fucking you, and if you’re being honest, it just might work. He’s gonna make you lose your god damn mind tonight. Exactly like you want to.

“Fuck, how much p-practice have you had with th-this?”

Erwin laughs, stilling your wriggling by curling his arms around your thighs. “Too much, probably.”

You whine when he continues, but when he starts softly sucking on your clit, you’re surprised at how close you suddenly feel, your legs naturally trying to spread further but remaining immobilized in Erwin’s grip. The threat of not being able to move only intensifies the building sensation in your gut, and soon you’re gasping his name, eyes rolling as you try in vain to buck further into his face.

You feel more than hear Erwin groan, a deep vibration that pours over your clit and makes you twitch. He gives you a few more long licks, then pulls back and stands, exposing the way his mouth and chin are covered in a glossy sheen.

“Feel better yet?” He smirks.

You wave a lazy hand, don’t want to fluff his ego too much, so you allow him to witness your borderline stoned state while still jeering, “I’ll feel better when I have your cock inside me.”

Erwin laughs to himself, mutters, “Eager,” then takes his pants off.

Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you give his cock a cursory glance and stop. “Hold on,” then slide off the bed and to your knees.

If you’re gonna fuck Erwin Smith, you’re at least gonna appreciate it.

He inhales sharply as you place your hands on his thighs, eyes traveling over his length. It’s pretty, above average in size, smooth, with a flared tip that’s currently flushing a dark pink.

“I really hate to admit this, but you could be, like, a dick model.”

He chokes on some kind of snort, and you swear his entire chest turns red. “I—thank you?”

“You’re welcome,” you tell him, promptly taking hold of his cock and guiding it into your mouth.

“Oh, fuck, fuck—”

His skin is soft against your tongue, warm as you take him deeper. His girth stretches your jaw, but you’re still pretty used to the feeling, had to get used to it with Mike because he’s a little bigger than—

That’s not important.

Erwin breathes through his teeth as he places a hand on the top of your head, and when you look up at him through your eyelashes, he lets out a disbelieving little laugh. That confident fucking tease is nowhere to be found as you swipe your tongue over the tiny hole leaking pre then surge forward, almost pressing your nose to his pelvis as you run the muscle back and forth under the base of his cock.

“Shit, let me—let me lean against the bed,” he says, pulling you off him and chuckling, “Gonna make my fucking knees buckle.”

You turn where you’re kneeling, waiting for him to get better stabilized before resuming your efforts to ruin this annoying, charming frat boy who is always put together. You suck and slurp and trigger your gag reflex a couple times. Erwin’s fingers scratch against your scalp like he’s looking for purchase. He’s careful not to be too brutal as he pushes you down on his cock, raising his hips to meet your rhythm. His head is thrown back, thighs tensing under your hands as his chest rises and falls with short breaths.

You have to work up to it, but once you feel loose enough, you press forward and let Erwin slip further into your throat. His voice sounds like honey when he groans a low, “Hoooly fuck,” letting his head hang down as he attempts to stare at you with unfocused eyes.

“Okay, okay, okay,” he huffs. “Keep going and we won’t get to the main event.”

You pull off of him with a lewd pop then raise to your feet. Your knees are a little sore, but it’s nothing some exercise won’t work out.

“Want me to wear a condom?”

“I don’t care. I’m clean and on birth control,” you tell him. “What about you?”

“Well, I’m clean, but I haven’t gotten my birth control prescription refilled in a wh—”

You flick his chest, and Erwin laughs as he bats you away.

“Alright. Up on the bed with you then,” he motions to the mattress. “Lay on the edge.”

You do as you're told, spreading your legs for Erwin to stand between, and you bite your lip when you feel him rub the head of his cock between your folds. You’re still wet with slick—probably dripped onto the carpet when you were giving him head—which makes the glide easier as he teases you.

“Ready?” He asks, wriggling thick eyebrows until you smile. He doesn’t wait for an actual answer before he starts pushing in, pressing your legs to your chest as he slowly seats himself in your cunt.

You’re making that face—eyebrows moving toward your hairline as if you’re worried, jaw dropping open as air is pushed from your lungs. Erwin looks focused, licking his lips as he gazes down at the way your pussy stretches around him.

He thrusts in and out at a tortuous pace, apparently waiting for you to start trembling around him before he deems you ready to take more. Every one of his movements is measured, slowly pulling out only to push in all at once. The ridge of his cock drags over your g-spot, pressing firmly against it and making you claw at his shoulders.

He feels good, satisfying, but he’s not quite as good as Mike who used to hit all your spots without even thinking about it—somehow making you beg like a whore and sing like a little girl in Sunday school all at the same time.

Still, you don’t have to lie when Erwin quickens his pace and pants, “Feel good?”

“Fuck—yes, yes, Jesus Christ—”

He’s pulling all manner of crude sounds from your pussy, wet and greedy as it sucks him back in with every rut of his hips. The angle is perfect—his height paired with the bed on stilts has him hitting your spot every time, and you feel the need to warn him, “If you keep—keep fucking me like this—god—m’gonna squirt.”

“Fuck yes,” he praises, wetting a thumb in his mouth before bringing it down to massage your clit. He only speeds up as your voice rises, body confused like your muscles don’t know if they should be flexed or relaxed.

You feel that tell-tale burning, that urge that only gets stronger the more Erwin abuses your g-spot and presses against your clit.

“Shit, shit, shit—”

Erwin groans when fluid starts to trickle from you, pushes more and more out of you while quickly swiping two fingers over your clit. The sense of relief is mind-numbing. You can’t even be upset that your sheets are gonna be damp whenever you decide to sleep.

He doesn’t slow down, doesn’t lose his rhythm, just sticks his two wet fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean.

You see it now—the skill, the appeal, why the girls always come back to him. It makes sense. He’s devastatingly handsome, especially like this, all fucked out and flushed, hair out of place, lips red and swollen from biting them.

Yeah, Erwin is fucking hot.

But, that doesn’t mean he’s your type.

Pulling out, he flips you onto your stomach, and you have to stand on your tip-toes as you lean over the bed. The burn in your calves disappears almost entirely when he slides into you from behind, pelvis pressing against your ass as he curls over you, cupping your tits and tweaking your hardened nipples as he gifts you with a series of shallow thrusts. It makes you whimper and teeter forward, unable to balance and squirm at the same time. Face suddenly buried in the mattress, your cries are muffled by the blankets. Erwin’s hands travel back to your hips, rocking you back and forth on his slick cock. He’s getting a little rougher, pressing into you as deeply as he can, and the fact that you’ll be sore from this tomorrow gives you a strange sense of satisfaction.

Only way to get over someone is to get on top of someone else, right? Or, underneath in your case. Being a little more in control wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, so…

“Erwin, Erwin, fuck—Lemme ride you.”

There is no hesitation. Erwin slips out of you and throws himself onto the bed, grinning crookedly as he watches you climb over him on unsteady limbs. His patience must have worn out some time ago, because he holds his cock with one hand, using the other to line you up with it, then guides you down his length.

You have to sit still for a second, or you would like to, but Erwin is still holding your hips, and he rocks you back and forth in his lap like he knows. He probably does. He’s probably fucked enough girls to notice exactly when their eyes pop open, when they shudder and break out in goosebumps because that pressure is hitting exactly where it needs to, and yeah, he knows.

Finding it in yourself to move again, you lean over Erwin, planting your hands on the pillows by his head, then start bouncing on his cock. He hisses in a dark, appreciative way, eyes and hands immediately drawn to your chest. He sits up enough to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and pinching then doing the same to the other.

He’s so good—feels so good, knows just where to touch, the exact place to bite on your neck that makes you melt, but how—how does he know that? It’s like he has a sixth sense or—

Or, he just paid attention to the bruises that Mike used to leave on the sides of your throat. That checks out.

Fuck, he used to mark you like he wanted everyone to see, especially that last night. It was almost animalistic, like he had been—marking his territory, Zeke’s voice plays in your head. It makes you frown, and you rid yourself of the thought only to replace it with the memory of Mike’s mouth on your skin, his calloused fingertips trailing down your torso, huge hands wrapping around your legs to pull you against him—

You whine, glad it sounds like a sound of desperation rather than frustration. You just want to stop thinking about him. Just an hour—if you could go a single fucking hour—

“Hey, look at me,” Erwin commands in a soft voice.

You open your eyes, still hovering over him, and expect him to say something, but instead he just reaches up to the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss.

He’s helping move you on top of him, forcing you to take his cock over and over, and like this, so close and breathing him in, you don’t even have the room to think about Mike.

Both of your bodies are damp with sweat, and Erwin’s hair is a mess, pushed from his flushed face. He bites down on your bottom lip and tugs, only letting go to ask, “Where do you want me?”

“I don’t care,” you groan, legs and arms and pussy growing sore. You’re not surprised; you’ve been going at it for a while now.

Erwin licks your lower lip as if to soothe it after biting it, tells you, “Oh, don’t give me that option. You know where I’ll pick.”

Smiling, you straighten up then move to fit your feet underneath you so you can bounce more freely. “You can come inside, dude. It feels good to me, too.”

“I really don’t know how to respond to being called ‘dude’ when I’m balls deep in a girl.”

You shrug, “Sorry not sorry,” then raise and drop yourself, feeling in charge for the first time tonight.

“Fuck—shit—”

That feeling is short lived as Erwin goes right back to using you the way he wants. You think for about half a second that he’s finally, really losing himself, but the accuracy of his finger on your clit proves that is not the case. He’s clearly having a good time, but he isn’t at that feral stage that Mike falls into sometimes.

Before you can dwell on it for too long, you hit your peak, moaning Erwin’s name, hips moving uncontrollably as you ride out your orgasm.

He’s speaking, mumbling praise or pleas or curses, you aren’t so sure, but after about another minute of fucking into you relentlessly, Erwin comes, shooting line after line inside of you until he’s spent and twitching.

With your two previous partners, this is usually when you’d fall forward and cuddle, catch your breath and enjoy the feeling of being all plugged up.

But, it’s Erwin, huffing and blinking up at the ceiling then finally stating, “That was a dumb idea.”

It makes you laugh for some reason, probably because you agree.

The sex was great. There is a reason girls talk about him on campus, about his sexual prowess or whatever, and if you weren’t too busy suffocating in your little pit of heartbreak, thinking about your best friend nonstop, you wouldn’t mind fucking Erwin again. And, again and again.

That’s not gonna happen, though. The heat of the moment is fading, every mental faculty returning to you, and despite the fact that you’re still seated on his cock, as you look down at him, you feel absolutely no spark.

He’s ridiculously attractive, pretty fucking brilliant but with a dumb sense of humor, and you love him. You really do. He’s done a lot for you over the last semester, made it at least somewhat bearable, but… This shouldn’t have happened.

Hopefully, it quelled his curiosity, though.

“I told you it would just make you feel shitty,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t look sad. Sympathetic more than anything, resigned that he’s probably going to have to pick up the pieces of another mess.

“Yeah,” you drawl. “You were right.” Your joints pop as you stand, towering over Erwin for once and leaking his fucking cum as you hop off the bed.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he jokes absentmindedly, wiping a few drops of white off his stomach then reaching for the tissues on the nightstand.

You don’t feel awkward or out of place, but you have no idea what else to say. The only thing that comes to mind is, “I’m gonna take a shower,” as you walk toward the bathroom.

Erwin moves on the bed, stretching a little before grabbing his pants and leaving you to your devices, but you pause before stepping onto the tile, turn back and pace over to him.

“Hey,” you start, and Erwin glances up from the button of his khakis. “Thanks.”

He rolls his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, and once he’s all zipped and buttoned up, he pulls you into a hug.

“I would say any time, but we probably shouldn’t do this again.”

“Yeah, probably not.”

You breathe into the space under his collarbone, humming as he gently scratches you back, then break away. “Alright, actually gonna shower now.”

Erwin nods, “You do that,” then slaps your ass as soon as you turn around.

You look at him over your shoulder with raised eyebrows, but he just winks and tells you, “I had to. Just once,” which is fair.

You run a hot shower, scrub the shit out of your skin, lather your hair with some fancy shampoo then rinse it off. Once you go through your full routine, you’re happy to change into pajamas and slip into the comfortable bed. You don’t even mind that the comforter is a little damp in various places.

* You don’t stir when the door opens and closes, but you do when the mattress dips. Shifting slightly, you assume it’s just Erwin, falling back into your usual routine by slipping under the covers with you.

As soon as he lays behind you, though, you know it isn’t Erwin. You recognize that weight, that warmth, that smell, and you are very awake very quickly.

“M-Mike?”

All he offers is a little, “Mm,” to confirm.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, confused and clueless as to what you’re supposed to do.

“Are you drunk again?”

“No. Little buzzed.”

Why is he here, then? You want to ask—What is he doing? Why isn’t he with Rhi?

You start to turn to face him but you're stopped when Mike sets a hand on your back. It's oddly firm, keeping you in place as he grunts, "No, don't."

"What?"

"Don't turn around." His voice is hushed and choppy, like he's gritting out every syllable.

"Mike?"

"I have shit I wanna say to you, and I won't be able to if you're lookin' at me."

You have no idea how to respond to that, don't know if this is going to be a positive one-sided conversation where Mike confesses deep feelings while actually sober, or if he'll just unload all the baggage you've given him. Either way, you wish you could see his face. Something about having him laying behind you, close enough to feel his body heat, has you feeling very uneasy.

But, you nod, "Okay," trying to put on a brave face that he refuses to look at.

For a while, he just breathes. You assume it’s because he’s gathering his thoughts or maybe working up the courage to say something, but the suspense is making you shiver under your blankets. You have that terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach, the mix of anticipation and regret you get on the way up to the first drop of a rollercoaster.

“Why have you been lying to me?”

And, there’s that drop.

You swallow. “I haven’t been.”

“Bullshit.”

“Mike, I haven’t been!” You try to turn again, but his large hand is still right in the middle of your back.

“Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” His fingers close around the material of your shirt. You feel it tighten at your chest, making it hard to breathe—harder to breathe. “How are you gonna tell me that right after sleeping with him?”

You open your mouth to argue, realize you can’t make a case for yourself, and when you snap your jaw shut again, the sound of your teeth clacking seems to echo in your head.

Yesterday, you would have been able to talk to him about this and be honest when telling him you weren’t fucking his best friend. Now, though…

God, that had been such a bad decision. Why hadn’t you just listened to Erwin? Why can’t you fucking listen to anyone?

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mike mutters. His grip loosens, but you can still feel a light tug at your shirt, the movement of fingers, and you think he might be rubbing over the material he’s still holding. “Pretty sure all of us could hear you guys goin’ at it, so… Thanks for that.”

You take a deep breath in, squeezing your eyes shut because it sinks in that this is not going to be nice conversation. This isn’t going to result in the two of you apologizing and making love confessions to each other.

“I… I’m sorry.”

Now, you’re grateful for not being able to see his face. You wouldn’t be able to stand looking at him right now, not when you know his expression will be grim—probably angry.

“I can’t really do anything with sorry,” Mike sighs. His hand drops from your back, but you make no move to turn over.

Your heart is like a hummingbird’s, beating frantically in your chest as that ache rises inside of you again, making your throat constrict and your eyes burn.

“Why’d you invite Rhi tonight?” You ask, hoping your sniffle isn’t too noticeable.

“Why does it matter?”

You suppose it doesn’t, but you still want to know, “Is it to get back at me, or is it because you’re actually into her?”

Mike scoffs. “Not that it’s any of your business, but do you think I’d be in your room at three in the fucking morning if I was into her?”

It’s probably the closest he’ll get to admitting it, but it’s all you need to hear. He’s been going out of his way to hurt you. At least any pain you’ve caused him wasn’t intentional. Until tonight, that is, and even then, you didn’t fuck Erwin to hurt him; you did it to help yourself.

Pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, you hold back tears and mumble a thick, “Just wanted to know.”

“Want to make sure I’m still interested? That I’ll keep waiting for you to fucking realize—”

“I have—” You turn over roughly, pinning Mike’s hand under your ribs as you glare at him, but he manages to put more distance between the two of you when he yanks his arm back and sits up.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he tells you, and you think you hear his voice waver for a second.

The orange light pouring in from the bathroom is the only way you can tell his eyes are wide—worried—and it chills all the blood in your body.

“Wh-what d’you mean?”

“I mean, I can’t fucking do this anymore,” he repeats a little louder, drawing it out like it’ll help you understand. “I cannot deal with you anymore. I can’t keep feeling this way, okay?”

“Mike…”

“No,” he stops you, acts like he has something else lined up but bites his tongue and sighs. He sits cross-legged on the bed now, hangs his head as he speaks calmly, “This semester has fucking sucked. I am angry all the time. I can’t focus in class, and I can’t play lacrosse without getting in trouble, and I can’t fuck anyone else without feeling bad—I can’t fucking do anything without thinking of you, and I’m—” he looks at the wall and shakes his head. “I’m exhausted.”

“I am too,” you tell him, voice cracking as that lump in your throat grows and bubbles, pushing hot tears from your eyes that you quickly wipe away. “Mike, I am too, so can we just—”

“No,” he cuts you off again. “Whatever it is you’re about to say—move on, pretend it didn’t happen, pick up where we left off, whatever… the answer is no.”

He seems like he already has his mind made up, came into the room with a plan, and he isn’t gonna let you talk him out of it.

So, you stay as silent as you can, sniffing and swallowing and letting the comforter catch every teardrop.

“I have been… Right in front of you this whole time. I made myself completely available for a year—was at your beck and fucking call. I was—I mean—I was good to you, right?” He sounds incredulous, like he can barely believe he’s asking.

“Yeah,” you manage. “Yeah, you were.”

“Then, why…? Zeke? And, now Erwin?”

“Do you want me to try to explain, or do you just wanna rant for a while?”

Mike glances at you, looks surprised that you’d give him the option.

“Honestly, I don’t really wanna hear it. You’ve more than proved your point.”

Indignation swirls in your stomach alongside your nausea, and you press, “My point being?”

“That I’m not good enough.”

Oh, god. No, no, no. You could understand him being angry. You’re okay with him being angry, it’s fine. But, this—this feeling of inferiority? That is so much worse. It makes you sick. This is the last thing you’d ever want Mike to feel. It’s the last thing he should feel because it’s false. He has no reason—he’s too good and too kind and too warm. He’s like… He’s fucking sunshine. He can light up a room, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Mike, n-no,” your voice breaks, making you sound like a wounded animal. “You are so, so good. You are more than enough, I promise.”

He snorts in a self-deprecating manner. “Then, why—”

“Because I’m not good enough. I fucked this up. This is my fault, and I can own that as long as you know that there is absolutely no—nothing wrong with you,” the last part comes out as a squeak as you try not to hyperventilate and cry the way your body is urging you to. Not yet.

Mike nods a few times. You can see his mouth moving from the side like he’s biting his lip or sucking his teeth until he agrees, “Yeah,” then adds a quiet, “Whatever you say, babe,” that makes you want to throw up.

Mike scoots to the edge of the bed and stands. You assume he’s about to leave, let you be alone with your thoughts, so when he rounds the corner to get to your side, you sit up a little straighter.

Half of his face is illuminated, casting shadows under his eyes, highlighting the bruise on his neck that Rhi probably left, but your gaze is trained on his as he leans down to you. A finger hooks under your chin, and Mike tilts your face at an angle, kissing you so softly that it’s painful.

His lips are warm and familiar, everything you’ve been craving as they cover yours. There’s no tongue, no force, just light pressure as he inhales through his nose.

You know what this is, what he’s doing, but you can’t prepare yourself because there’s still that tiny string of hope you’re grappling for. He just needs a break. You just need to give him space. That’s all—

“I love you,” Mike murmurs. His voice is low and honest and slices you open. “I love you so fucking much it hurts, and I just—” He brushes a thumb over your lower lip as he pulls away, and it takes everything in you not to grab his hand and beg him to stay. “It’s like I hate you too.”

You pull away to wipe your face with the blanket. There’s so much you want to say but have no idea how to articulate it, so all you can do is stare at Mike with wide, watery eyes. He… hates you. He hates you.

Straightening, Mike’s expression is suddenly nonchalant, like he just flipped a switch in his brain. “I’m not exactly the social butterfly I used to be, but I wanna have fun my last semester of undergrad—make up for the time I lost fucking brooding over you, so—”

“I’ll stop going to the Pike house,” you tell him quietly. It’s easier to make the decision yourself rather than have to hear it from his mouth: Don’t come around anymore. I don’t want to see you.

“Cool. And, if you, like, see me on campus or anything—”

You cough, maybe gag, you can’t really tell at this point because wow, this just keeps getting worse.

“I won’t bother you.”

“Cool.” He bends to press another much more patronizing kiss to the crown of your head, then starts walking toward the door. “I’m just gonna try to move on, you know? Start fresh. And, you should do the same. Shouldn’t be too hard for you.”

You don’t watch him leave, just listen for the door to click shut behind him before you crawl out of bed, turn the lights on, and start packing your things.

You and Hitch drove together, but you have no doubt that she'll be able to get a ride with Nile, and with that thought, you’re out of the ranch house and on the road just as the first rays of the morning sun start shining over the horizon.

It’s surprisingly easy for Mike to slip back into his old, obnoxious persona, and the remainder of the school year is spent partying, fucking, and cramming for tests he should have studied for weeks in advance.

But, life is short, and he’s done beating himself up over stupid shit.

Most of his PKA brothers are happy to have him “back”, and the pledges get the chance to see this of him, but there are times when Mike catches Erwin or Nile shaking their heads at him. He doesn’t mind much. They can both go fuck themselves for all he cares.

True to your word, you don’t show your face around the house. There were a few weeks after the holiday get-together where Erwin would disappear for a few hours at a time and come back either tired or angry, sometimes a combination of the two.

He attempted to bring you up in a conversation a total of one time, right in the middle of a party where Mike had been eyeing up a sorority girl. He brushed his friend off, easily telling Erwin, “Don’t fuckin’ talk to me about her,” through the crooked grin he was flashing at the little blond across the room.

Erwin didn’t bother after that, obviously deeming Mike a lost cause.

Mike knows better, though. He isn’t lost anymore. In fact, he’s found himself all over again.

Every once in a while, he’ll catch a glimpse of you on campus, but whenever that happens, he just turns around and takes a different route to wherever he’s going. He doesn’t want to give you any reason to think you can talk to him—doesn’t want to give you the chance.

He’s spent too much of his time hung up on you, too much time pining and hurting, and that hasn’t disappeared entirely. Mike can still clearly remember the way you looked at him the last night the two of you spoke, the way your tears twinkled in the dim light. He remembers how strangled you sounded while speaking, remembers the way your shoulders shook as you fought your emotions, remembers the way your lips trembled against his.

It wasn’t very satisfying. Mike left the ranch house the following morning sporting a few bruises on the outside thanks to Rhi as well as a few bruises on the inside thanks to you.

That entire night had been a clusterfuck—between Maddie and Marie storming off to cry then the little stunt he pulled by inviting Rhi, it had been much too dramatic for a gathering of that size. Mike experienced a wide variety of emotions that night, but the one that stands out the most is the searing rage that threatened to burn him from the inside, the red the clouded his vision as soon as he heard you moan Erwin’s name through the wall.

Mike had already been toying with the idea of severing all ties with you, but that’s what pushed him over the edge, watching you put on your little show when Rhi walked in only to turn around and have a grand fucking time with his best friend.

It needed to happen. Mike needed to free himself of you. It feels good. Mostly. There are still some days he comes close to giving in, just picking up his phone and calling you, but he resists, and he’s better for it.

He gets through his classes, does well on his finals after actually putting in the time to prepare for them, and by the time Mike graduates, he’s already been accepted to the graduate program of his choice and has an internship lined up. The tension between him and Erwin has faded for the most part, which is great since he’s going to grad school in the same area up north. Things look… promising—something he didn’t think possible without you by his side, something he didn’t want to be possible without you by his side.

But, now, here he is, unpacking his new apartment with the help of Scout who insists on sniffing absolutely everything. He’s halfway across the country from his parents, away from all he’s ever known, and Mike couldn’t be more thrilled about it.

He can go full days without sparing you a thought now, and he hopes—he prays—that one day he’ll think of you for the last time in his life.

[ next ]

#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic

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wakaoujisenhime · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I really glad that I found your blog which still taking requests about knb stuff🖤 May I request fwb or friend to lover with Takao in nsfw please? Thanks a lot!

A/N: Hi there, I’m also thrilled to have you here! Now, I wasn’t quite sure whether you wanted headcanons or a scenario so I hope you don’t mind that I did a mix out of the two ...make sure to tell me if you wanted/expected something else 👀

For those who are interested in a fluffier take of the more or less same trope, I’ll leave a link to that scenario below...ANYWAY I hope you’ll enjoy this spicy scenario (also keep in mind that it’s my first time writing smut for KnB! 👉👈)

Tags: Takao x reader ✅ friends with benefits ✅ friends to lovers ✅ fluff ✅ slight angst ✅ smut ✅

☞ 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕪 𝕧𝕖𝕣.

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

having someone as lively as Takao in your circle of friends guaranteed you a lot of fun and laughs throughout your days

the two of you understood each other since day 1 and had quickly become inseparable

his former basketball club teammates had always teased the two of you by saying how much you both looked like an old married couple, but you rarely to never payed any attention to it

the school years passed by in a flash and before you knew it, a new chapter of your life was awaiting you

usually, people tend to lose contact with their former schools’ friends, but that was never a worry in your friendship with the young man because neither you nor he intended to leave the other’s side, even if it meant that you’d have to live together

you had considered it, but never truly talked about it so now you both were living separated but close enough for daily visits and hangouts

whenever Takao and you took a walk or went shopping together small gestures such as holding hands, leaning your head on his shoulders, or him using your lap as his pillow after taking a seat somewhere were nothing out of the usual

no matter how small these may have been, there would always be some kind of warm and fuzzy feeling that spread inside of you whenever you were so close to each other

as time passed you began to desire more and couldn’t help but wonder just what would happen if you went past that threshold of friendship

at first, you thought that these thoughts were simply temporary and one-sided but as time flew by you began to wonder whether Takao shared these hidden desires as well

he began to increasingly close the distance between you two by doing innocent-seeming things such as inviting you to a round or two of street basketball while he had nothing on but some shorts or when he slept over at your house, he’d wander around half-naked with nothing but a towel which covered his lower body after he’d taken a shower

on one evening when he’d invited you over to his home, the two of you were snuggled as close as can be (since personal space never existed in your relationship) while watching a movie the two of you liked

you were slowly growing tired and whenever Takao caught that, he’d always try to make you fall asleep quicker by gently caressing your head, and now wasn’t any different

or so you thought...

your eyelids were slowly becoming heavier and just as you were about to completely doze off, you felt how his slender fingers began playing with your ear, tickling it in the process

as a response to this tingling feeling you began writhing your body, trying to escape his grasp as the smallest giggles escaped you

“T-Takao, haha...s-stop it!”

“Hmm? What’s wrong, am I perhaps bothering you?”

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

Even though you managed to win some distance between you two, his fingers never paused and tickled you until tears rolled down your cheeks from so much laughter.

This continued for a couple of minutes until you fell right into his lap and surrendered. Takao laughed triumphantly as he gently pets your head a few times and leaned himself back.

“Sorry sorry, but I couldn’t help myself, you’re always so cute when you laugh like that.”

His apology didn’t mean much if you considered that mischievous grin that was plastered on his face. You wanted to pay him back for that so you simply crossed your arms and pouted, knowing fully well that this would trigger the young man’s conscience and make him feel at least a little bad.

Not even a minute later and his smile was replaced by a surprised and slightly worried expression. He whispered your name and poked your cheek ever so gently as he continuously asked whether you were mad at him. You used that short moment of confusion and swiftly took a hold of his cheeks, pulling his face down to you and kissing his lips. Even though that small peck didn’t even last five entire seconds, your friend looked so taken aback that he even raised his arm towards his mouth and ran his fingertips along his chapped lips.

“D-Did you just...? You...y-you really did, didn’t you?”

“What’s wrong Takao? Don’t tell me that good ol’ me stole your first kiss!” you teased and waited rather unusually long for the typical cheeky answer you were used to, but nothing came from him for quite a while so you simply looked up at him and whispered out his name. You saw his lips move and he said something that sounded very much like do it again, but since you were quite uncertain and wanted to make sure, but before even a sound escaped from your mouth, Takao’s hand took a hold of the back of your head, lifted it up towards his own face and now kissed you.

This time though you decided to savor the moment and even wrapped your arms around his neck. The young man seemingly had the same idea as he pushed your body further towards his own, with the help of his other hand that he’d placed on your back. At that moment neither of you cared for the fact that you were nothing more than friends and that this was considered unnatural, all desires that the two of you had kept hidden within yourselves for all this time erupted and came to light.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

the following day the two of you tried to act as if that kiss had never happened, but unfortunately, your memories of it were enough to push you past the threshold of friendship and gradually change your relationship

from then on both of you individually started getting closer to the other and at some point, it even bordered on possessiveness, but it couldn’t be helped since it was you both that unleashed your desires for the other

everything seemed normal at first and you started off with mere kisses on the lips whenever a situation presented itself; situations such as when Takao surprised you with a meal or when you helped him out with his chores/assignments

then slowly but surely you began to close the physical distance as well

when going out together the occasional gesture of him wrapping his arm around your hip to shield you from the masses of people that went on a shopping spree became a habit and even lasted for your entire walk; you on the other hand usually either hocked your arm around his or simply held onto his hand, but now you even intertwined your fingers with his own, caressed the back of his palm, and of course didn’t let go until you had to

you putting his clothes on, Takao using some of your skincare products, or him sleeping over at your place and vice versa was nothing uncommon, so even if it occurred more than twice a week neither of you truly minded it until that one faithful night that started it all off...

that night you were having another one of your sleepovers, you had cuddled up to him and played with his fingers while he caressed your head with his free hand

you still don’t know why but at some point you two started to jostle for something and you ended up underneath your friend’s lean body

it was all laughs at first, but the moment you two locked eyes with each other the atmosphere changed drastically and before you knew it, you’d began kissing each other passionately; it also didn’t take the two of you too long to get touchy-feely

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

While your tongue was clashing against his own and battling for dominance, you felt his slightly cold fingers dive underneath your shirt. The sudden and unexpected sensation made your body twitch and your back arch against the young man’s chest, who used the opportunity to move his hand further up your back until his nibble fingers reached your bra’s hooks. You halted mid-kiss and opened your eyes and were greeted by a rather erotic expression from the man above you. His hair was a mess, his cheeks, flushed; his pupils were dilated up until the point where the black almost swallowed the slate blue of his irises, and his slightly chapped lips looked glossy from all the saliva you guys exchanged during your passionate kiss. To put it simply: he was a mess.

Knowing that you were responsible for his state made you feel hot and you couldn’t deny that you were getting more aroused by the minute. You used the small timeframe during which he was busy removing the two different fabrics from your upper body to remove his sweatpants. All this time nothing except your individual heavy breathing could be heard, neither of you said anything and just waited for the other to either back away or put an end to this and yet you didn’t. You heard Takao swallow audibly as he took a hold of your cheeks and pressed his lips once again against your own and that gesture made you lose it completely.

Before you knew it, clothes were thrown behind the couch and onto the floor until nothing remained but your undergarments.

“T-Takao, we’re really doing this, huh?” you ask between pants as you impatiently push your hips up to his clothed lower body. A low growl escapes him and instead of answering you, he just bit his lower lip while his hands were busy squeezing your breasts and playing with your nipples.

“ ‘Course we are,” he mumbled in between the kisses and licks he peppered your sensitive buds with. While his hands traveled down your abdomen, you used the opportunity to free his erection from the boxer briefs that confined it, wrapped your hand around his shaft, and began stroking it. With your thumb, you gently spread the bead of precum around his tip while continuously looking at his changing expression. The moment he noticed that his face had become the focus of your attention he immediately straightened himself and glared down at you.

“You little vixen. Do you get off on what you see?” Takao asks as he removes your panties in a swift motion, gives them a quick sniff, and throws them behind the couch. The entire situation made you blush almost instantly, tainting your cheeks in a deep red, and even if you tried to hide from his cheeky grin and curious eyes, your friend was quicker than you and dove his head down between your legs.

Holding your moans and voice in general back proved to be quite the impossible task for you since your friend showed you that his big and loud mouth also had other and way more pleasurable functions than those. The way his tongue skillfully flicked against your clit the moment his thin fingers had come in contact with that one sensitive spot inside of you, made you moan out in surprise and had your back arching ever so slightly. It truly was different when people other than yourself touched your weak spots and with such precision on top of that.

At this rate, I-I’m not going to last—

Mere seconds after you’d thought that Takao took a hold of your thighs and pushed them up towards your chest, exposing your entire lower half to the rather chilly air of the living room. He spread your labia apart while continuing to lick your wet entrance and puffy clit. One of his hands kneaded your breast and the other caressed your mushy insides in a scissoring motion. His eagle-like eyes were fixated on your heavily breathing form and the way your moans turned into whines made him feel even more satisfaction and just like that, he threw all morale away and indulged himself in your body.

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

that night had been quite a long and very pleasurable one

now that you knew how your best friend was in bed, you couldn’t help but see him in a different light

since the two of you were still single and simply had some occasional hookups with no serious intentions behind them it was a good thing that you had crossed the border of simple friendship and were now considering the other a friend with benefits

whenever one of you craved attention, needed to blow off some steam, or was just in need of some physical contact in general you’d repeat what the two of you started during that night

you were also lucky enough to see sides of your best friend that you’d never seen before let alone known of their existence

Takao ticked all the boxes one could wish for

he was attentive to your needs, respectful of your boundaries, he was both assertive and diffident, and of course so very skillful

one thing that surprised you was that he had quite the wholesome kinks despite his rebellious and rather wild appearance

he’d always treat you as if you were a treasure and make sure to give all of your body the attention it deserved

“You’re just so perfect (Y/N)-chan...how can one even think about holding back?”

that’s what he had told you once while the two of you were sharing the bathtub and his hands were caressing your body’s most prominent parts

sure he had his softer sides but like everyone else even he could experience more frustrating and stressful days during which that soft side was replaced by an intenser one

the moment he either left your messages on reading or simply came over to your apartment knocking the door half off its hinges you instinctively knew what was about to go down

on days such as these, he’d remain silent most of the time and simply use your body however he sees fit

someone got on his nerves today?

expect deep and relentless thrusting in all kind of positions that were sure to hit your most sensitive spots

he messed something up and got screamed at by his superior?

you better have a day off on the following day because this man is first going to edge you until you cry and then overstimulate your already spent body until you beg him to stop

bad mood in general?

he’d bind both of your wrists to the bedpost and would remain perfectly silent throughout the entire time he’d pleasure you, regardless of how many times you’d ask him if he was ok and whether you did something wrong, he’d simply spare you a single glance and continue eating you out in a slow but precise manner

the first time he’d shown you this “uglier” side of his you were quite thrown back, but afterward, he treated you so gentle and affectionate that it almost made you forget about everything that had transpired

as time flew by the fact you had tried to suppress ever so often finally came back to haunt you

the fact that the two of you were still friends

yeah sure you had now counted as friends with benefits for the past few months, but the clean cut between your relationship had never been made

“(Y/N)-chan is something the matter, you stopped moving your hips, y’know?”

and with that, you were brought back to the reality before you

the man who had occupied your thoughts was lying underneath you, arms crossed behind his head, small sweat droplets adorning and highlighting his flexed abdominal muscles, his hawk-like eyes looked at your exposed and slightly sweating body, focusing on your hardened nipples and the tightness of your walls that were clinging to his pulsating shaft

usually, you’d choose a better time to bring up important topics such as your relationship with the young man, but the adrenaline within you mixed with the ecstasy you felt from this entire situation made you speak up about what had been bothering you this entire time

“Takao...what are we?”

the light grip the young man had maintained on your hips tightened up ever so slightly and you could see how his jaw muscles tensed up

you yourself were taken aback by the direct confrontation so you couldn’t help but imagine just how much it threw him off the loop

after a while, he asked what you meant with that question and now it was your turn to be speechless

What do I actually want...?

the two of you were really close friends, but what now?

does this relationship even have the potential for a more romantic one or would it simply ruin everything?

Takao noticed that his question had quite the impact on you so he immediately got up from his lying position and took a gentle hold of your arms

his gentle touch startled you ever so slightly, your eyes darted instinctively to his own ones

“(Y/N)-chan...I’m sorry if I startled you with thi-“

“N-No no, don’t apologize! It was my fault for bringing it up in this situation...”

your faint smile was a pathetic attempt to reassure someone who’s known you for such a long time, so as expected Takao didn’t give in ...

· · ─────── · ❀ · ─────── · ·

You felt how his hands slowly moved up to your shoulders and unexpectedly pushed you back, ultimately changing your positions. Now that the young man was on top of you he trapped you underneath him by placing his hands on each side of your head and hooked his legs with yours in such a way that even if you tried to struggle, his weight and muscles wouldn’t let you move even an inch.

“(Y/N),” he began, the unusual way of him calling you by your full name made you tense up even more than you already were, “I think that the two of us know the reason why we never labeled this relationship...if you can even call it that.”

Without giving him much of an answer you simply nodded and waited for him to continue his line of thoughts. After some intense moments of silence, he sighed and began: “I want to be completely honest with you (Y/N), do you seriously think I’m doing all of these things just because I’m that sexually frustrated? Or do you think I’m indulging you just because we’re friends?”

There was some doubt inside your head concerning his last question, but you nodded nonetheless.

“I wouldn’t do that and you know it...sure when we first did it I thought that it might’ve been a mistake and that I was being too pushy, but when you became more touch-starved I knew that it had to mean something and that’s why I kept going...”

He placed one of his hands on your cheek and caressed it lightly, the sensation sending pleasurable goosebumps down your entire body. You wanted to intertwine your fingers with his, but before you could do that his warm hand left your cheek.

“...if you started having your doubts about all of this then I understand that you’d want to stop this.”

The expression he said that last part with made your heart ache, but that young man knew how to hide his pain. In a matter of seconds, he bounced back from completely broken to gentle and loving.

“But let me say this (Y/N)...just cause I’m backing down now doesn’t mean I won’t try to steal you away from your future partner!”

...

...You idiot

Just as he was about to pull away from your insides you hooked your legs around his hips, keeping him buried as deep inside of you as he had been mere moments ago. That gesture of yours was both surprising and quite pleasurable so it was no surprise that he’d have to take a deep and slightly trembling breath.

“Kazunari Takao, you’re such an idiot. When did I ever utter the words of not wanting to be with you anymore...?”

Now your hands found themselves on top of his cheeks, but this time you pulled him down towards yourself and kissed him. The element of surprise vanished pretty quickly and before you knew it he kissed you back with his usual vigor.

“I’m also scared you know..? You’re so important to me that I’m borderline anxious about what could happen if we really do cross the border of friendship, but I’d like to believe that our bond isn’t that thin that we’d end up as enemies if something shouldn’t work out...what do you think?”

The man above you remained silent, but the loving and relieved smile he’d cast upon you gave you all the answers you needed, so without saying anything else you just wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your forehead in the crack of his neck.

Now that you had reached a mutual and more or less wordless understanding it was your bodies’ turn to finish the job.

With newfound vigor, Takao slid his hands down to your legs and lifted them just enough to expose your private parts. He licked his thumb with the very top of his tongue and began drawing circles on your clit. As soon as you were wet enough for his shaft to thrust back and forth his hand directed its focus to your breasts and began kneading them.

And this night marked the first time the two of you embraced and pleased each other like a proper couple...

#knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb fluff #knb smut #knb takao #takao x reader #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙾𝚁'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾 #alysspear

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cruciology · 4 years ago

Text

Hidden (part two)

part one here

Stiles pulled into the parking lot of the 7/11, finding you holding a Slurpee in one hand, face apologetic. He unlocked the doors, letting you climb in. He took off his jacket, trading you for the Slurpee. You pulled it on over your dress. It was still warm from his skin and you were freezing.

“The only reason I’m not lecturing you is because this is grape,” Stiles said, taking a sip. “Where’s your jacket?”

“I left it in his car,” You said, not looking at Stiles.

“Jesus,” Stiles said, rolling his eyes. He sat the drink in the cup holder, turning to face you. “What were you thinking?”

“I thought you weren’t going to lecture me.”

Stiles clenched his jaw, staring at you for a long moment in silence. You met his gaze. Finally he started, “Did he-,”

“No, we didn’t do anything.” You had expected this. Obviously you had expected this, you knew how it looked.

Stiles took a deep breath. “Put on your seatbelt,” He said. You did as you were told as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“You can’t take me home,” You said suddenly. He turned to look at you for a moment, trying to figure out if you were serious. “I told Scott I was going to stay the night at Allison’s.”

“Why would you tell Scott that?”

“Because Allison will cover for me,” You said sheepishly.

“What did you need cover all night for?” Stiles asked, looking at you again. He said your name, making you look at him. “What did you need cover all night for?” He repeated.

“I’ll tell you everything, I promise, but you can’t take me home and you can’t tell Scott any of this,” You said.

Stiles stared straight ahead for a long moment. He nodded. “You can come stay at my house, my dad isn’t home.”

“Thank you, Stiles, I swear-,”

“What did you need cover all night for?” He repeated a third time. He still wasn’t looking at you.

“You’re mad.”

Stiles sighed, brushing a hand through his hair. “You know how dangerous this town is. And Scott and I warned you about Jackson. I’m not mad, I’m just...disappointed.”

You quirked a small smile. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Ew, stop, don’t,” Stiles said, his nose pinched. It was quiet again for a long minute.

“I didn’t fuck Jackson, I promise.” Stiles winced a little but didn’t say anything. “He was trying to, but I didn’t want to so he told me to get out of the car.”

“I’m not trying to blame you, that’s a dick move, what he did, but seriously. What did you expect? Jackson is an asshole,” Stiles said. They were already pulling into his driveway. He put his Jeep in park and turned to look at you once again. “You text a guy like that late at night and ask to hang out, you know that’s what they’re thinking. Scott and I don’t need to tell you that.”

“I know that’s what he would think, that’s what I wanted.” You bit your lip, looking anywhere but Stiles’ face.

“You wanted him to think you wanted to-,”

“This is so embarrassing,” You shook your head. “It was stupid, I did something really stupid. I’m sorry I dragged you into it too. But I promise, nothing happened, that’s it, I swear, Stiles. I’m still pure.” You made an ‘X’ over your heart.

“Didn’t you give me a lecture about that language being puritancial?” Stiles asked, puncturing some of the tension in the car.

“It is,” You said. “Scott has sex, no one says anything. You can have sex because you’re a guy and it’s no big deal, but just because I’m a girl it’s a whole ordeal.”

“It’s a big deal because you’re sixteen,” Stiles said. He finally opened his door and you did the same. “Your first time is supposed to be special, haven’t you ever watched a teen movie?”

You walked up to the door with him, following him inside. “What was your first time like, then?”

Stiles laughed loudly, echoing through the empty house as he climbed the stairs to his room. “You’ve known me your whole life, when do you think I had sex?” Stiles said. “I might as well have ‘virgin’ tattooed on my forehead.”

“Because you’re waiting for someone special?”

“No, you wait for someone special, I’m waiting for anyone who’s willing,” Stiles said, coming up to his room. He opened the door for you, letting you go in first and then coming in behind you.

“Double standard,” You laughed. “Just because I’m a girl-,”

“It’s not because you’re a girl, it’s because you’re gorgeous, you can afford to be picky,” Stiles said, instantly regretting the words that came out of his mouth. He had let this conversation go too far. He shouldn’t be talking about sex with his best friend’s little sister. Especially not while you were alone in his bedroom.

But he couldn’t help but notice you were blushing.

“Here,” He said, digging through his drawers and pulling out a clean shirt and a pair of basketball shorts for you as a way to change the subject. You grabbed them from him quickly and left for the bathroom. Stiles released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he heard the bathroom door click shut behind you.

He grabbed his own pajama pants and changed out of his jeans. He checked his phone again, as if expecting a text from Scott asking where his sister was, but there was nothing.

You walked back into Stiles’ room, tossing your clothes on the chair next to his bed. Stiles turned to ask you something, but his question caught in his throat. His t shirt came to a stop at your mid thigh, just barely covering your ass.

“I gave you pants, Jesus,” Stiles said. He grabbed your shoulders, moving you into the bed and covering you with the blanket.

“Stiles, you’ve seen me in my underwear before.” You rolled your eyes but snuggled down deeper in his bed, pulling the blanket up to your chin.

“Yeah, when we were like ten,” He said. “Just go to bed, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

“Why are you going downstairs?” You asked, propping yourself up on your elbow to look at him. “We’ve shared a bed before, too, Stiles. And that was just last summer.”

“That was different,” Stiles said, his cheeks turning pink. Scott had been in the bed with you and Stiles, just on the other side of you. Stiles didn’t want to explain why that was so different.

“Just turn off the light and get in,” You said, laying back down. Stiles took a deep breath, shutting the light off and pulling the covers back before climbing in. He made sure to keep a few inches of space between him and any part of your body as he laid on his back.

He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of your breathing as he felt closer to sleep. He had almost drifted off when you spoke.

“I was going to have sex with Jackson.”

Stiles’ eyes shot wide open in the dark. “What?”

“That’s why I texted him. Well, actually that’s why I was talking to him in the first place,” You explained. “I know he’s a dick, so I figured I could just have sex with him and then he’d leave me alone.”

“You want a guy to just have sex with you and leave?” Stiles asked, turned towards you in the dark. He could only see your outline, your hands tucked under your cheek as you lay on your side facing him.

“I didn’t want it to be awkward, I thought I didn’t want to sleep with a guy I actually liked for my first time,” You said. “But then when I was actually in his car and he was touching me, it felt all wrong.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” Stiles said. You laughed, nudging him. He rolled over to face you, his arm bent under his head.

“I know it was stupid now, but it made sense in my head,” You defended. “I just wanted to get it over with.”

Stiles sighed. “I get it.” He reached his hand over to squeeze your shoulder before letting it fall between you.

After a moment you reached for his hand, holding it in yours before putting it under the blankets. Alarms blared in Stiles’ head as you moved his hand down, but he let you, loving the feel of your skin on his. He swallowed hard as you placed his hand over your panties.

He said your name gently but didn’t pull his hand away. You scooted closer, your bodies only an inch away from each other and your hand still over his on your underwear. “You’re my best friend’s little sister, I can’t do this.”

“Don’t talk about Scott right now,” You said. You moved his hand lower, between your thighs. He groaned as his fingers felt the wetness pooled there. He pressed his fingers against you, making you moan, your eyes flutter closed. He moved his other arm under you, pulling you closer to him. You could feel him getting hard against your thigh. Your face hidden in the crook of his neck, he moved his hand into your panties, now touching your actual wet, hot flesh. Your hand gripped his t-shirt as he pushed a finger inside of you.

“Does that feel okay?” He whispered in your ear. You nodded against his chest. He added another finger inside of you, moving his hand against you and feeling you move your hips in time with him.

“I’ve thought about you touching me like this,” You admitted. Stiles swallowed hard again, only pausing his movements briefly. “When I’m doing it myself, I imagine you doing it. It’s how I make myself… you know.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Stiles cursed, his eyes pressing closed. He was so painfully hard now and your admission was only making him ache. “Show me how you like it.”

You moved your hand back over his, guiding his thumb to your clit. You were so close already just from the thrill of being in his bed with his fingers inside you. You felt like every nerve ending was on fire as he rubbed your clit, his fingers still moving in time inside you.

Your hands went to his shoulders, holding him tightly as you felt the wave crash over you. You said his name as you came, your face hidden in his chest. He removed his hand from you, setting it on your hip.

“Have you done that with anyone before?” Stiles asked. You shook your head. He cursed under his breath again. “We should go to sleep.” He said, despite what was pressed against your thigh. You shifted against him, rubbing your thigh against his hard on and making him let out a labored breath. He muttered your name with his eyes squeezed shut.

You pushed him onto his back, straddling his lap and your center pressed firmly against his. His hands held your hips tightly. You rolled your hips against him, making him groan.

“That feels, fuck, so fucking good,” He muttered. You liked how he felt between your legs. You wanted the thin layers of clothing gone so you could feel all of him, not just the bulge in his pajama pants.

You moved one of his hands from your hip, guiding it under his shirt that you wore to feel your chest. “This is so wrong,” He said even as he groped your breast. “Scott would tear my throat out if he knew I was doing this.”

“Stiles, I swear to God if you mention my brother one more time,” You said.

“He’s my best friend,” Stiles said.

You pulled the hem of your shirt up and over your head and discarded it on the ground. He stared up at you, almost fully naked in his bed on top of him. You reached down between your legs, your hand going under his waistband and grabbing his hard on fully. You ran your thumb over the head of his dick.

You leaned down, kissing his neck first before his fingers traced your cheek, guiding your face to his. He kissed you softly at first, but then grew more intense. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pressing you against him. Both your hands went to his shoulders, trying to right yourself as his kisses made you feel dizzy. He held you close as he flipped your bodies over, now on top of you, your legs spread open underneath him.

“Stiles, please,” You begged. You rolled your hips up against him.

“We can’t,” He said breathlessly, his forehead resting in the crook of your neck. “Fuck, we need to stop.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I don’t want to either,” He admitted. “But we can’t.”

“I’m not just Scott’s sister,” You said. “I don’t think you realize how bad I’ve wanted this and for how long. I think about you all the time.”

“Fuck, please don’t say that,” Stiles said. “This is already going to fuel every one on one session with myself for the next ten years.”

You laughed. You moved his face to yours again, kissing him. “I think about you kissing me,” You said, pulling at the hem of his shirt until he lets you take it off. “I think about you going down on me.” He kissed your collar bone, moving his lips down lower until he could take a nipple into his mouth, sucking it between his teeth and making you gasp. “I think about you doing that.”

“I think about you too,” He admitted. “Especially when you wear those short skirts your mom hates.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” He brought his face back up to yours. “All the fucking time. I can’t stop thinking about you. But we can’t.”

“Stiles.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so hard in my life,” He said into your neck.

“Just once,” You whispered into his ear. “We don’t have to tell anyone.”

You kissed his lips again and his resolve broke. He pulled your underwear down and off your legs. He pulled off his own pants and tossed them to the floor as well. He reached over to his night stand, finding the condoms his dad had put there “just in case” after their birds and bees talk. He quickly opened it, shoving his boxers down enough to roll the condom on.

You spread your legs underneath him, as he settled back between them. “Are you sure?” He asked, looking at your face in the dark. His eyes had adjusted enough that he could make out every detail in the moonlight that came through the window. You nodded, squeezing his shoulder.

He pushed into you slowly, until he was fully inside of you. You gasped as you tried to adjust to his size. He held your thigh that wrapped around him tightly, his face hidden in the crook of your neck once again. You felt so good around him, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

“Keep going,” You said. You rolled your hips up, encouraging him. He kissed you, thrusting against you and making you gasp again. “Faster.”

He complied, rutting against you, his breathing getting heavy as he tried to think of Coach and sweaty gym socks to try and stop himself from finishing in less than a minute.

“I’m gonna cum,” He said against your lips. He whispered your name again, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand reached around your back, holding you as close to him as he could as he fucked you. With a shudder, you felt him cum, his grip going even tighter. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

You laughed breathlessly. “No, that was perfect,” You said, running your hand through his hair as he went slightly limp against you before rolling off. For a moment, you were afraid he was going to scoot away, but instead, he pulled you close to his side, letting you put your head on his chest. He kissed your forehead, his hand in your hair.

His arms were still around you as you fell asleep.

#stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #reader insert #smut #osha violation

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iamverysmall-andihavenomoney · 4 years ago

Text

“It’s going to be okay.”

I just did a couple of my comfort characters for this one. Send in requests if you want to see specific characters, I’d love to write for y’all’s comfort characters too 🤍

Haikyū!! Masterlist

Pairing(s): Suna Rintarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Miya Atsumu x Gender Neutral! Reader, Tsukishima Kei x Gender Neutral! Reader, Bokuto Kōtarō x Gender Neutral! Reader, Oikawa Tōru x Gender Neutral! Reader

Warnings: Fluff/Comfort, Reader is stressed out because of jobs/midterms/college in general, reader cries

Suna Rintarō:

It had been a rough week.

It felt like everything was going wrong. Day in and day out.

It felt like the universe was hell bent on making you break, this past week.

You worked as a barista, while you got yourself through college.

Not an easy job, despite what some people liked to believe.

And with each day came a new promise.

Monday? A trip to the ER with second and third degree burns on your arms, when an angry customer had taken out their anger on you.

Tuesday? Your boss had yelled at you - humiliated you in front of the rest of your coworkers.

Wednesday? You ended up not realizing that yo were decorated in chocolate syrup, when you slumped on your bed, having to wash the sheets and most of you laundry, after.

Thursday? You’d tripped while at work and gotten to go home early, with your face burning in embarrassment at the snickers of other college students.

Friday? A pop quiz that you were 50% sure you failed.

Now it was Saturday, your studying? Done. Your assignments? Completed.

But you still felt the stress of the past week weighing on you.

So when you started tearing up, Suna couldn’t say he was surprised. He wished he could have made this past week easier for you.

Midterms were coming up, as well, just adding to the stress you were already feeling.

So, your boyfriend just does what comes natural to him, when it comes to you.

Rintarō doesn’t waste a moment when he returns from practice, spotting you slumped over on the couch, glaring at the floor while you tried not to let any tears fall from your eyes. With your choice comfort movie playing on the screen, he knew he had to do something.

Even if you had been pushing him away out of frustration, for the duration of this entire week.

Rintarō walks over to you and gently scoops you up in his arms, before sitting on the couch with you in his lap. Well-manicured nails begin to softly and affectionately run over your scalp, bringing a comfort to you that you could no longer deny you needed. Desperately.

He tugs you gently so you’re comfortable in his lap before he brings a calloused hand to your cheek, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone softly. He can’t help his sweet, soft smile as he sees the first tears trickle down your cheeks. He normally hated to see you cry, but he knew that you needed to get this out.

Sometimes, people just needed to scream and cry to get pent up emotion out. So when you started sobbing, completely collapsing against your boyfriend’s chest, he pulls you as close to him as you can possibly get, rocking you as he cradles your body against his own.

“There’s my baby, let it out...” His tone is soft as his hand holds your head against his chest. “Let it all out. It’s going to be okay. I’m here and I’ve got you.”

He doesn’t quite know how long it is until your sobs quiet down, the crying wearing you out, but it doesn’t matter to him. He snatches the remote up to restart the movie that you’d failed to get through, earlier, before tossing that same remote across the couch so he could readjust your bodies.

Leaning his shoulders and head against the pillow and armrest, he reclines himself, allowing you to get comfortable on top of him. As you rest on him, he brings a hand to your cheek once again, wiping away any remnants of the tears that had previously decorated your cheeks.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. I promise.”

Miya Atsumu:

Being stressed around your boyfriend?

Unheard of.

Atsumu is a perceptive little shit who picks up on the smallest changes in your mood.

And he will do everything in his power to reassure you, or cheer you up, whatever you need.

So, it’s not built up stress that gets you.

No, it’s the phone call you get in the middle of the night, while you’re resting in Atsumu’s arms.

You and Atsumu put your phones on do not disturb/bedtime mode every night.

Very few people are set up so that your phone will ring, when they call.

So, you end up waking up pretty quickly at the sound of a familiar ringtone, Atsumu sleepily sitting up beside you as you sit up to take the call.

Your best friend.

Who had just been admitted to the hospital after a car crash.

They were most likely going to make it, but they were still undergoing surgery and you knew that anything could happen.

You were her emergency contact so they called you from the ambulance.

Not too long after, you found out that the other person was undergoing surgery and probably wouldn’t make it.

The realization that that could have been your best friend made you feel like you couldn’t breath.

Atsumu had been watching your frantic pacing for the past ten minutes, watching you work yourself up more and more. You were shaking, though you hadn’t turned to him yet, like you always did, when you needed comfort. And he was too scared to make it worse.

Until he heard how your breath caught in your throat, once again, nearly sounding like you were about to start hyperventilating. Standing, the tall volleyball player comes to stop in front of you, gently grasping your wrists in his hands to make you look at him. He doesn’t say anything as you let out a shaky breath and crumble against him, just falling into his open arms.

Cradling you against him with his large palm at the back of your head, he lets you get out the emotions that were pent up, soft sobs being let out against his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he whispers soft words of encouragement. “They’re going to be okay, sweetheart. It’s going to be okay, I promise. And have I ever broken my promises to you?”

With a shake of your head, your sobs quiet and all that’s left escaping you are quiet sniffles. If anyone was able to calm you, it’d be your Tsumu. There wasn’t a bad day you could remember that he hadn’t made things better. Your boyfriend always knew what to say... When it came to you, at least.

It wasn’t ten minutes later when a doctor came out to let you know that the surgery had been a success and that your friend was okay.

They’d be asleep for a few hours, allowing you to go home and change from your pajamas, if you would like. You didn’t catch that bit with the immediate relief that flooded through you.

You both did end up going home to shower and change, wanting to get you both and your friend some food on your way back. As soon as you were in the comfort of your own home, Atsumu took your face in his hands, cradling your cheeks and gently stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

“As long as I’m around, I am going to make sure that everything works out in the end. I don’t like seeing you cry and I don’t like seeing you stressed out. You’re my significant other and I’m going to take care of you.” He reassures you earnestly. “It’s all going to be okay, I promise.”

And as his arms wrap around you, pulling you into his chest, you know that it is, in fact, all going to be okay. You had Atsumu and he had you.

Tsukishima Kei:

Mid-terms aren’t shit.

Not only are the tests long, and hard, and stressful,

But both you and Kei had them.

And both you and Kei had attitudes - especially when it came to either of you getting stressed out.

So, you both decided to stay and study on your own for the most part, until exams were over.

It was only a week, after all, how much harm could a single week do to the two of your mental states?

A lot, apparently.

It was Kei who caved first, surprisingly, needing to see you.

It was actually pretty unsurprising, boy is whipped for you.

Grabbing his keys, he tugs on the hoodie you’d gotten him for his birthday, along with grabbing you matching one that you’d left at his place.

Then he leaves, his usual preference to wear pants rather than sweatpants, when he left his home, being overpowered by his craving to see you.

And he knew you needed to see him too.

But if anyone was more stubborn than he was about things, it was you and he knew you weren’t going to cave anytime soon.

What he didn’t expect when he entered your home was to find you crying into your hands, in a pile of your own notes, with your computer in front of you.

He furrowed his brows - you had overwhelmed yourself...

Because he hadn’t been here to prevent you from it.

Kei sighs as he listens to the clanking of keys together, his attempts to unlock the door to your apartment failing multiple times, before finally ending in success. At least he knew no one would ever break into your apartment. They wouldn’t be able to get in.

Look at him, he’d been over here a dozen times and it still took him about three minutes to manage your locks open. You must know how much he loved you with the fact he still put up with it. He enters the home, near silently, placing the strawberry shortcakes and milkshakes down on the counter, his keys being hung beside yours. Walking past your kitchen, he freezes in the doorway, hearing your quieted sobs before he sees you.

He had never, not even in his years of playing volleyball, moved as quickly as he did in that moment. He moved to kneel in front of where you were seated on the couch, taking your laptop and shutting it.

Kei knew you hadn’t opened your eyes, or moved your hands from shielding your face to see him, but you knew it was him with the way you slid off of the spot on the couch to kneel on the floor, your face finding familiar purchase in his neck.

“I’m not around for a few days and you manage to overwork yourself like this. God damn it, Y/N, don’t do this again.” His words, no matter if they should have sounded angry, just came out worried.

You knew that the only person he was mad at was himself for even suggesting the idea of you both spending time studying individually.

“I’m right here, okay? I’m not going to be going anywhere,” placing a large hand on the back of your head, he gently kisses the crown of your head. “It’s going to be okay, I promise.”

“It’s all going to be okay,” his soothing voice calms you quite a bit, making your body slump against his in relaxation. “There’s my shortcake. Just relax, alright. We’ll study more later. In the meantime, we’re going to watch a movie and eat the sweets I brought. I don’t want you to think about those god damn exams.” Your nod in confirmation is all he needs to get you both comfortable on the couch so he can take care of his partner... Like he should have been going this entire time.

Bokuto Kōtarō:

Kōtarō, despite people thinking he’s not the smartest, is a very intelligent person.

Especially when it comes to emotional intelligence.

Which is why he figured out about your family issues, within a month.

Poor boy wished he could do something, though other than the constant sleepovers in high school, there wasn’t much else he could do. It broke his heart.

But that changed, when you both graduated high school together.

He didn’t allow you to stay any longer in that house. You’d dealt with the constant yelling and the lack of care for your feelings, long enough.

Though, that didn’t mean you’d escaped it when you went to reunions or to visit them on holidays.

They always managed to drag you into going.

And they always managed to drag you into their bullshit.

Kōtarō hadn’t been able to go to this year’s reunion - a practice game held him up.

His presence usually encouraged your family member to back the fuck off and not drag you into things.

But, this time...

He was just glad he’d gotten there when he did.

Pulling up in the driveway of the designated home of this particular family reunion, he could hear the yelling, as soon as he stepped out of his car. The volleyball player tensed up as he quickly walked towards the home, throwing the door open without care.

Kōtarō wished you wouldn’t put yourself through this. You didn’t deserve it. He enters the living room, most of the arguing falling silent at his presence, already knowing that he wouldn’t hesitate to get on them for their bullshit. Walking over to you, where you sat, slumped at the dinner table, your head in your hands, he frowns.

He wasn’t surprised when he found tears in your eyes as he gently picked your head up to look at him. A frown befalls him, once again and he guides you to stand, pulling you into his embrace, his hand holding your head against him, practically cradling you.

He holds you for a few long moments to let you calm down, before he turns towards your family, letting you go so he can take your hand. “We’re leaving. They’re tired.”

No one argues. They’d seen how angry Kōtarō got when it came to you and they didn’t want to face the wrath of the angry volleyball player.

Without another word from you both, or spoken to you both, Kōtarō escorts you out of the house. As soon as you’re out, you can hear the yelling ensue, once again. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he whispers as he pulls you into him, once again. “It’s going to be okay.” He whispers to you, pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

“I promise. We’ll go home and take a long bath... We can make some cookies and relax. We can even watch some Disney movies and make a pillow fort. How’s that sound, my sweet owl?” Kōtarō cooes as he begins to walk you to the car, smiling at you as he noticed how relaxed you seemed to be out, away from them and with your fiancé.

No matter if he could help your family’s constant fighting, he’d always be here to whisper soft reassurances to you and make sure that everything was okay.

Oikawa Tōru:

Dating Tōru isn’t easy.

Living over 18,000 kilometers from one another was no easy feat.

Somedays are easier than others.

And this wasn’t one of those ‘easier’ days.

No, not at all.

Instead, today is one of those days that you tug on Tōru’s old volleyball jacket and bury your nose in the collar, hopping it’ll smell somewhat like him.

One of those days that you watch his dazzling face appear on the screen of your television and pretend he’s here with you.

It’s one of those days that you shoot him an ‘I miss you’ text and he’s unable to reply.

You both make it work because you love one another and want to watch the other succeed and do what they love.

But sometimes, it would be so much easier if you both lived on the same continent.

What you didn’t realize was that he hadn’t been to reply to you, because he was caught up getting his stuff off of the plane and into a car.

He was exhausted, but excited to see you.

He wasn’t expecting to come home and find you asleep on your couch, wrapped up in his jacket with dried tears on your cheeks.

Tōru dropped his bags at the door - he could worry about them later, right now he needed to get to you. With his signature grin, he walks through the kitchen, “Cutie,” he cooes through the apartment, before halting as he enters your living room, head tilting like a confused puppy’s would as he spotted you.

His brows furrow and a frown crosses his lips, walking over to you and dropping to his knees in front of your sleeping form on the couch. He brings his hand up to gently stroke your cold cheek. “Y/N...” He cooes as he caresses your face, waiting for you to stir. Once you begin to open your eyes, a smile returns to his face, seeing your excitement overpower the sleepiness in your features.

“You’re here...” You whisper, pushing yourself forward to hug your fiancé, no matter how unconventional this position was for you both. “I missed you,” you mumble into the soft cloth of his shirt, inhaling deeply. Peppermint. He always smelled like peppermint and it was a scent you had immensely missed.

“I missed you too, cutie... But it’s okay. I’m here, now.” Tōru reassures, shifting so that he can scoop you up into his arms while you curl up into him.

Not hesitating to want to fall asleep with you in his arms, once again, he brings you to the bedroom, dropping you onto the bed and pulling out comfier clothes for the both of you. Unpacking could wait later. Explanations of the vacation he was taking could wait. You being comfortable and in his arms was all he wanted.

He undresses you, putting one of his shirts on you, before he undresses, as well, pulling on a pair of sweatpants, before he pulls back the covers and slides under them with you.

Long, toned arms come to wrap themselves securely around you, pulling you into a tanned chest. “I missed you so much... But I’m here now, alright?” He whispers to you, kissing your head with a tenderness that only you got to see from the Argentinian volleyball player.

“Go to sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up.”

It was safe to say you fell asleep peacefully in his arms, finding peace in the fact that you’d soon be happily waking up in his arms.

General Taglist:

@thathoneybee3 @bratkugo

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mono-moonchilds · 4 years ago

Note

Hi my request is smut with some angst, so jungkook and y/n are best friends and she's always been in love with him but he has a gf and never really seemed interested so she never told him how she felt. But one night he ends up in a fight with his gf and he comes to y/n they get drunk and end up hooking up but jungkook seemed to really want it but the next morning when she finally feels she can confess he just leaves her telling her he regrets it and chooses his gf instead of her saying he couldn't love her in that way can you make the ending angsty please

Thank you

→ Note: Thank you so much for requesting. I hope you enjoy it!

→ Warnings: smut, angst, unprotected sex (don’t do the dummy like these two lol)

→ Word count: 2k+

“I just don’t get it.” Jungkook angrily slams his fist down on your bed. “I just don’t get her. Why the hell she acts like this. Treats me like I’m the fucking problem. When it’s her.” He sneers, bringing the beer you’d given him taking a long drag. “It’s always fucking her.”

“I know kook,” You agreed not knowing what else to say. You looked at your best friend taking in his exasperated expression feeling bad for him. Leaning over you gently caressed his knuckles giving him a soft smile. “I’m sorry you even have to deal with stuff like this.”

“Is it me, ____? Like what the hell am I doing wrong that it always comes to this. Every goddamn day it’s something. What am I doing?”

You frowned. Nothing was Jungkook’s fault and you weren’t just saying that because he was your best friend. Jungkook was always trying to find different ways to please Yeona but it was never enough. She constantly found fault in anything he did, picking it apart tirelessly. Honestly, you weren’t even sure how they’d made it this far. Two years and three months of nothing but constant bickering and arguments that ended with Jungkook leaving his and Yeona’s shared apartment sometimes for days on end.

Not that you were counting….You definitely weren’t counting.

“We’ve talked about this before. It’s not your fault Jungkook.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” You shook your head. “I would tell you if you’re being a dumbass and were in the wrong. I have no problem with doing that. For example, right now you’re being a dumbass for even attempting to blame yourself.”

“It’s hard not to blame yourself when you don’t understand what is going wrong.”

You knew exactly what was going wrong and it wasn’t Jungkook. It was Yeona. It was always Yeona but of course, you could never say that because Jungkook worshipped the ground she walked on. You got Jungkook’s little infatuation with Yeona. She was very beautiful, nice enough if you held a short surface-level conversation with her, but anything deeper than that the girl was a pain.

“It doesn’t matter though,” Jungkook huffed, finishing off his beer. “It’s over. Two years of my life down the fucking drain.”

Your ears perked up at this. That was a first. You’d never heard Jungkook say anything like this. Not even when he was in deep with his rage with Yeona had he ever murmured or even insinuated that he would break up with her.

“What do you mean?”

“What? I didn’t tell you.” He chuckled dryly. “Yeona fucking dumped my ass. Told me she couldn’t do this anymore.

“Oh, damn, I’m sorry Jungkook.” You said trying your hardest to sound like you felt bad when in reality you felt the exact opposite.

Of course, you were upset about this happening to Jungkook, he was a great person and even better boyfriend but you were on the other hand glad because this Yeona madness was coming to an end.

Jungkook deserved better. He deserved a lot more. He deserved someone like-

“Yeah me too.” Jungkook sighed. His hand went up swiftly wiping under his eyes, hoping that you hadn’t seen but you had. You saw everything he did. Paid attention to each and every detail about him. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His bunny teeth. The small mole on the back of his neck. Everything. He turned to you with sad eyes. “Can I stay here for a few days? Just till I get my stuff and figure some shit out.”

“You know you don’t have to ask me that. You can stay here as long as you want.” Jungkook gave you a forced smile thanking you softly. You playfully rolled your eyes, shrugging him off.

“You want another beer?” You asked and Jungkook nodded. Getting up from your bed you went to the kitchen grabbing two more beers.

When you came back Jungkook was laid back on your bed comfortably staring up at the ceiling. You climbed next to him passing him his new beer.

“Cuddles?” He asked after gulping down the drink halfway.

“Hell yeah,” You agreed instantly making a giggle escape his lips. It was a beautiful sight. Jungkook had the best smile. “Big spoon or little spoon?”

“Little,”

You turned on your T.V flipping on a quick movie then got next to Jungkook. You leaned against the headboard while he laid on your belly allow you to rub and fiddle with his long hair. About mid-movie, you glanced down at Jungkook, just to check on how he was doing. Through the movie, you two had watched he’d barely moved an inch or said anything. Jungkook was already intently focused on your face.

“What?” You laugh. “Do I have something on my face?”

He shook his head. “You’re always there for me, ____,” Jungkook says.

“Of course I am kook.” You shrug, fingers still sliding through his neck-length hair. “. I’ll always be there for you.”

Jungkook shifted off your stomach so that now he was face to face looking at you. “Don’t you ever get tired? Listening to the same old shit.”

“I get tired of the way she treats you. But I’ll never be tired of listening to you. You listen to me and my shit. Plus I’d be a pretty crap friend if I let you go through certain things alone.”

You weren’t expecting it. You really weren’t. The possibility of it happening sometimes graced your dreams but the chances of it happening in real life were something you’d never even entertained.

Jungkook’s warm lips being pressed against yours. It’d genuinely caught you off guard. Your eyes are still wide open, and your heart pumping on overtime. Jungkook pulled away taking in your expression, interpreting it the wrong way, and immediately began to profusely apologize.

“Fuck- Fuck ____, shit I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what came-”

You cut him off pulling him back close by his black shirt and pressed your lips back against his. Your mouths began to move frantically against each other. The kiss quickly turning from a peck to a semi-sloppy, heated passion-filled makeout. Your heart felt like it was about to damn near burst out your chest now. The thumping growing so hard you’d be surprised if Jungkook couldn’t hear it himself. Sneakily you took your hand and pinched your wrist.

Yep, this was real. This was really happening. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook’s body leaned against yours pushing you down so you were now laying against the bed. Everything felt hot. Your face, your body, Jungkook’s body, everywhere. You could barely even think properly the only thing being on your mind is Jungkook and not letting your lips disconnect.

It’s not until you feel warm fingers graze across your abdomen, dangerously close to the hem of your shorts when your brought back to reality. You jump a little at the sensation and Jungkook notices pulling away.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters looking away. “Too much?”

You shake your head immediately trying to assure him differently. “No, no. It’s okay. You just caught me off guard that’s all.”

Jungkook sat back, eyes still cast elsewhere in the room.

“I-I don’t want to stop.” You said shakily. Jungkook finally looked over at you, curiosity and unsureness riddled in them.

“Really?”

You nodded. Jungkook leaned forward hovering back over you.

“Are you really sure, ____?” Junkook repeated again and you nodded once more then added.

“I want to do this. I want you.” You confessed.

After almost ten years of holding that to yourself, it felt good to finally let it out. To finally have the courage to tell the man you’d been in love with for practically half your life how much you wanted him.

Jungkook didn’t say anything but he didn’t need to. His lips crashing back against yours were all the words you needed. His hands fell back to your waist, giving a testing rub before dipping his hands into your light blue cloud design-filled pajama short. His fingers ghosted across your cunt making you shiver at the light sensation.

“You are so wet,” Jungkook grumbled against your lips.

Finally, he pushed his hand inside your panties gently rubbing at your sensitive clit. Your eyes fluttered close, soft short breaths escaping from your mouth You still couldn’t even believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe that you finally had Jungkook in your arms and for once not only in a platonic way.

Taking one single long digit Jungkook carefully pushed it into your cunt causing a breath moan to tumble off your tongue. Jungkook’s breath fans over your neck ever so often his lips coming into contact with your skin sucking and kissing on it. He stops for a brief moment pushing in another finger and you cry out even louder. The feeling of his fingers fucking into you at a moderate pace has your heels digging into the bed and legs trembling.

“Kook-Kookie,” You moan out, fingers becoming tightly wrapped around his locks, holding his head close to your neck. Everything felt so good. Better than anything you’d imagined over the years.

When Jungkook’s finger pads brush against a certain spot you yelp out even louder in pleasure. “Right there.” You whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

Jungkook obliges even more so by speeding up his fingers. It only takes a few more rubs against that spot until your legs begin to shake, tremors raking through it. You tugged unconsciously tugged at Jungkook’s hair even harder allowing the damn near blinding pleasure to take over.

“Fuck, ____, “ Jungkook was grinning down at you when you finally open back up your eyes. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You felt your face grow hot at the subtle praise, a dazed smile finding its way onto your lips. Carefully Jungkook pulled his fingers out, then climbed over you to stand up and pull his baggy sweat pants down. You could see the print of his hard thick cock pressed angrily against his cotton briefs. When he pulls his boxers down his cock bounces proudly in the air. You weren’t surprised by the size. One time a few years ago you were on his phone and were surprised with seeing his dick pics. That time you were shocked, but now excitement coursed through your veins. There it was. Thick, long, and pretty, and finally all for you.

Jungkook climbed back on top of you, helping you shimmy off your panties before wrapping your legs around his waist. He took his cock rubbing it a few times against your slit before gingerly pushing himself inside.

You moaned out loudly, his cock stretching you out way more than you were ever used to previously. Jungkook’s head fell into the crook of your neck, letting out a string of expletives as he as well basks in the pleasure of your velvety walls sucking him in slowly. For a moment you two didn’t move just taking in the moment, sprinkling kisses against the other.

“Move please,” You finally whimpered out, and without saying anything else Jungkook obliged.

His hips began to skillfully knock against yours somehow stretching you out even more with each heavy thrust. You cried, wrapping your legs tighter against Jungkook and holding his progressively sweaty body against yours.

Everything was perfect. Felt just the way you’d imagined it for years.

It didn’t take long before you felt your end coming near again. Digging in your nails, and grasping onto his shoulder you braced yourself for the flood of pleasure that was about to invade your body. When it comes it comes strong causing your eyes to roll back and your body to convulse on the bed.

Almost as if he is as well triggered by your orgasm a few high-pitched groans fall into your ears, his hips beginning to move faster and faster until Jungkook comes, shooting his warm come into your sopping pussy.

You both stay pressed together for a moment before Jungkook pulls out rolling onto the side next to you. His cum is leaking out of you, dripping onto the sheets but you don’t really care. Rolling on your side you cuddle against his chest.

The room was quiet for a while.

“Did you like it?” You peak up at Jungkook. His eyes are focused blankly in front of him. His expression is unreadable. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I loved it.” Jungkook announced.

You smile snuggling closer to him. “Me too.”

You should’ve asked more questions, you really should’ve but instead, you closed your eyes and soon was lulled to sleep by the sound of his heartbeat unbenounced to the mess that would greet you the next morning.

When you wake up the next day it is to the sound of shuffling in the room. As you open your eyes you see Jungkook in a rush moving around your room shoving his foot into his pants.

“Kook,” You mumbled rubbing your eyes sitting up in bed. “Where are you going? Is everything okay?”

An expletive fell from his mouth. “Yeona called.” He said simply.

“Okay? Did something happen?” You asked, still not fully alert nor wanting to understand what was going on.

“No. Well yeah. She asked me to come back home.”

At this you become alert. Eyes popping open. “Huh?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook muttered, staring at the floor.

“And you’re going to go back?”

“Well...yeah….” He said as if it was obvious.

“But-but what about yesterday. Last night.”

“...it was fun.”

“That’s all it was...fun?”

“What do you want me to say ____I love Yeona. What we did was fun but that’s all right?”

You felt your heartbreak. It literally felt like it’d been shattered into many pieces and the number one perpetrator was Jeon Jungkook. You felt the tears burning in your eyes. Suddenly you were all too aware you felt the dry come stuck to your thighs and wanted to puke.

“Go,” You chocked out.

Jungkook listened. Didn’t even try to put up a fight. He just grabbed his shirt left out your room the front door of your apartment slamming behind him. You sat there for a moment, waiting for him to come back and say it was all a sick joke but he never did.

#bts smut #bts angst #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook #kpop angst #kpop smut #drabble #anon request

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bi-bi-buckleydiaz · 4 years ago

Text

i think not | owen joyner

requested?; - yes! Owen Joyner x reader - their characters might not be love interests on the show (readers is possibly a new one for Luke/which causes a rift in Juke) but they are in real life and are trying to keep it on the down low especially during cast interviews and with fans.

word count; 2K

warnings; language, yelling but only like two sentences

a/n; I didn’t know how to end it so the ending kinda sucks sorry. also side note, the character the reader plays on jatp is a character I’m planning on writing an x reggie fic with so be on the lookout for that !

that close up tho

You didn’t mean for it to happen.

Not the, relationship, of course. You wanted that to happen. You’ve been wanting that to happen since you were an extra dancer on the first season of Julie and the Phantoms and danced right into Owen on accident during The Other Side of Hollywood. He was sweet about it, of course he was, asking if you were okay when he was the one that got barrelled into. The apology coffee date turned into a movie night at his apartment which then turned into weekly Friday night takeout dates which ultimately turned into Owen blurting out one night that he liked you and wanted to be your boyfriend.

You obviously said yes.

Which brings you to now, two years later filming season two of JatP, except this time you weren’t a dancer, but a recurring character - Delilah Alarie, a 17 year old girl who can hear ghosts, but can’t see them, and forms an unlikely relationship with everyone’s favorite bassist in a ghost band. This is where the problem comes in.

When you and Owen started dating back in 2019, you two decided to keep it on the DL because you both weren’t totally sure where it was going to go. At the time you were both so busy: Owen having his first acting job as an adult so he was getting used to the long hours, and you working what felt like 25/8 to get all the dance routines down pat. So you both just...didn’t tell anyone. That’s not to say people weren’t suspicious. Charlie was present at many movie nights and Tori liked to tease you about you how you’d spend your time between takes staring at the blond drummer and his fidgeting fingers.

Filming wrapped and you planned to announce your relationship at the wrap party, but a certain 19 year old thought it would be smart to get a little wasted and passed out before you could say “hey, we’re dating.” Then, you all went your separate ways and you and Owen didn’t see the need to inform everyone of the relationship, especially because you had to figure out the whole long-distance thing.

Then Covid hit. And there really wasn’t a need because you both were fighting so hard to not get insecure and worried about the hundreds of miles between you two. But you got through it. Between many facetime calls, a spontaneous trip to Hawaii, and one memorable meet up at a halfway point between your two states, you were finally back in each other's arms after the last three months apart. Of course, it was on set, where everyone thinks you’re just friends.

So yeah, there’s a problem. Because you didn’t mean for the secret dating to go on for so long. Life just, happened, and now you two are constantly sneaking around your fellow castmates and trading secret kisses in each other’s trailers and having little rendezvous meetings in the apartment building’s pool after your roommates have fallen asleep. You’re sure Savannah and Tori have heard you sneaking out a few times, but they wisely say nothing. Charlie sleeps like the dead so your certain Owen is in the clear.

It’s not like you two want to keep it a secret. Of course you want to tell your friends, it's just, since it’s gone on for so long you’re scared of what could happen. If they’ll get mad about the sneaking around and the lying.

But alas, you knew the day when the secret would slip out would come. And today just happened to be that day.

Your friends were already starting to get suspicious, you and Owen were starting to lose your subtlety with the sneaking around, and some fans don’t understand the term BOUNDARIES and caught you two outside the apartment building one day. You weren’t doing anything relationship-y, you two were just coming back from a short day on set because you both ended at the same time and were looking forward to some much needed alone time. But you both knew better than to hold hands or kiss in public, which you were glad for that rule when a few girls bombarded Owen when you both walked out of the parking garage to head inside. The girls posted about the interaction online and of course, assumptions were made about why you two were together. The cast brought it up, but you both shut it down. You really thought the secret would be exposed because someone would catch you two together...Owen is not good at keeping his hands to himself despite his own PDA rule.

But no, the secret came to a head because Owen is a big fat st0upid head and got jealous over his best friend.

It started as a normal day. You got up at the last possible minute, Savannah and Tori already eating breakfast in the kitchen, knowing better than to wake you up before your alarm. You ate, showered, changed into comfy clothes for the ride to work. Madi joined you and the other girls that day, now being a little older her dad trusted her to be alone with the older cast members and alone on set for a little while. You jammed out to Doja Cat and HSM because “range, Y/N, range.” Then you arrived on set to Kenny calling you and Madi over for an impromptu meeting before any of you could reach hair and makeup.

“Alright, now that the rest of you guys are here, I have an announcement to make.” You looked around to see that it was just the main four and you, and that’s when trepidation hit. The only scene you knew of today that involved you five was when the boys finally became visible to you, and you and Reggie share a moment. It’s a hug, much like the one Julie and Luke shared in the season one finale. But Kenny had come up to you a few days ago, suggesting adding a little something something. He told you he wasn’t sure yet, had to run it by a few execs, but that Jeremy was okay with it and he wanted to make sure you’d be okay with it too. You had said yes, after all Jeremy was the one married so you were really only worried about how he and Carolynn would feel about the kiss, you didn’t even think about Owen.

That was a mistake.

“So, I ran it by a few execs and of course, our own Delilah and Reggie, and have decided that after their big hug moment, a little kiss would really make the scene and ma -”

“Uh I think not.” It was muttered, but everyone heard it. And everyone froze, Kenny stopping mid sentence to look at the culprit. Owen was looking at his hands, completely oblivious to everyone staring at him. He didn’t even realize he’d said it aloud until Jeremy cut the tension with a little forced chuckle.

“C’mon Owen there’s enough of me to go around.” Everyone chuckled a bit, but Owen froze in his fidgeting, his face going firetruck red and eyes darting over to you.

“Shit. Fuck I said that aloud didn’t I?” He groaned, putting his face in his hands and, before you could stop yourself, you walked up to him.

“Hey. Hey c’mon.” You gently wrapped your hands around his wrists and pulled his hands away from his face. “It’s okay.” You expected him to look stressed. Based on his tone of voice you were preparing for a minor panic attack. But when you saw his face, all you saw was anger. It shocked you, causing you to stumble back a bit.

“You knew about this?” And okay, yeah, you also expected a bit of that. But not to this caliber.

“Owen I -”

“No. No you knew and didn’t tell me? Didn’t think to mention that you’d be kissing one of my best friends? What the hell Y/N?” You flinched, not used to Owen being this angry and loud.

“Owen, buddy, hey. Let’s just -” Charlie started, trying to diffuse the situation having noticed you flinching.

“No! This isn’t a ‘calm down’ thing. This is a “my girlfriend lied to me” thing and I’m very upset about it!” And whoop...there it is.

“Owen...”

“God just, really Y/N?” Then he walks away, leaving you surrounded by your confused friends. It’s silent for a few seconds, everyone taking in what just happened.

“Um...I know this probably a really bad time to bring this up but uh...y’all owe me twenty bucks each,” Charlie said. Then everyone started talking at one. Kenny apologizing for not knowing, Madi berating Charlie for the bad timing, Charlie firing back that Owen is just being dramatic, and Jeremy consoling you with Kenny. His hand on your back jump starts you into action. You quickly excuse yourself to make your way to Owen’s trailer, knowing that’s probably where he stormed off too.

You don’t knock when you get there, just walk in, making sure to lock it behind you. Owen is there on the couch, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

“Owen Joyner what the hell was that?” That’s not what you had wanted to say. You were going to be nice and ease into it. But he yelled first and now you're anxious and stressed and upset. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, eyes red and glassy with unshed tears.

“I’m sorry. I - Y/N I didn’t mean to freak. I realized halfway here that was not the way to go. I’m so -” You cut him off by pushing him back and crawling into his lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay I should’ve - I shouldn’t’ve just yelled and I definitely should have told you when Kenny proposed the idea I just got so caught up in the fact it’d be my first on screen kiss and it’d be with a married man who’s in quite possibly the cutest relationship ever and I was worried about -”

“You’re rambling babe,” Owen says with a smile. It’s a soft thing, one that makes your insides all mushy and your heart starts beating a little faster. “It’s okay. I mean, I would’ve liked to have found out earlier and not in front of our friends - oh my God! I just completely exposed us didn’t I? Oh God!” He whimpers out a whine and leans his head forward onto your shoulder. You giggle at the blonde beneath you, running your hands through his hair as he pinches your sides for the laugh.

“Babe, I’m pretty sure they already knew.” Owen whips his head up at that, eyebrows furrowed.

“Charlie mentioned everyone owes him twenty so, i’m pretty sure they were betting on when we’d tell them.” Owen groans and grumbles at that, throwing his head back in a dramatic way to convey his fake frustration. He brings his head back center and smiles softly again at you.

“I will make sure to steal it from him tonight. That’s our money babe.” You giggle into the kiss he places onto your lips. You two sit there for a few more minutes, exchanging kisses and trading affirmations of love. After a final kiss, one that’s full of passion and heat, you decide to head back to set.

You walk into the stage with the studio hand-in-hand, smiles on your faces. Madi squeals when she sees you both, running over to hug you.

“Yay yay! I knew you’d work it out and now I have another couple to fangirl over. Yay!” You hug the small girl back before she bounces over to give Owen the same treatment.

“Congrats bro,” Charlie says with a smile, clapping a hand on Owen’s back and ruffling your hair up. Jeremy smiles at you two, hugging you both as well.

“Congrats you two, now can we get back to the meeting? You two dating is old news. Like, 2019 old. But congrats on finally announcing it!” You look at Kenny in shock for a second, before bursting out into laughter, everyone around you following suit. Owen squeezes your hand three times and you look back over at him. You both shoot each other a small smile.

It’s gonna be okay.

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner imagine #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner fanfiction #owen joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner imagine #owen patrick joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x y/n #owen patrick joyner fanfiction #jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp fanfiction #jatp imagine #jatp x reader

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ramp-it-up · 4 years ago

Text

Dammit, Rafa!

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 4.6 K

Warnings: Minors DNI, Very light BDSM, a lil bit of Dom! Rafa and a lot of Sub! Rafa, Rocky Horror Picture Show live Shadow Cast, Oral sex (m, f receiving), slight breeding kink if you blink. drug use (just say no), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it).

A/N: This is a combination of an ask from @theatrenerd86 and a lovely anon as seen below. I JUST really read your ask and I think I changed it a little bit. I was so excited for the concept. I hope this is okay. 🥴

Rafael Santiago Casal was stressed out.

You had just the thing.

As soon as you were able to get him out of the bedroom and on the couch after his jetlag, you presented him with the opportunity to make good on the bet he lost at the last friends-who-are family get together.

He’d talked enough shit that night about how many shots he could do and how many you could tolerate. You decided to shut him up with a friendly wager.

Just before he passed out at the kitchen bar, he’d grunted, “Holy shit, she’s gonna fuck me good.”

Rafa was not necessarily talking about sex, he was talking about how you would make him pay up.

And he was right. He’d have to pay.

Now, three months later, the time had come.

Rafael had worked hard shooting a film out of town for 6 weeks, serving as both actor and director, and he was still coming down from the stress and responsibility.

It had been three days since he’d been home and he was still wound up, even after sleeping almost 18 hours straight and you letting him use you at his will for sex.

The sacrifices you made for your man.

Rafa’s current situation: you holding up gold lamé boxers in front of his face.

“FUCK No!” He wasn’t having it.

“Unless you are paying me my SAG rate or above, I’m not wearing that shit.”

He crossed his arms, stubborn as hell. And making you wet as you stared at the veins popping out. They did something to you, but you were determined.

“You lost the bet, Cash. You gotta keep up your end.”

Rafael had The Rocky Horror Picture Show memorized, as many times you’d made him watch it on video, but surprisingly he’d never been to a Shadow Cast.

“You know, growing up in Berkeley, I thought you’d have been to a show before.”

He rolled his eyes at you.

“I wasn’t THAT kind of Berkeley kid. I was too busy being slinging dope. I didn’t have time to play dress up and see a movie.”

“Hmmmm. Such the attitude.”

Rafa rolled his eyes again. You nodded and took note. Then continued on your mission.

You turned around and picked up a tweed blazer.

“Okay. If you don’t want to go as Rocky, you can go as Brad and wear a t-shirt, this jacket, and your glasses.”

Rafa considered it for a minute,

“That’s what I’m talking about! That’s shit I wear on the regular. You trying to have me ass out here in these streets….”

He grumbled as he took the jacket and you made a face. Your plan was working perfectly. Rafa as Brad would be hot as fuck. But this attitude....

Rafa leaned back, his arms spread out on the back of the couch. Those damn grey sweatpants. He was doing all of this on purpose.

“What’re you wearing to the show ?” His eyebrow was cocked at you.

You could clearly see his dick print, and the way he pushed his crotch up at you made you think he knew that very well.

The fact that all of your holes were well used and slightly sore from his homecoming did not make you any less wet at this moment.

“Well… I have options too.”

You looked at each other and grinned. It was time for a fashion show.

First, you came out in a yellow belted shirtwaist dress and white cardigan completed with some black Mary Jane heels and paraded in front of him on the couch.

“Janet! ”

You called back, “Brad!” as he watched you closely.

It seemed as if your nipples were pointing at him through the cotton material of the dress and he saw the jiggle of his dreams as you turned around.

“You wearing any underwear under that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You looked coyly at him over your shoulder as you went back into the bedroom.

Next was a little french maid outfit. Magenta.

“Hot damn!”

Rafael’s eyes were round and his mouth was open.

“I-I like it. I like it a lot.”

He was palming his new erection through his pants.

Your outfit was skimpy and not at all functional if you were actually going to clean the house.

You approached him and started feather dusting his shoulders, then his head.

He ducked and tried to grab your hand to keep from messing up his hair and you twirled away, then came back and started dusting the boner in his lap.

He just sat there, looked up at you with those sea-blue eyes of his which then swept down your body. You brought the feather duster up to his neck and tickled him there.

Rafa grabbed the duster with his left hand and as you tugged back, he pulled harder, which landed you across his lap.

“Well, what do we have here?”

He rubbed your ass for a second before pulling back and giving you a stinging, and stimulating slap.

You weren’t about to get caught up, so you managed to wriggle away and stand in front of him.

Rafa was confident that he had you wet and dripping for him, which was true, and that he was in control, which was false.

He didn’t try to chase you, just put his hands on the back of the couch and pushed his crotch up at you again.

You had something for him.

You sat down beside him and reached into the pocket of the apron on your maid’s costume and held the items up for his inspection. He rolled his eyes.

“Look what I found when I was getting laundry out of your suitcase.”

Rafa shifted his confident posture on the couch. His eyes were wide, but he did not say a word as he glanced at what was in your hand and then away.

“What did you expect while I was 1200 hundred miles away?”

You put the intimate polaroids of you, and a couple of him inside you, on the coffee table.

“The agreement was that you (and I) would get off to each other, on facetime, or on the phone, or, a couple of times via text. Which we did, almost every night.”

You sat beside him and looked him in the eye.

“You weren’t supposed to do it without me.”

Rafa tried to lean over and kiss you, but you dodged his lips. Rafa sighed.

“But I didn’t do it without you, Love. Those are pictures of you, of us. I can’t get enough of you baby. I only used them a couple of times a week.”

You were getting heated. A plan formulated in your mind.

“12 times, Rafa? I can’t believe you.”

“Forgive me? You drive me crazy. I had to have you and those polaroids helped. A little.”

This time you allowed Rafa to kiss your neck, and you let him wrap his arm around you and draw you into his lap. You could feel his cock brush against you under his sweats.

He was sucking marks into the skin of your neck and cleavage, and when he hooked his fingers into the top of the costume and pulled it down, letting your breasts spill out, you allowed it.

He sucked your nipples into his mouth roughly and those eyes looked up at you as you squirmed on him, trying to get friction on his bulge.

Rafa’s hands were firmly around your waist, long fingers rubbing your mid section, seductively soothing you.

But he wasn’t getting away with it.

You watched him watch you as he sucked, tongued, and bit your nipples, until you decided to not fall for his antics.

You leaned over and kissed him, your tongue establishing dominance in his mouth while you pulled his hair, making his head lean back on the couch.

You leaned over and whispered in his ear before biting his lobe. He shivered.

“I’ve let you have your way since you’ve been back. But it’s time out for all that now. You’ve done it now.”

Rafa’s whimper as you scraped your teeth down his throat was everything.

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself, or fun, until the Shadow Cast. You’ve got to make up for this.”

The show was a week away.

Fuck that, Rafa thought.

Rafael dared to talk back.

“How would you know if I touched myself?”

You just raised your eyebrows and stared at him, watching his neck get red.

“You want to go another week after that without sex?”

You could tell that Rafa was debating which way to go. But you could sense what he wanted.

What he needed.

Most of the time, Rafael was in charge.

He’d taken careful steps to ensure that he would never have to go back to slinging dope on the corner. He liked having control.

Even when it came to business with Diggs, Rafa was always the more aggressive. It’s what got him this far to begin with. Not backing down. Being the director.

But nothing could compare to you, especially when you took control.

Rafa pulled you to him and you allowed it as he wrapped his arms around you.

He sighed into your neck as he kissed it.

“I won’t touch myself. I swear.”

“Good boy. In just seven days, I can make you a man.”

*****************************************************************************************************

For the next week, Rafa took quick, lukewarm showers, stopping himself from touching himself for relief.

At night in bed, he stopped himself from palming his hard on at night when laying next to you. The fact that you still insisted on cuddling with him drove him mad, but not too mad to disobey.

You gave yourself cold showers, because in the mornings, when you’d come together in sleep, you wanted to jump on his rock hardness so bad, but you convinced yourself it would be worth it.

It was a hard week. Then Friday came and anticipation was in the air.

During the entire day, Rafael was impatient, yet restrained. As he got ready for the show that night, he listened to you rattle off the rules of interactive Rocky Horror from inside the closet.

“Okay, Here are the Rules:

1. Whenever Brad comes on screen, you MUST yell, ‘Asshole!’”

Rafa interrupted you. “Wait, I’m dressed up like an asshole?”

“Well, yeah. You’ve seen Rocky before. Brad’s an asshole, Rafa. A cute asshole, but an asshole none the less.” You continued with the rules.

“2. This is before slut shaming was considered a no-no, so, whenever Janet comes on the screen, you gotta yell Slut!”

Rafa shook his head as he put on his glasses, making sure he was nerdy fly while you informed him of the rest of the call-outs.

“And Rule #69:

You MUST do the Time Warp.”

“I don’t dance. When sober.”

You came out of the closet, corset tight, heels high, Afro big, makeup frightening, dressed as Dr. Frank N Furter.

Rafa only stopped and stared. “Goddamn.”

You spun around to give him a look see before you put on your leather jacket.

You showed him a flask full of Jameson’s.

“I think you’ll dance tonight.”

“But what about the horizontal mambo?”

Rafa was all hands as he tried to get you to move your hips. You batted them away.

“Be a good boy. It will go better for you later.”

Rafa nodded and stepped back, his hands in his pockets. He wanted to touch you so badly.

As you moved to leave, you handed him a heavy bag full of all the necessary supplies.

“What the hell is all this shit?”

You looked up, trying to remember:

“Let’s see: Bubbles, because you can’t bring rice, water guns, newspaper, noise makers, rubber gloves…”

Rafa’s eyes got big at that one.

…”Toilet paper, cards…” you rifled through the bag.

“Shit!”

You ran in the kitchen and grabbed some bread, shoving pieces in the toaster. You winked at him as you waited for it to pop up.

“Can’t forget the toast,” you grinned into amused cerulean eyes.

“I have clearly missed out on life during my formative years instead of hanging out with the nerds and Rocky.”

“You have, indeed.”

Rafa almost turned back as you headed to the car and said, “And you’re a virgin tonight, so act accordingly.”

He soon found out what that meant, when crowded in the theater with various wonderful Rocky Horror freaks and geeks, they called virgins up to the stage to be sacrificed.

Since you were whooping and pointing at him Rafa couldn’t hide, so he went up to meet his doom.

You snacked on your popcorn as the emcee “humiliated” Rafa by making him sing “Sweet Transvestite” because he’d played it safe by dressing as Brad.

It turned out not to be so humiliating, because Rafa’s voice is dope and he knew the words; he really got into it.

You could tell that Rafa was having a ball when he came back to his seat.

*************************************************

You and he called out, hid under your newspapers in the rain, slut shamed Janet and most importantly, did the time warp on stage in front of the screen.

It was a real scene.

You drank the rest of your whiskey and Rafa lit a blunt on the way home.

You put your feet out of the window so that Rafa could have a good view of your legs.

He caressed his hand up and down them, the fishnet texture feeling good under his palms.

“What do you think about Frank and Brad.” The weed was making you philosophical.

Rafa side eyed you as he drove.

“What? You mean me and you?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

He chuckled, looking damn sexy driving with one arm.

“I think the whole film is avant-garde. Especially for 1975, it’s about queerness, conformity, and dictatorship. And of course free will.”

Rafa looked over and winked.

You took another toke and nodded.

“I love that Brad was a bottom in that shadow scene with Frank. So fucking hot.”

You traced your fingers across your cleavage. Rafa had to concentrate to keep his eyes on the road.

“Of course, I’m also thinking about how Rocky was bound up when we first see him.

A little BDSM, don’t you think?”

You watched Rafael’s profile as he drove.

“And Frank was the one who did it to him. He seemed to worship the darling doc. Until, you know.”

Rafa squirmed and cleared his throat.

“He sure did.”

You smirked as you French inhaled.

*************************************************

You get back home, tipsy and a little high, but still in command of what you wanted to do.

You went straight to the bedroom as Rafa got two bottles of water to bring with.

As soon as he entered the bedroom, you began.

“Strip,” you commanded.

“I beg your pardon?”

Rafa smirked at you as he put the bottles down on the dresser.

He was trying it.

“I’m in charge now,” you raised your chin. “Got it?”

His eyes changed and he nodded eagerly, smirk turning into a placating smile.

He was probably more eager than he wanted to show, which made you swell with pride.

“So.” You waved your hand at him. “Strip.”

You did the same, stepping out of the heels and rolling down your fishnet stockings.

Rafa took off his jacket, and reached up to take off the glasses.

“Leave those on.”

Smiling again, he left the glasses on as he carefully took off his shirt, then unbuttoned his pants as his hard on was getting bigger.

He stood before you in his boxer briefs as you unsnapped the corset and threw it across the room.

You just raised your eyebrows and crossed your arms, foot starting to tap, and he quickly moved to take his boxers off.

His cock was stiff against his stomach now, making your mouth water.

“Get on the bed, face up.”

Rafael did as he was told, and trembled as you ran your hand up his leg brushing his cock, up his abs, to his chest, face and hair.

He reached for you and you moved away.

“What we’re not gonna do, is any of that unauthorized touching. It’s no way to behave on your first day out. But since you are such an exceptional beauty, I’m prepared to forgive you.”

You went over to your bedside table and brought out the red nylon rope and watched as Rafa shuddered.

“Assume the position.”

He obediently put his hands up toward the headboard, and didn’t move as you swung your leg over his torso and secured him to a couple of the posts.

He kept his eyes down, staring at your crotch the entire time as you used the knots he taught you to make.

“Such a good boy for me. See, there’s no crime in giving yourself over to pleasure.”

“Yes Ma’am. No Ma’am.”

You became wet as Rafa smiled up at you. You rewarded him with a kiss and a small cuddle. Then you got down to business.

You scooted backwards down his body and stared at his erection.

“What should I do to you? Want me to suck your cock? Would you like that?”

"Yes ma’am please.” You loved to hear him beg.

“C-can you do it reverse cowgirl style? So that I can see your ass?”

Rafa looked desperate, but even though the thought of what he’d suggested made your pussy clench. You knew what he was trying to do.

“Are you trying to get me to sit on your face, Rafael?”

He nodded vigorously, hair flopping across his forehead.

“I want to give you pleasure ma’am. Want to breathe you, feel you drip on my lips and drink you. Want you to ride my face until you cum.”

He was using his soft voice, but it was oh so sexy. Fuck, he was using his words to make your clit swell and pulse.

And he knew it too. You saw the glint in his eyes.

“You’re trying to take control back, aren’t you, Rafael?”

He blinked, and his eyes blanked again. He gulped, and this time, he shook his head.

“No ma’am.” He insisted, “Only if you let me.”

You stared at him a while as you took his cock in your hands and started pumping, rubbing the palm of your hand across his fat mushroom tip.

You loved how he was struggling to keep his eyes open and the grunts that were coming from his throat.

“I guess you have been reasonably good so far. But you still have to follow orders.”

You shifted around and straddled his chest, reaching back to finally take his glasses off. All he could do was stare at you.

“I’m all yours, ma’am. Your ass is perfect. Served up for me like this.”

The yearning in his voice was unmistakable.

“Such a good, good boy”

Your thumb flicked over the tip of his dick.

“Promise I’ll always be a good boy.”

You used your hands on him again, your strokes fast and firm enough that he was nearly on the edge but not quite there. You felt powerful.

Slowly, you shuffled back, moving your ass toward his face. And your face towards his cock.

Kitten licks on his tip had him squirming on the bed, his hands now gripping the ropes which tied him fast to the headboard.

“Ma’am, please. Please….please.”

He begged and moaned against your cunt, moving his head and dramatically sweeping his tongue up your slit, making you drip and spasm.

“Rafael! Your mouth....So, so good...” You groaned.

Your praise only caused his cock to become harder. Seeing that, you pushed yourself down more firmly on his face.

Rafa moaned into your pussy causing you to almost tip over.

“So, so good Rafa.”

You raised yourself up, bracing on his thighs, yours tightening around his face. You were determined to finish the job.

“Tell me what you want and maybe I’ll give it to you.” Your voice was deceptively sweet.

He sucked at your clit for a little while longer before he pulled his face away long enough to respond. He watched your pussy quiver as he spoke.

”I want to cum. Please ma’am, I need to cum.”

“Hmmmmm. No.”

Your lips were a hairs’ breadth away from his tip. He groaned, and dove back into your pussy.

“And if you even think of cumming before I say so, you’ll be severely punished.”

You could feel him sucking your clit more intensely, trying to get you to a point where you’d slip up.

But instead, you deep throated him until you reached his base and rested there for a moment. All the practice of taking his entire length was paying off in this moment.

You slowly started to bob on his dick and his attention to your core faltered as his head fell back to the bed.

“Shit…That feels so good. So fuckin’ good… Ma’am.”

Although you loved to hear his voice broken in ecstasy, the hand that was caressing his balls as you sucked him off tugged gently to remind him of his job.

Immediately his lips wrapped around your clit again.

When you felt his balls tighten, you pulled your mouth off of him, moving to kneel next to him on the bed.

“Huh...oh! Ma’am, please!”

“I thought you were mine to do with as I please?”

Your hands danced down your body, briefly cupping your tits and rolling your nipples.

Your lover looked as if he would die from want of touching you.

‘I am. I am. I just…’

“I just want to know, where do you want to cum? Cum in my mouth or in my wet pussy?”

You sat back on your knees and parted your thighs, so he can get another look at you.

“Definitely your pussy.”

You leaned over and smiled at him.

“We’ll see.”

You swung your leg over him and positioned yourself above the head of his stiff cock.

You swiped him up and down the length of your slit, and then slowly sunk down, taking it millimeters at a time.

Rafael groaned, knowing that he wanted to push himself up into you, and you felt him bend his knees to plant his feet to do just that.

“Dont. Move.”

Your voice was firm as you raked your fingernails down his torso, making sure to scrape his nipples as you went.

Rafa opened his eyes to see, and his mouth to gasp, and you rewarded him by sinking all the way down on him.

“Fuck ma’am. You feel so good, so tight, so fuckin’ wet.” You scraped his nipples again.

You smiled at his agony, keeping your eyes on him as he watched your body move.

You went faster, rocking your hips which caused your breasts to jiggle as you slid up and down his pole.

He groaned again, but nodded, eyes squeezing closed to shut out some stimulation.

But that was a no go.

“Open your eyes, Cash. Be good.”

Rafael just simply couldn’t think.

“But you feel so amazing...Ma’am. And you look too… fucking goooooddd. Shit.”

He could barely get it out, which only served to make you wetter. His eyes rolled back in his head, and he dropped it to the bed as you rose up on his length and then drove yourself back down on him.

“Open your eyes!”

He did, his eyes a dark blue now, and trained on you as you repeatedly slammed down on him, fucking him mercilessly.

"So fucking perfect. I wish I could just touch you…” He said breathlessly between grunts.

“It’s not your wish. It’s my command.”

You tried to look menacing and Rafael’s face convinced you that it worked. His eyes widened and he closed his mouth as your hips moved relentlessly.

He knew what you needed as well. His words.

“Thank you Ma’am. For letting me inside your tight, wet… ohhhh… I love you so fucking much.”

He was so sweet when he was needy.

“Love you, love this pussy…”

“Ohhh, Rafa. I love you too. It’s yours anytime you want. If you’re a good boy…”

“I am. I will be. I promise.” He looked into your eyes and you knew it was true.

“Is this dick mine? No one else’s? “

Rafael’s moaned deeply, licking his lips to taste you again.

“All… yours….It’s your’s,” he breathed.

“Good boy Fuck, Rafa!…”

Your Bay Boy was a mess, moaning and bucking his hips up inside you. You let him, knowing how desperate and needy he was. He was so beautiful.

You rocked your hips back and forth, bringing yourself oh so close to the edge.

Rafa’s hips pistoned up into you ferociously hitting the spot that made you moan loudly.

“Fuck, your cock feels so good,” you leaned down to whisper. “You wanna come? You wanna come inside me?”

You felt him shudder, you mustered all the strength you had to stop moving.

He pulled at the restraints, wanting to grab you and hold you fast, but he couldn't.

“So close, Ma’am. More...please. I need to cum.”

You shushed him, putting your finger on his pink lips and smiling down at him.

“I know, baby.”

And you started moving again. With purpose.

“Eyes on me.”

Rafa didn’t know where to focus, your face, your breasts, where you two were connected, the look on your face, the sensations.

There was no coherent thought in his head except what you were doing to him.

You felt him pulse within you and decided it was time as your clit shuddered with your impending orgasm.

“Cum for me Baby, cum inside me. Paint my walls.”

Rafa’s head snapped up and he growled.

“What did you say???”

“I said, come inside me. Fill me full of your cum. I want it all.”

“Holy fuck!”

Rafa’s eyes screwed closed and he pumped everything into you like you asked.

The feel of him swelling and releasing inside you triggered your own orgasm, but you still had a job to do.

You untied him while he was still spasming within you. You held him close as he came back to earth, lightly rubbing and kissing his marked wrists.

You kissed him and murmured, “Are you ok? As he smiled at you and kissed you back.

You handed him a bottle of water as he readjusted.

Rafa took a drink, turned to you and murmured, “You’re amazing you know that? Just what I needed.” And he kissed you again, hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

Happiness bloomed in your chest.

You lay in his arms and snuggled his neck while he moved his hands down your body. Then he pulled your hair to make you look at him.

“What do you need?”

Rafa’s eyes searched your face, because he always made sure he took care of you, no matter who had been dominant.

“Nothing. Just need you.”

“You got me, love.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead, and then moved to get out of bed.

“No. I have a better idea.” You smiled up at him mischievously.

“First one in the shower calls the shots.”

You got up from the bed, ready to sprint to the bathroom, only to be overtaken by Rafael, who picked you up and backed into the shower, so that he was the first one to enter.

You cast your eyes down as he turned on the water, waiting for his command.

***********

Tagging: @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @ivycomet @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @mysearchforgratification @curtainremote @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @delaber @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @einfachniemand @braidedchallah

#Rafael Casal #Rafa smut #rafael casal imagine #rafael casal x reader #rafael casal x black reader #rafael casal smut #rocky horror picture show #rocky horror #ask dj #sub!rafa

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jenomark · 4 years ago

Text

➔Summary: For many reasons, you haven’t had sex in a long time. Though you love yourself and your bigger body, you’re always aware that other people might not. After a bad night with someone who didn’t want to be seen in public with you, your best friend Ten offers to set you up with his friend Taeyong.

*This is very body positive, but it does deal with a lot of negative things that are very close to reality for most people. I tried to portray things as accurately as I can, given my own experiences. I know not everyone’s experience is like mine. It’s a very honest outlook on having a one-night-stand or FWB relationship while being a bigger girl.

Mr. No Name. He hit all the right notes and strokes. He was attractive and mildly interesting. More importantly, he said he didn’t care what you looked like, or that it had been awhile since you’d had sex. His clothes flew off mid-air, and you watched them land here and there. Mistakes never landed in one spot, you thought. They peppered your life like seasoning, and even so, life had been tasteless, as of late. You still found yourself craving the morsel that would poison you.

“Can you give me a moment?” you asked.

Nameless stretched across your bed like a God, his arms draped out in what he must have pretended was satin. IKEA might have felt honored. When he spoke, he told you to hurry back quickly. He said he didn’t have that much time, but you suspected he was the type to fuck and leave.

“Okay.” you said.

You left your bedroom, not really thinking that you’d just left a stranger to rummage through your personal belongings. You went into the bathroom and turned off all the lights. You didn’t want to look at your body stuffed into the lingerie you carefully picked out for the occasion. You didn’t want to know what he saw when he looked at you. You hated that you were that girl, but old habits die hard, or rather, they come back from the dead and pick you apart until you’re just bone.

Sex. It never mattered much to you. You would consume it when it came, just a notch above feeling grateful that someone would stick themselves inside of you. You didn’t know if it didn’t matter because it didn’t, or because you couldn’t fathom caring so much about someone that didn’t care for you back. It was easier to skip the hurt altogether and go straight for the parts where you ate the ice cream without the excuse.

“Get a grip.” you told yourself in the darkness.

It had been awhile since you’d had sex because, despite being happy in your own skin, you were still terrified of someone seeing you naked. It was hell to explain how fulfilled you felt as your own person until a man looked at you and diminished your worth by calling you the most unfuckable person in the room. It was so easy for someone to tear down years of hard work and self-reflection for a two second shame fest by a stranger in a passing car, yelling about your weight, or what you should and shouldn’t be eating. And, yes, you hated that you cared what people thought of you, even after all this time.

Enter: Mr. No Name. You called him that because he gave you an alias to call him by, and the fake name didn’t sit well with you. You wanted to ask him why he didn’t want you to know him, but deep down, you already knew. No one wants to be seen with the fat girl. You knew you were completely right when you asked him for coffee, and he looked as if you’d asked him to march around town with a parade float tied to his leg. Not everyone would look at the straight-sized man and the plus-sized girl and think negatively, but there would always be people who were still looking. Maybe you didn’t want to be seen as much as he didn’t want to be seen. Maybe you were also the problem.

Still, you were horny and touch starved. After all, all you wanted from him was sex. That was the agreement. And you loathed yourself for briefly wanting more, for looking at him and his desire for you, and thinking that it could extend beyond the bedroom. Silly you for wanting what some people had. You had to forgive your own poor self-esteem and hope that others would, too.

When you went back to your bedroom, he had passed out on your pillow. He was hugging the other one, his naked body smooth against the fabric. In his sleep, the prospect of him didn’t seem as scary as you thought. You wouldn’t hold it against him. You woke him and told him to put his clothes back on.

“So what?” he said. “Things don’t work out. It wasn’t meant to be.”

You looked over at Ten and felt that he was completely missing the point. It was your fault. You were never honest about how you felt because you didn’t want to bring attention to it. He knew your lingering insecurities as well as anyone, but there were things he could never truly understand. Last thing you wanted was for someone to pity you, or worse, think you’re just making it all up in your head.

“I want sex,” you said. “I think I’m drying up down there.”

“Dating apps.” Ten said, as if his genius idea would save you.

“Absolutely not.”

“You have to start somewhere.”

“I’m not a fetish,” you said. “Dating apps make me realize why I don’t date in the first place.”

“If you wait for things to happen organically, you might miss out,” Ten said. “Do people still do newspaper ads?”

“Are newspapers even a thing?” you asked.

You and Ten looked at each other and shrugged. There were so many things you understood about each other. You sat down and wiped sweat from your forehead. You were supposed to be cleaning your apartment. There was something about deep cleaning that soothed you. And Ten was supposed to be helping, but he was sipping his hot tea and playing around on his phone.

“Can I be honest with you?” you asked.

It felt like now or never. He didn’t need to know everything, just a little bit where you were coming from. There were sirens going off in your head telling you not to say anything to him. Your big mouth couldn’t stop once you were dead set on something.

“Always,” he said, putting his phone down. “Is this about the date?”

You nodded. “It’s about me, too. I’m..I don’t love the body I’m in..sometimes..other times, I love her. She gets me from point A to B. She makes me feel sexy. Forget what makes you healthy and what doesn’t. I don’t listen to anyone else but my doctor. All I know is that I love myself, from my ridiculous long second toe, to my double chin. All of it. And I think that scares people away, and I think I let them scare me away, too.”

“Was he that bad?” he asked.

“He didn’t want to be seen with me. Before we entered my apartment, he asked if anyone knew he was there,” you said. “ I would have cried if I was any other person. You know, I’m not even mad that he was like that. At this point, I expect that more than I don’t. I’m mad that, for one moment in time, I really expected him to be different. He kept saying how much he loved my body, and I didn’t get fetish feelings from him. I thought, “Wow, he could really be the one. He could be the fuck buddy of a lifetime.” Despite fucking it up in so many other ways, he made me feel like a person. I felt wanted.”

“He sounds like a dick.” Ten said.

Slowly, you nodded in agreement. At the same time, you and Ten sipped your drinks, lost in thought.

Then, as if he remembered something important, Ten tilted his head and said, “I know a man.”

“That’s great,” you said, dryly. “I know a lot of men, too.”

‘“No,” he said, slapping the table. “I have a friend.”

You raised your eyebrows. You thought about being sarcastic, but Ten wasn’t paying attention. It was no fun if he didn’t play back. He was excited by his own thought process, the wheels in his head spinning.

“You just want sex!” he said.

“Correct.”

“With someone who will be seen with you in public,” he continued. “So they don’t kill your lady boner. I know a friend who will do that for you.”

“No.” you said, flatly.

“Why not?”

“I’m not a charity case,” you said. “I don’t want a man to fuck me just because he feels bad.”

“This guy isn’t like that.”

You wanted to say that all guys were like that, but that way of thinking didn’t help anyone. It wasn’t true. You knew there were men out there who were what you wanted, you just didn’t know why they were halfway around the world. You thought of Ten’s friends, which were also your friends, by default.

“Which friend?” you asked. “All of them are with someone. Besides, I wouldn’t have sex with any of them. It would be too weird.”

“You don’t know him.”

“But I know all of your friends.”

“Not this one,” Ten said. “He’s in my art class. You’ll love him. Come to Saturday’s class. I’ll introduce you.”

They say fat girls shouldn’t wear overalls. You looked at your tummy in the reflection of a car and pressed your hands against it. Your thighs looked like they were bulging in the little shorts. You shook your head to rid yourself of the thought demons that tried to make you think you were anything less than sexy. Whenever it came to the opinion of men, unfortunately, they liked to show up and rear their ugly heads. You looked adorable in your overalls, and you’d look smokin’ hot out of them.

You weren’t good at art, so you didn’t know how to dress up, or how to behave. You showed up and stood by a bunch of people smoking cigarettes and gossiping. You thought the atmosphere would be more like the movies, and you thanked yourself you didn’t show up in some ridiculous scarf and a beret.

“You’re earlier than I am,” Ten said, hugging you from behind. “That’s not something I can get used to. You look like an art ho.”

“What is an art ho?” you asked.

Self-consciously, your eyes started going towards your reflection. Ten took your arm and led you inside, past the smokers, and right through a door into a cool and brightly lit studio. Ten came every week, and you could see why. The place had a cheery vibe, and everyone around you was smiling and sitting down at an easel. There was food in the corner of the room and all of these prints on the wall that you could look at for hours.

“So,” you said, sitting down. “We just...paint things?”

“Yes, “Ten said. “We get a theme for the day. No rules. No stress or worries. It doesn’t matter what it looks like. All that matters is that you have fun.”

“That’s easy for you to say, you’re a great artist.”

Ten blushed. “I try my best.”

Taking your place and watching everyone slowly trickle into the class, you noticed how attractive everyone was. You didn’t know what Ten’s friend looked like. You didn’t even know his name. You imagined him in your head, building him up like a clay figure. He had eyes and a nose, he was tall and resembled a beautiful marble statue. You looked around the room and realized there were mostly couples, their eyes finding each other wherever they went. Your eyes kept swimming around the room, too, even as the class began. And that’s when you saw him.

“Whoa.” you said underneath your breath.

He was beautiful. He was tall, like you imagined. So much of his broad shouldered body peeked out from behind his easel. He had black hair, which he swept back from his forehead. He had a smile permanently fixed to his face, and the warmest brown eyes you had ever seen. You physically gulped before nudging Ten.

“Who is that?” you asked.

Ten smirked. “That’s Johnny. All the girls love him.”

You were all the girls. You couldn’t stop staring at him. You wondered if painting him would be too creepy. As class began, you tried focusing on the project at hand, but your eyes kept going back to him.

“I need to get laid, “ you whispered. “I need to get laid so badly.”

“Will you relax,” Ten whispered back. “I don’t need you climaxing in front of my class. I think that’s frowned upon.”

You forgot about Johnny as best as you could and painted the sexiest fruit bowl of your life. You were proud, tired, and most of all, itching at the chance to talk to Johnny. You were thankful for Ten in that moment, so thankful that you could have kissed him. But, your attention was not on Ten. You were thinking about Johnny’s big body slamming you down onto your bed and fucking the still life out of you.

“I want you to meet him now.” Ten said.

You stood fast, your knee knocking into the easel. Several people looked your way because of the loud noise. You waved and tried to shake off the embarrassment. Johnny stood too, his face a model of perfection. He was so happy that it was infectious.

“He’s a little too attractive.” you said.

“Johnny?” Ten asked. “I guess so.”

Ten ushered you forward. As you were getting ready to extend your hand out to Johnny, Ten kept pushing until you were in front of the easel at the end. A man stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans.

“Hello, “ he said. “I’m Taeyong.”

You were speechless. You cursed yourself for automatically thinking it was Johnny. The look on your face must have said it all, because Ten needed to cover for you. He told Taeyong your name after fixing you with the longest side-eye in human history.

“Taeyong,” you said. “Right. I’m sorry. I’m just...so..in love with your painting.”

You looked at his painting. It was chaotic. The fruit were different colors and they were all smashed, the seeds ripped out, and the juices flowing. He had more paint on his hands and arms than what was on the canvas.

“This?” he asked. “Thank you. Painting gives me energy.”

Ten put his hand on your shoulder and said he was going to clean up his station. You couldn’t recover from the initial embarrassment, so you offered to go help him.

“It’s okay if you don’t like what you see,” Taeyong said. “I understand.”

Ten gave you one last “I will fuck you up if you ruin this for yourself” glance before disappearing. Everything in you felt apologetic towards Taeyong. It wasn’t even about him.

“It’s not you.” you said.

Taeyong laughed. “That’s usually how the saying goes.”

“No!” you said. “Really, it’s not you. You’re wonderful.”

And you meant it. Though he was different from Johnny and different from what you expected, Taeyong was very handsome. In your mind, you didn’t judge the way he looked because you didn’t want him to do the same to you. You knew how it felt too well, which is why it hurt you that he was feeling that way.

“Can I be honest?” you said. “I think I fucked this up. Ten didn’t tell me anything about you, and I thought you were someone else.”

“Ahh,” Taeyong said. “Imagine the disappointment.”

You could feel yourself growing dizzy. You took a seat in the chair next to Taeyong. When you stood, you were a little taller than him. When you sat, your body felt massive in front of his smaller frame. You looked into his face, into his eyes which didn’t look as upset as they should have been.

“I’m an idiot,” you said. “All these years wanting people to censor themselves for me, and I end up doing it to someone else. Can we start over?”

Taeyong sat. He placed his hands between his thighs and nodded. The way he moved was so cute that you couldn’t help but smile.

“Taeyong,” you said. “Would you like to come home with me?”

“Y-e-eesss.” he said, drawing the world out cutely.

You found yourself back in your bedroom, in a role that seemed too familiar. You were starting to feel scared that Taeyong only came back because of some fat fetish. He had been seen with you in public, had even reached for your hand on the walk back to your apartment, but fear had a way of resurfacing in intimate spaces.

“This is nice,” Taeyong said, gesturing up at the painting above your bed. “I draw on my walls, but this is much more sophisticated.”

You couldn’t seem to talk. Your mouth was dry. You asked him if he wanted a drink so that you could have one to loosen up. He said he didn’t drink much because his neck got all splotchy and red. You skipped the drink and disappeared into the bathroom, like a coward.

“We’re here again,” you said to yourself. “Just fuck him al-”

There was a knock at the bathroom door. You turned on the lights and opened it slowly to see Taeyong standing there.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m good.”

“It’s just that,” he said. “You’re talking to yourself. I talk to myself sometimes, too. Do you want to do this another time?”

He looked so sweet that something in you just toppled over the edge. You didn’t say no. You didn’t say yes. You crossed the threshold and kissed him, grabbing the back of his head. The kiss itself was so soft and tame that you kept trying to make it more aggressive. Taeyong released his lips from yours and rubbed his mouth. He laughed nervously and looked down at the floor. His lips were red and swollen, his eyes more lustful than before when he finally looked back up at you. He stepped forward and kissed you, pressing his body up against yours. Normally, feeling someone's tummy against yours would make you retreat, but you were so lost in the moment that you didn’t notice.

“Bedroom?” Taeyong asked.

“Yes.”

It was Taeyong who guided you to your own bedroom. Your eyes went straight to the painting above your bed. There was a new appreciation for it. When you looked back to Taeyong, he was looking at you like he was looking at art: admiring, questioning.

“You’re nervous,” he asked. “Why?”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone.” you said.

You and Taeyong sat on the edge of your bed. You were itching to kiss him, but you felt that the questions on the tip of his tongue would get in the way.

“Being nervous is okay,” he said. “But I want you to know that I’ll take my time and make it enjoyable for you.”

He leaned in to kiss you, his hand pushing your hair out of the way so that he could rest it on your cheek. Your hand was on his thigh. Things started escalating, like you were both trying to one-up the other. Taeyong’s hand was on your breast, trying to figure out the machinations of the overalls. You were rubbing his leg a little too much. He had to ask you to stop or he'd explode. You laid back on the bed and let him hover above your body. Your thighs felt extra jiggly when his hands caressed you. You felt yourself clamming up, and Taeyong sensed it and stopped.

“I’m not entirely comfortable with my body sometimes.” you admitted.

“Do you want to stop?” Taeyong asked. “We can watch movies or play board games?”

“Board games?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I like games.”

You wanted to laugh. Taeyong was much different from Mr. No Name. Being with him felt less like a performance. It was like you were being intimate with a friend, only intimacy looked a lot like awkwardness.

“I don’t want to stop,” you said. “Do you?”

“No.” Taeyong said.

He sloped down to kiss you. His hand continued moving up your thigh and into your shorts. Having someone's fingers inside of you after not having anything for so long felt like an epiphany. You moaned and stopped kissing Taeyong. Not because you wanted to stop exploring his mouth, but because you couldn’t contain your excitement. You opened your legs and let him finger you, his skinny and long fingers jerking in and out of you with zeal.

“Don’t stop,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

You came around his fingers quickly, your hand reaching out to grab his wrist. He delicately kissed the side of your neck, double chin and all. You took a minute to catch your breath, but Taeyong was all over you. He unhooked your overalls. He lifted up your shirt to reveal your stomach. Checking to see if it was okay with you first, he kissed your soft flesh. You moved further up the bed so that his face was down below. He helped you remove the outfit, and you finished it off, sitting up on your bed naked and fighting the urge to cover yourself.

“Don’t tell me I’m beautiful,” you said. “Don’t say anything at all about my body. Tell me about yours.”

Taeyong smiled in understanding. He yanked his shirt over his head and pointed at his scar. The pink jagged line was shiny. You yearned to place your lips against it.

“A scar,” he said. He brought his hands up his body, his ribs noticeable. Seductively, he brought his hand back down until his fingers caught on his zipper. It didn’t take much for Taeyong’s baggy pants to fall to the ground. He slipped off his briefs to reveal his soft cock. “Can I show you my body?”

“Yes.”

He was going to come to you, but you scooted to the edge of the bed. You didn’t love the way your body looked while you were sitting, but your attention was saved by Taeyong’s cock. You took over, working him in your hands, and watching as he came to life. You leaned down to suck him, enjoying how he whimpered from the warmth of your mouth. You stopped momentarily to kiss his scar before you were back at it, drawing him closer and closer. Before he could spill, you let him go and climbed back onto the bed on all fours, your ass facing him. The position was easiest for you. You didn’t have to look at men when they fucked you, your fat moving rabidly, and your mind wondering how distracted they were by your body. You waited for him to come to you and thrust his cock into you from behind, but Taeyong didn’t.

“I want you on top,” he said. “I want to see you.”

You watched Taeyong lay on your bed, his body just below the painting. He was relaxing in a bunch of pillows, and he was smiling. If you went on top of him, his small frame seemed like it would disappear underneath you. The thought of your thick thighs rubbing against him made you queasy. Yet, there was something so sexy about him wanting you that carried you forward. It was an interesting situation.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

Taeyong lifted his arms behind his head. “Ride me.”

You gripped his thighs and climbed on top of him. You were hyper aware of your body touching his. You lifted your ass up and tried to situate yourself. As you did, Taeyong’s hands were all over you. He poked and prodded you, smoothing his fingers over your skin and exploring everything there was to see and not see. At first, you froze in place. You had never had anyone feel your body like that, like a painter painting a canvas. You could feel his brush strokes as you closed your eyes, his fingers moving over your nipples, and the way he touched you when he went between your legs.

Lowering yourself down onto his cock, you had to slowly let him in. Every inch was felt, moving inside of you so intensely that every time you moved back up just a little, you wanted to lurch forward in pleasure. Taeyong held your waist and kept his hands there as you rocked over him slowly.

“I forgot how good this felt.” you said.

You hadn’t ridden someone since university. It was the second time ever, and the first time with someone you could actually see yourself liking. You tried pushing the L-word thoughts out of your head. You and Taeyong were only having sex, not dating.

“Faster.” Taeyong said, the words coming out of his mouth surprising him.

You rode him faster, trying not to think too hard about the way your body bounced, or how it looked. He touched you as you fucked him, his hands getting increasingly more desperate. The way he looked up at you made you feel bold. You pressed down on his chest and started fucking yourself on his cock with a new pace, your body slamming down on him hard. The sounds of your bodies slapping together was loud, and at one point, you slowed down because you were scared you were hurting him.

“No,” he moaned. “Keep going.”

You fucked him until you came, throwing your head back and riding the wave. Taeyong watched you with awe, even when you didn’t stop moving. You wanted him to come, wanted to finish him off the way he deserved.

“Give it to me,” you said, fucking him. “I want it, Taeyong. Come for me.”

You pushed your breasts against his chest and kissed him. The moan that broke free from his lips was loud and whiny. You kissed his neck and kept taking his cock until he came, his body stiffening before relaxing. You let him stay inside of you long after he had come, his fingertips drawing love hearts on your skin.

“I was thinking,” Taeyong said. “Tomorrow we should get that drink.”

#taeyong #lee taeyong #taeyong smut #lee taeyong smut #nct #nct smut #nct fanfiction #taeyong fanfiction #nct smut fanfiction #taeyong smut fanfiction #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct 127 smut fanfiction #johnny #ten #please forgive typos #as yet again I am editing things very late and my mind isn't as clear as it would be during the day #thank you!

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horansqueen · 4 years ago

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Stuck With You - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Me And My Broken Heart

🡪chapter 1 🡪chapter 2 🡪chapter 3 🡪chapter 4 🡪chapter 5 🡪chapter 6 🡪chapter 7 🡪chapter 8 🡪chapter 9 🡪chapter 10 🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

All I need is a little love in my life All I need is a little love in the dark A little but I'm hoping it might kick start Me and my broken heart I need a little loving tonight Hold me so I'm not falling apart A little but I'm hoping it might kick start Me and my broken heart

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PLEASE VOTE FOR ME, AM CONVERSATIONS, STUCK WITH YOU, NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOURS AND MY ONESHOT ON HERE!

DEVON

I watched Niall leave quickly and my heart sank in my chest. I didn't even know he was looking at us and I suddenly felt like shit. It's not that I cared much about Noah, and I had no intention to do anything with him, but he was talking to me and somehow, I felt like I needed more friends. It was rough these days between Niall and I, and I was not sure how to handle the situation. Lewis and Daxia were always together and didn't have much time to spend with a loser like me. As for Louis, I felt like he was hiding something from me. He was busy most nights and I thought maybe he had a new girlfriend and didn't want to tell me yet, either because he didn't want to jinx it, or because he thought I was too deep into my own pain.

I stared at the hall when Niall disappeared and blinked a few times, only getting back to reality when someone put their hand on my shoulder. I looked up at Noah who had his eyebrows raised as he bent down slightly closer to me.

"Are you alright?"

It took me a few seconds but I moved my gaze to meet his and sent him a small and sad smile. "Yea, I'm okay."

"Maybe you should check on him." he proposed, making me frown. I was not expecting him to be caring that way and he let out a chuckle. "Mandy told me you were both in love or something intense like that. I wasn't sure how true it was but I see it now. It's in your eyes." he added, in a lower tone, bending down more.

I was not going to admit to him that I was, in fact, totally in love with Niall. If I ever would admit that to someone, it would be to myself, first, and then to Niall, but the more I thought about it, the scarier it was getting. I couldn't admit it to anyone, the result was way too unpredictable.

"Thank you." I just replied, placing my hand on Noah's chest and sending him a small smile before quickly leaving without looking back.

I could feel my heart race in my chest and echo all over my body and I inhaled deeply before pushing on the door. I held my breath, hoping he was alone since I was clearly not supposed to get there, and the first thing that came to my mind was that it was probably the first time I walked into the men's loo of a bar. The neon lights were glitching and I was not sure about the neatness of the place but I immediately stopped thinking about it when I saw Niall, leaning against the counter, his head down. I stared at him, motionless for a few seconds, and when I whispered his name, I expected him to jump. Instead, he remained leaned on the counter, holding himself with his hands, and shook his head slightly.

"What are you doing here, Devie?"

"I just... I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine." he replied rudely, closing his eyes again.

I took a step closer and licked my lips nervously, tilting my head. "You don't seem fine."

"No, Devon, stop!" he let out louder, hitting the counter and turning swiftly to face me. "What do you want? Why the fuck are you here?"

"I told you, I miss you!" I replied with a frown, shaking my head.

"You miss me? Is that the best you can do?"

He was mad and somehow, I understood why, but it was getting to me in a way I couldn't explain. Probably because of how tipsy I was, but also because I was mad at myself for not being able to just open up to him.

"I do Niall! I miss you!" I let out louder to match his tone. "I miss spending time with you, watching movies with you, laughing with you! I miss you all the fucking time, I miss you so much it hurts!"

"No, no, Devon, you don't miss all that!"

"Don't tell me how I feel!" I argued, taking an other step closer to him as his eyes roamed up and down on me quickly.

"Oh because you know how you feel?" he asked sarcastically before letting out a scoff. "That would be new!"

"I know I fucking miss you!"

I started tearing up and when he moved a bit, I noticed his eyes glistening with the light, telling me he was near tears too. I couldn't believe how bad we hurt each other and although I knew we were susceptible to destroy each other, there was no way I wanted to leave.

My lips parted as I was waiting for his answer but he just laughed meanly and shook his head before grabbing my waist and pushing me against the wall. I thought it would hurt me but he had done it so skillfully that when his lips found mine, I held my breath and my eyes fluttered close. It felt like I had been waiting for this for years. The way his mouth pressed avidly against mine felt like drinking cold water after a long run. There was nothing else that could make me feel like that and my whole body relaxed in his arms when he kissed me deeper. I reached for his elbows as his grip tightened on my waist and when he broke the kiss, I suddenly felt empty.

"This is what you miss." he pointed out in a whisper, his tone still rough. "Not me, not the time we spent together. This. That's it."

"No Niall, that's not true." I murmured, his lips still so close to mine I would barely have to move to kiss him again. "This isn't just sexual."

He breathed in and swallowed but I could swear he was on the verge to cry and my heart threatened to jump out by my throat. "D'you know how much it hurts me?" he whispered, moving his head lightly as I felt his nose rub against mine. "I don't think you know."

I brought my hand up to his face to cup his cheeks and ran my thumbs gently on his cheekbones. His eyes closed and he sniffed before licking his lips slowly.

"I don't want to hurt you, Niall." I breathed, feeling myself tear up again. "It's the last thing I want. You mean so much to me."

"I am so... so mad at you, Devon." he confessed, his eyes still closed. "So fucking mad at you."

His words made something break inside me but I didn't really have time to say anything else. Quickly, he pressed his body against mine and I felt his hands run all over me impatiently. I could feel my heart throb between my legs and he kissed me hard, rubbing his cock slightly against me. My hands slipped in his hair and I whimpered in his mouth. He didn't give me much time to react and ended up turning me around and pushing me again. My cheek pressed on the wall as his hands moved around my waist and slipped under my shirt to reach for my breasts. He moved my bra up and gripped them hard as I tensed slightly, my back against his chest.

"Is that what you wanted when you took your shirt off in front of me the other day?" he whispered, his face in my hair. "Did you want me to fuck you so hard you'd forget my confession?"

My heart jumped in my chest and I felt one of my nipples roll between his fingers, making me bite my lip a bit too hard. I ground my ass against his dick and let out a curse words despite myself.

"I wanted you to fuck me but I can never forget those words Niall, never." I swallowed hard, knowing how close I was to admit that I loved him, but he didn't answer me.

He quickly unzipped my jeans and slid a hand in my panties, using one of his feet to push on mine and make me part my legs a bit, giving him better access. I moaned and closed my eyes when two of his finger slid on my slit before moving back up to rub my clit. He brought his other hand to push the hair off my shoulder, bringing it to the other one, and his lips brushed on my neck, making goosebumps appear all over my body.

"So you won't forget?" he asked in a murmur, making me press my lips together, trying not to shiver.

"No, I promise."

He took his hand off my panties and pushed my pants down mid-thighs before moving his hands away. i heard the sound of his zipper going down and when he brought his hand back on me, he placed it on my stomach and pulled me slightly away from the wall.

"Bend down." He order as he pushed on my back to hold me in place and I felt the tip of his cock press against my walls. "Don't fucking move."

By then, my whole body was throbbing and my nails scratched on the wall when he thrust his dick balls deep inside me. "Oh my... fuck!"

He didn't say anything, he just moved my back up again and pressed me against the wall before he started fucking me hard. His hands reached once again under my shirt and he gripped my breasts to help himself fuck me for a while. He stopped when I was getting close to an orgasm and leaned his chest on my back, leaving a small kiss behind my ear that made me quiver.

"That's what you wanted, yea?" he whispered, moving his hips back very slowly before pushing himself inside me again just as slow. "That's the only thing we do right isn't it? My cock wrecking your wet little cunt? That's all you want from me?"

My heart stirred and I swallowed hard, feeling an intense pain in my stomach. It was horrible to feel so close to an orgasm yet to be in so much pain at the same time. I wanted to tell him that he was wrong, I wanted to tell him that I cared about him as a friend, too, but also as something more than friends. I wanted to tell him that I cared about him as a lover, as something stupid like soulmates, as everything my heart ever desired... but I didn't. I couldn't.

"Are you gonna cum all over my cock?" his hand slid up and reached for my neck before he pressed his finger slightly on my throat.

I felt dizzy and let out a moan as I started shaking, feeling an orgasm spread all over my body. He kept fucking me hard and I knew immediately when he started cumming. He let out a curse word in a breath and pushed himself as deep as he could inside me while his grip tightened on my neck and waist. When he relaxed, he leaned his forehead on my shoulder and despite myself, I started crying in silence. I didn't even wipe the tears sliding on my cheeks, I just let them die in my neck as his hands traveled on me. He finally held me against him in a hug, brushing his nose on my neck and leaving a few kisses near my shoulder.

I moved a bit to pull my pants up and he took a small step back to zip his pants again. I put my bra and shirt back into place but I didn't dare to turn around. He had expressed so many feelings while we were having sex that I was not really sure how to feel anymore. Somehow, though, I felt like I deserved his anger.

"Was I too rough?" he asked as I immediately shook my head. "Look, I'm sorry."

Slowly, I turned on my heels and our eyes met. He was scratching the back of his neck and just shook his head before closing his eyes. I stared at him until he sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands.

"This is not just a sex thing." I just let out in a low and vulnerable voice.

"But it feels like it is." he blinked a few times and kept looking at me, taking a step back. "It was a mistake. I'm drunk and angry. This shouldn't have happened."

"So you didn't like it?" I quickly asked, raising my eyebrows and taking a step closer. "You didn't miss it?"

"You know I did." he admitted gently. Perhaps, fucking me the way he just had made some anger leave his body and helped him calm down. "But this hurts too much, Devie. I love you."

"Niall, I-"

"No." he cut me softly as he sniffed, blinking a few times as his eyes watered. "I need... I need out."

I don't know how long I stayed there, alone, but when I finally got out of the toilets, I heard my phone beep. I held my breath, trying to keep my tears in, and grabbed my phone in my pocket, realizing it was a miracle it didn't fall on the floor when Niall fucked me a few minutes before.

'Walk with me? I'm right outside.'

When I joined Louis, he had his hands in his pockets and we started walking in silence. He didn't ask anything or even say anything before we stood in the hall, between the doors of our rooms. I knew what he was thinking and somehow, he didn't have to tell me what he thought about the situation.

"He was crying, Dev, you know it, right?"

"Yes."

I decided not to tell him that I was crying too and that I was in pain too, because I felt like I didn't have the right to be, as if I deserved it.

"What are you gonna do about it?"

"Nothing. He's better without me."

Louis rolled his eyes and shook his head. He was so annoyed with me in the past few days and I tried not to blame him but at the same time, i was looking for comfort from my best friend and he just wasn't giving it to me. I knew real friendship was being able to tell the other the truth, no matter how harsh it was, but it didn't mean I didn't need my best fucking friend to let me sob in his arms.

"You know that's a horrible lie, Devon." he argued, a bit mad.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine!" Louis shrugged even if it was obvious that he was not indifferent to the whole thing. "You're still coming on that trip with us?"

I was not really in the mood anymore but my parents were going to on a trip for the holidays and I knew no one else. It was crazy how I felt like I didn't belong anywhere anymore. Nowhere seemed to feel like home and I had never felt so lost in my whole life.

"Will Abby be there?"

Louis sighed and rolled his eyes. "Who cares?"

I pressed my lips together, feeling myself tear up at the way he was with me. Perhaps I was seeing it worse than it actually was because of all the alcohol running in my veins and I finally nodded.

"Yea, I'm still coming."

When I opened the door of the small café, the bell rang exactly at the same time then my phone. I grabbed it and checked the text message I got and breathed in.

'I'm sorry for last night. You two just piss me off. Date him already, okay? He loves you.'

My lips curled on the right at Louis' words but I just put my phone back in the front pocket of my hoodie before walking inside. I noticed Cammy immediately and sighed low as I walked up to her. I was not sure it was a good idea to meet her after so many things had happened between us. Sometimes, relationships don't last and it's ok. Sometimes, they end up in pain and tears and it's ok too. I felt like that was the case for Cammy and I, and it was alright. I was over it and I didn't want to get back into a toxic friendship, even if we used to be very close.

"Hey." I just said without enthusiasm, sliding on the bench in front of her,

She looked up quickly and sent me a smile that I hadn't seen in a while. It was genuine and it surprised me. She put her phone away and reached for my hands on the table, squeezing my fingers. I let her but didn't do it back just as the waitress came. We both ordered a coffee and I cleared my throat, leaning my back on the bench as I looked at her.

"What did you want to meet me for, Cam?"

Her smile faltered and she shrugged, looking down at her hands. I realized she was nervous when I noticed the way she was playing with her own fingers but somehow, I couldn't get myself to feel bad. She was the one who had betrayed me, the one who was in the wrong, and I started wondering what the fuck I was doing here. I needed time to lay in bed and cry, that's all I really wanted to do anyway.

"I'm sorry, Dev." she apologized, shaking her head. "Of course you don't have to forgive me it's just... I didn't tell you but, I was sort of dating Henry too while you were with him and, I didn't know. So when you told me about it, it was a shock. I thought I was the only one. For fuck's sake, he told me he loved me!"

"Yea, he told me he loved me too." I chuckled sadly, looking away. "He said I was special, he said I moved him. He said a bunch of crap and I believed it. I trusted him."

"He still talks about you."

I turned my head and our eyes met but my lips parted and I frowned. "What?"

"He says how talented you are, how he feels bad that he doesn't have access to your art anymore." she explained with sadness in her voice. "He says he noticed you because of the talent and beauty in your art."

I felt myself tear up and swallowed hard. "It was never me he loved, it was always just the way i painted."

"No, Devon, you don't get it." Cammy scoffed, her eyes watering. "He sees me as a pretty girl. He sees you as a strong and talented woman. I am a face and a body to him but you are... you are so much more."

I remained silent for a few seconds and finally shook my head very lightly. "And all I ever wanted to be for him was a beautiful woman, a woman he looked at and felt his heart twist in his chest."

"When that twisting is gone, Devon, what's left?" Cammy asked with a sigh. "I can't leave him, I don't know how. I know I betrayed you and It was extremly wrong of me, but I think it brought you in a better place."

This time, I couldn't contradict her. Everything was better than being played by a man you loved. I suddenly thought about Niall and how lucky I had been to find him but now I had lost him. I closed my eyes and opened them again when I heard Cammy's voice again.

"You found someone that is ready to do anything for you." she pointed out, the left corner of her lips raising up. "That guy the other day? Are you dating him already?"

"No, I decided that love was not for me. Tried it, hated it. I'm done with it."

Cammy frowned and I realized how gorgeous she was. It made something sting in my stomach and I knew it was jealousy.

"Because of Henry?" she asked before shaking her head. "No, Dev, he's not worth it. You'll miss so many good things if you do that." I didn't answer and her eyes traveled on me before she sighed. "That guy? He deserves a chance. From the way he defended you the other day, I can tell how much he loves you. I think we all felt it, even Henry."

I started nibbling on my bottom lip as a bunch of thoughts ran in my head. Of course it was scary to give in but maybe Cammy was right. Would I end up regretting it if I didn't tell Niall how I felt? Would I wonder forever what my life would be like if I was with him? How would I feel when I'd see him with an other girl? How would I feel if he ended up going back with Abby?

I grabbed my phone in my pocket and squeezed it in my hand before putting it on the table. I could feel my heart thump so hard against my chest I thought it was just going to stop or escape. I closed my eyes and sighed, shaking my head. I couldn't do it. It was too hard on me, too scary. He would end up breaking my heart and I didn't think I would be able to survive an other heartbreak, especially not one with Niall because even if I didn't want to admit it, the feelings I had for him were consuming my whole being. They were much stronger than anything I had ever felt for anyone before. If he left me, he would destroy me, and I couldn't risk it. And anyway, it was probably too late.

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #niall horan story #niall horan au #niall horan college au #niall horan uni au #niall horan enemies to lovers #my fanfics #swy

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

Text

The Arrangement

John Wick x Reader (A/n- a pretty tame chapter by comparison.)

Masterlist The Arrangement Masterlist

Warnings- SMUT/NSFW, light bondage, d/s, vaginal fingering

Selfish Prayers

~11 months ago~

The powder blue wrap dress with the generous neckline, capped sleeves and lace at the hem, ending mid thigh was one of her nicest ones. Of course, she owned a couple evening gowns for functions held at the bank, but they were hardly the type of dresses that she'd wear on a date, or whatever she was meant to be having with John Wick. He hadn't specified what exactly the reasoning for inviting her to dinner was, his exact words had been, "I'd like to take you to dinner, I'll call you with the details."

He hadn't been the one to call though, instead, it had been his assistant, quickly telling her that she could meet John or rather, Mr. Wick, at the lounge of a popular five star hotel in Manhattan. The days leading up to that Friday had been nerve racking, though exciting. They'd been flirting before then, or at least, she thought they had. John was a man of very few words, and Y/n herself had never been too forward, but when he called for her boss, they'd usually spend well over fifteen minutes on the phone before she put him through. He'd ask about her day, make passing comments about how lucky her boss was to have her as his secretary and even fished around to see if she was single. John had more so made his interest increasingly clear on the night he'd prepped Y/n to testify on the matter of her boss's alibi. They'd been at his office well past midnight, he'd ordered them dinner and between the way John had coaxed her to relax through affectionate touches on her shoulder and his insistence to drive her home after they were finished, it was clear that he had taken a liking to Y/n.

Y/n couldn't deny it, she'd been intrigued by John from the moment she'd met him. He was the strong, silent type and exuded power, though, she supposed that it shouldn't have been surprising; he was one of the most powerful attorneys in the state, being one of two name partners at a well respected firm. And despite his seniority in comparison to her, he was alluringly attractive too; the textbook definition of tall, dark and handsome. It was one of the many things that had prompted her to accept his invitation and one would have to be blind to say that they didn't see his appeal. But Y/n? She was anything but.

Though, that Friday evening, when she got to the private lounge, she hadn't realized that she'd be walking into far more than she expected.

"I like to think of myself as a straightforward man," was what he'd said right in the middle of their meal, "And the last thing I want to do is mislead you, Y/n."

With a deep, shaky breath and a brief sip of her red wine, Y/n's eyes widened and she nodded slowly, wondering where he could possibly be taking things, "Okay."

"I think you're a remarkable woman," he noted, "In fact, I can't recall ever meeting anyone quite like you," at that, heat rushed to her cheeks and John smiled faintly before continuing, "Which is why I'd like to make you an offer."

His phrasing threw her and Y/n perked her brows, "An offer?"

"Yes," he determined, clearing this throat, "I have no interest in…..what you'd consider a conventional relationship, I usually prefer to engage in an…...arrangement." He stopped to gauge her reaction, though Y/n didn't think he could gather anything more than confusion from it.

"I don't understand," she finally admitted with a nervous chuckle. Was he implying that he wanted to hire her as an escort of some sort?

"I have very specific tastes, needs," with a punctuating sip of his drink, he explained, "In plain terms; I'm looking for a submissive. Usually there are private clubs for this sort of thing, but you…..I like you."

She'd never been in a relationship like that and Y/n wasn't sure how she should respond. Her lips quivered in indecision and thoughts swirled around in her mind confusingly. Finally, she managed to choke out one simple sentence, "I don't think I follow."

With a sigh, not one of annoyance, more like one of relief, that said he was grateful that she hadn't rejected him just yet, John clarified, "I prefer an arrangement, a contractual one, where you would be my submissive, not my girlfriend. I'd be happy to outline what that means, if you're interested."

Without hesitation, though, merely out of intrigue, she blurted out, "I'm interested."

Regarding her curiously, John nodded, "Alright. It would be exclusive, of course. And it's very simple really; I would be your dom, and you'd come when I ask you to-"

"For sex?"

"Among other things, but yes. You're entitled to your limits, and I'd respect them. We’ll discuss it more if you agree."

"You said among other things, what are the other things?"

"Occasionally, for client dinners or functions, you'd come with me, to keep up appearances and things like that. But otherwise, there would be very little…….emotional obligation. I wouldn't be your boyfriend, is what I mean." The entire thing felt so impersonal that Y/n might have forgotten that they were meant to be on something reminiscent of a date.

"You're overwhelmed," John determined after a couple minutes spent with her in silence. Surprisingly, he reached across the table for her hand, and when he looked at her then, she felt, in the most cliché sense, special. Not like she was the only girl in the room special, because she was, but in a way that had her convinced that even if the room was filled, she’d be the only person he wanted to look at. Perhaps that was the one thing that had sold her, she'd made her decision already. "I understand if this isn't something that you want."

"Would you be mad if I said no?" She glanced at his hand over hers, reluctant to reach the moment where he'd pull away.

Tilting his head, John furrowed his brows, "No, but I would be disappointed," quickly realizing himself, he shook his head, "But my feelings shouldn't force you to make a decision. This will only work if you want it too."

Gnawing on her lip, Y/n offered him the answer they both wanted, the decision she'd made from the minute he touched her, "I want it. But I've never been a….."

"A sub," he finished for her, "That's okay, I can teach you," lifting his hand off hers, he leaned over smoothly, caressing her cheek tenderly, and then shifting a loose curl away from near her eye. The mood had changed significantly, suddenly becoming more intimate and Y/n quickly came to the realization that they were having dinner at a hotel for that very reason. He'd already decided what would happen if she said yes. "That's what doms are for sweetheart."

Y/n's breath hitched, the sound leaving her lips agape and contained in her throat. "Is this what it'll be like?"

Quirking a smirk, "Sort of. I'll take care of you, you'll want for nothing and you'd be the only woman I treat this way. There's still a lot to work out, I'll have the contract sent to you by tomorrow afternoon, but right now, I'd like to see if we're compatible."

Temporarily disposing of her demure disposition, Y/n's eyes sparkled wickedly, "You mean you want to fuck me?"

Taken aback by the change, John chuckled, "Yes," he stood from his chair abruptly, coming to help Y/n out of hers, "Come on." Leading her with a hand low on her back towards the elevator through the lobby.

He'd withheld his words until the were secured safely inside the reflective box, his large palm slipping suggestively to the curve of her ass and his breath hot on her ear, "Tonight is just a trial run, but the next time you speak like that in public, you won't be able to sit on this," he smacked her harshly, causing Y/n to yelp and jump, "For the rest of the evening. Understood?"

Eager to please him, she nodded vigorously, "Yes Mr. Wick."

"Good girl," he praised, pecking her cheek, "And you can call me Sir," he hummed.

Shifting her head to meet his dark, consuming gaze, Y/n dragged her lower lip through her teeth, "Yes, Sir."

Even if she shouldn’t have expected anything less, Y/n was stunned upon entering the presidential suite. It took a man with tastes as refined as John's for a room like that to be rented for merely a handful of hours. Sucking in a breath, she looked around, letting the sight of reflective marble floors and exquisite French furniture under bright white light sink in. She’d never been in a room that nice, and being there in John’s attractively imposing presence was intoxicating. It felt as if she’d been thrust into a movie, it couldn’t have been real anyway, men like John simply didn’t handpick girls like her.

“What’s wrong?” He seemed hyper aware of every shift in her mood, not letting anything slip by him.

“Nothing,” she swallowed thickly, advertising her stare to the floor, “It's just…..why me?”

Knitting his brows, he urged her closer, “Why not you? It’s like I said, I think you’re a remarkable young woman; beautiful, intelligent and perfectly charming.”

“There are lots of women like that,” she scoffed, “And you could probably have anyone of them.”

“You’re right; I could. But I don’t want them, I don’t give a fuck about them,” he delivered firmly, “I want you," his voice dropped to a low, husky whisper, "There’s just something about you,” John leaned down, capturing her lips, “I don’t know what it is yet, but I’d like to find out. Come,” he urged, leading her to the sizable bedroom, where a series of large windows allowed city lights to illuminate the room. The chandelier over head was also on, though dim enough to not corrupt the mood.

“Are you on birth control?” Was the first question that he asked as they entered and John left her side, headed towards the nearest end of the room as heat rushed to Y/n’s cheeks. He was brazen and unafraid to say what he had to, and do whatever he wanted. “I’ll know if you’re lying, so be honest.”

Blinking quickly, Y/n clumsily debated whether or not she should answer, eventually offering, in the softest peep, “Yes, I’m on the pill.”

“Do you take it every day?” John caught how wide her eyes went, easily brushing off her embarrassment, “We need to be open and honest with each other if we want this to work. And I’m only asking because I wouldn’t want any……” children, “Accidents.”

Stiffly, she nodded, confirming, “I take it everyday.” Of course he’d want to know, the man didn’t even want a girlfriend, why would he want to risk getting someone pregnant?

“You need a safe word, something simple, that you can remember when you’re uncomfortable or if I take things too far. Nothing that’s easy to miss and you have to remember it; something like a color or an object. Do you have anything in mind?” John was in the process of removing his watch and shrugging off his suit coat near the dresser as he spoke, leaving Y/n standing near the bed.

“A color…..” she mused absently, gazing down at her dress, “Will blue work?”

He’d already moved on to taking off his belt, following up with his shoes afterwards, “That’s perfect. You’ll speak when I ask you to, and you’ll cum only when I permit it, understand?”

“Yes Sir,” she offered meekly, not really sure on where her eyes should fall, opting to let them follow him around the room, observing in awe as John moved with fluidity, from the arm chair to a table laid out with drinks.

John was finally sat on the bed, clad only in his pristine white dress shirt, stripped tie and black slacks, drink in hand as he carried on with the basics, “Like I said, it’s your first night, so we’re just working things out. But after you sign the contract, every time I invite you to my bedroom, you’ll wait on your knees, palms on your thighs and your head down. In your underwear. You don’t touch me unless I tell you to, and if I touch you in a way you don’t like for whatever reason, you use your safe word. Tell me your safe word again.”

“Blue.”

“Good,” John hummed, taking a sip of his bourbon, “Now, take your clothes off.”

The command startled her and Y/n inhaled sharply, “What?”

“Strip,” he ordered nonchalantly, “Do you need help with the zipper?”

“Uh….” Fumbling for words, Y/n shook her head, “It’s at the side,” she breathed. She couldn’t recall a man ever being that forward with her, and she’d certainly never been ordered to get naked right in the midst of what she thought to be a conversation. Downstairs, her quick witted boldness had come easy, but upstairs, when the moment had actually arrived, Y/n couldn’t resist the urge to retreat into herself.

Simply nodding, John kept his gaze on her, watching intently as she floundered around his simple order, sighing heavily when Y/n hesitated. He was patient though, his tone still even when he pressed the issue, “When I give you an order; you listen. And there’s no reason to be shy. You’re a beautiful woman Y/n, let me see you.”

Sucking in another unsteady breath, Y/n reached for the hidden zipper on the side of her dress, blinking quickly as she gave it a gentle tug. “More confidence,” he suggested, nodding for her to continue.

Straightening her back, she carried on with the zipper, letting her delicate fingers graze her exposed skin as she did. With the side undone, the garment seemed to hang on her shoulders awkwardly, though it wasn’t for long as Y/n was soon reaching for the lacy hem, pulling it over her head as gracefully as she could to reveal her simple, white, lace and silk lingerie. The set wasn’t too racy; seamless lace panties with a matching bra that boasted bands of silk at the top. She could easily tell that the sight was having an effect on John though, it was evident by the growing tent straining against his zipper. “See?” He mumbled, laying a heavy palm over his crotch, “Beautiful. Bra next.”

Reaching behind herself, Y/n searched for the fastenings of her bra, the thin fabric rough against her fingers. When she finally found it, she fumbled with it for less than a handful of seconds before she was slipping arms of the smooth straps. At the sight of her breasts, full, perky, and nipples peaked with arousal, John took a long sip of his drink, giving his member a squeeze.

Her panties were the next to go; thin fingers hooking in the waist, shimmying them down her legs, leaving her completely disrobed as she stepped out of them. “Keep your shoes on,” John leaned over to discard his empty glass on the nightstand. Spreading his legs; he invited Y/n to stand between them, the four inches of her heels allowing for him to be in the eye line of her stomach. “Undo my tie, slowly.”

Gulping, thrilled by the idea of finally getting to touch him, Y/n let her nimble fingers edge the knot near his neck loose, savoring every second of it as she undid it. “Now give it to me,” she laid it in his open palm, “Turn around. Does this make you uncomfortable,” he held her wrists firmly, tightening his single handed grip when Y/n wriggled her hands.

“No Sir,” Y/n peeped, suppressing a shiver when John replaced his calloused touch with the rich fabric of his tie binding her wrists behind her back before guiding her at the hips.

His lips were hot over her navel, feverish kisses making their way lower at a leisurely pace as one of his hands slipped between her thighs. His thumb pressed on her nub, rubbing in circles as his pointer spread her slick moistness around. “You’re so wet already,” John muttered.

His digits worked her slowly and in the interim he nibbled on her satiny skin of her stomach, leaving dark bruises. John kept her against him with his spare palm splayed on her lower back, the only thing that kept her up. Y/n’s short breaths were ragged and whiny, and she fought against the fabric restraining her hands, eager to thread her hands through his perfectly maintained raven mane. The knot he’d made held though, only serving to bruise and burn her skin with every fretful twist.

A lewd whine seeped from her lips as his fingers moved inside her, the way he’d curled them slightly accentuating their every move. They were so pleasurably rough and so stocky that they offered to stretch her in the slightest bit, “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted, “You think your tight pussy can take my cock Kitten?”

Y/n’s response was a half hearted moan, her coherence wavering and her stance growing shaky. His thumb, still working her clit, pressed down firmly and when John felt her start contracting around his fingers, he slowed his pace, “Not yet,” he growled lowly, biting down on her skin, surely leaving marks.

Removing his soaked fingers completely, John drew her attention, locking his eyes with hers as he sucked them clean. “Do you want to taste yourself?” He stood without warning, their proximity so limited that his member pressed urgently against her thigh.

The kiss was far more intense than the one they’d shared upon entering the suite, John’s tongue boldly moving past the barrier of her teeth, the slightly salty taste of her arousal still evident on his tongue as it swirled erotically around hers. Palming her cunt, John swallowed up her sounds eagerly, “One day I’m gonna eat this pussy out so fucking good, that you’ll cum all over my face.”

“Sir,” Y/n groaned, the plea muffled by John’s lips still on hers.

“Shh,” he urged, turning them before guiding Y/n to the bed. She fell back against the sheets, hair skewing her lust-blurred vision. He’d started undressing; starting with the plastic buttons of his shirt, and Y/n struggled to shake some hair out of her face as she watched; propped up on her elbows.

John was undoubtedly a sight to behold; broad shoulders and obviously firm biceps with a sturdy physique. On his shoulder, she spotted a tattoo; a large cross, and some more ink peeked out from his back. Y/n hadn’t taken him for the type to have a back covered in ink, though she was quickly learning that he was a man of many layers. Briefly, she wondered what his tattoos meant, though, the thoughts were fleeting as his pants and pale blue boxers fell to the floor.

Her jaw hung slack and words escaped her. If Y/n hadn’t realized it before, she was certainly well aware of the sheer magnificence that was John Wick by then. His manhood stood proudly out of a groomed, dark bush, a clear bead gathered on his swollen, rosy head. Her sex throbbed excitedly and a fresh wave of moisture gathered between her thighs, and Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn’t eagerly awaiting a time where she could put her mouth on him.

The hunger in his rich stare was evident as he crawled on top of her, his firm shaft teasing her as it brushed Y/n's arousal. Sinking his arms into the mattress, John started at Y/n's lips, journeying towards her jaw and consequently down the column of her neck. The evidence of John's presence would surely be littered across her skin by the end of the night, though Y/n supposed that his lingering nibbles weren't without intention.

Yearning to feel him, she arched her back, huffing despondently when he hastily grabbed her hips, shoving her back onto the bed. "Patience," John barked, burying his face in the valley of her swollen breasts. His shortened beard burnt her skin, weaning a hiss from her lips and Y/n craved more. She wanted to feel that pleasurable roughness all over her body, have John mark her

Not releasing his firm hold, John's tongue flicked over her pebbled nipple, eliciting an audible shudder from Y/n. Then, when he closed his mouth over the top of her boob, only to gently drag his teeth along the sensitive skin, goosebumps raised along her arms and legs and Y/n’s eyes slipped closed. Her body resisted his grip, hips fighting to buck forward fruitlessly, the desire for John intense and burning. “We’re gonna have to train you to hold still,” he lifted his mouth to her ear, his hot breath fanning her skin, “Or just keep you tied up,” he bit her lobe before sucking the spot behind her ear.

Depraved moans filled the room, and John finally reached between them, lining himself up with her entrance before pushing into her, all at once. Y/n’s eyes flew wide open and a hollowed groan parted her lips as John stretched her so wide it burned and she swore she could feel him nestled deep inside her. As patient as he was, so Intune with maximizing the slow build to pleasure, John was proving to be almost selfish once sheathed between her sensitive walls. He rolled his hips aggressively, burying Y/n into the disarrayed sheets. Each thrust evoked a profane yelp to accompany his low, rumbling grunts. The searing heat gathered in their skin and above her, though blurred vision, she could make out his clenched jaw and bared, gritted teeth framed by sweaty hair sticking to his face.

As he moved, Y/n’s toes clenched in her shoes, the heels pressed into the plush sheets and every time his bulging veins dragged against her and the slight curve of his cock. At some point, he grabbed one of her legs, harshly draping it over his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper as her other leg lay crooked on the sea of fine silk. “Sir…” she hitched, incoherent and squeezing her eyes shut as he drilled into her, his balls consistently assaulting her cunt.

A rumbling growl escaped through his gritted teeth and it wasn't long before John was bending his head, ravaging her neck mercilessly. “So fucking tight,” he gnarred as her body upwards. His sloppy, open mouth kisses and suckles on her were searing and his rough touch, occasionally dragging along her sides, only to once again settle on her hips, were like holy fire lapping at her silken skin.

Y/n’s wrists protested against John’s tie, the fabric surely leaving bruises to match the rest he was giving her. Every sensation was intensified; the way bulging veins on his girth rubbed her walls, the heat from the pads of his fingers sunken into her damp skin, and the coarseness of his groomed beard brushing and burning the column of her neck. John was a skillfully selfish lover, if one could even call him that; a lover, and it was hard to ward off the crest of gratification that was creeping up on her with each roll of his expert hips. “I wanna feel you cum,” he mumbled between little bites and nibbles, “Let me feel you cum babygirl.”

Her short, hitched breaths grew quicker in succession and the knot in the coil in the pit of her stomach was wound so tight that it was close to snapping. “Please,” she whimpered, her sinful prayer was hoarse and she closed her hands in on themselves, feeling her nails dig into her palms. John bucked his hips violently and Y/n’s heel dug into the mattress just as a perverted cry left her mouth agape and jaw slack. Writing beneath him, she tossed her head to the side, feeling messy strands fall over her face, sticking to her skin.

“Look at me,” John demanded, riding through her high, getting close to her face. She could almost taste the bourbon on his breath and his chest was pressed to her swollen breasts, pinning her to the bed. “I want to see you,” he continued, “I wanna see how sexy you look when you squeeze my cock with this pretty little cunt.”

Shifting her head, Y/n regarded him through dilated pupils, his image hazy and white spots dancing on her vision as raw pleasure coursed through her veins like fire. Even as she came down, from her high, John proved relentless, pounding into her with unwavering vigor. Sloppy noises joined their vulgar moans and grunts and between her thighs felt sticky with her juices and soon after her first, Y/n could feel her second orgasm mounting. If it weren’t for the restraint holding her hands back, the knot done so tightly, her hands would have flown to his back, nails sinking into John’s skin.

Her second wave of pleasure crashed over her unexpectedly, leaving Y/n gasping loudly for breath as she arched into John. Simultaneously, his movements went stiff and rigid and John’s heavy grip on her hip went tighter. “Fuck,” he huffed, the word contained low in his throat, features, contorted in ecstasy shrouded by dark hair matted to parts of his face. Bursts of his hot product sprayed against her drenched, pulsating walls in silky ribbons. John bucked his hips in an unmanned rhythm, struggling to keep pace as they fell over the edge.

Her legs trembled with pleasure and the thick air around them was stifling, befuddling sense and intensifying innate sensations. Ragged, broken words threatened to break her stretch of audible inhales, but they never quite made it and as damp skin almost melted into one. It was hard to hold his gaze with his forehead pressed to hers, his hair ticking her face and their breaths shared as John’s ajar lips hovered over hers.

Mere minutes after it was over, John detached himself, pecking Y/n near the side of her forehead when she winced as he rolled off her. Swallowing thickly, she eyed him as he seemed to gather himself faster than she could, eventually scooting off the bed, confident enough to approach the drink tray near the wall without slipping into an inch of clothing. As Y/n shuffled around, guarding her modesty with the soft sheets, the fabric feeling weightless on her smooth skin, she winced again as she turned to catch a good look at John. It was all definitely gonna hurt the next day, but for a man like him, the pain was worth it.

With a glass of water in hand, he approached the bed, easing in next to her before offering Y//n the glass. Mumbling a shy thanks, she brought the thin, tall glass to her lips, where the color had faded. “So?” She sighed hopefully, between brief, quenching sips, “Are we compatible?”

Gazing down at her, John got closer, propping his weight on an elbow before reaching over to tuck a stray lock behind her ear, his large palm lingering on her cheek. “I don’t know,” he squinted, though, just barely, as he regarded her with an indecipherable expression that was hypnotically irresistible. There was something about him, a darkness that resided past those whiskey eyes that thrilled her, it was magical, alluring and she ached to learn it. Discover the man behind the tailored suit; serve him, please him. “You tell me,” John offered.

Leaning into his touch, Y/n resisted the urge to close her eyes. Could it really be as easy as that? In the end, he’d let her choose? And if that was the case, who could ever refuse John? It was completely new to her; unchartered territory and certainly a decision that would warrant far more thought, still she made it impulsively, knowing that even with a weekend’s worth of contemplation, she’d always come up with the same thing. Because even with everything in between; contracts, rules, specifics, it all came back to the simplicity that had led them to a hotel room in Manhattan, he wanted her and she wanted him. “Yeah,” moistening her lips, Y/n restrained her smile, until it seemed that John would let one of his own slip as he came down to kiss her slowly, “I think we’re compatible,” she returned quietly us as his hand tangled in her tresses and his lips found hers.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

#john wick #keanu reeves #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #fanfic #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #the arrangement #selfish prayers

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sodalitefully · 4 years ago

Text

It’s hazardous to breathe... [GNR Mad Max AU, pt. 2]

This is the second and final half of @smokeandmirrorz’s and my GNR AU inspired by the movie Mad Max: Fury Road! Thank you for reading, enjoy 😊

*Contains mpreg, character death, and plenty of unpleasant things from the Mad Max universe, including implied/referenced sexual violence, some regular violence/gore, and Immortan Joe.*

[part 1]

----

The sun-baked sand stung the soles of Slash's bare feet as he curled his toes and bit his lip and tried not to let the pain show on his face.

After the sandstorm and all the chaos that came before it, Izzy had decided that there was enough space between them and the War Party to take a much-needed break. And as much as Slash appreciated a drink of water and a chance to stretch his legs, he was more than ready for them to pack it up and keep moving.

With every gust of wind, he thought he could hear drums pounding and engines roaring, and with every step, he scalded his sensitive soles. But he didn’t like the idea of voicing his discomfort to the others, so instead he tiptoed back into the shade of the War Rig and sat on the side of the fuel pod, carefully perching his feet so that they wouldn’t touch the ground.

It had been years since Slash last found himself surrounded by people that he mostly-almost-kinda-sorta trusted, and he thought it might be a few more years before he relearned to act like it.

Steven was happily banging sand off the sides of the War Rig with a spare pipe. Duff was fiddling with the hose, looking at it in fascination like it was the Fountain of Life itself. Axl was taking inventory of the weapons, which spoke volumes about how much Izzy trusted him, and Izzy himself...

"Are you just planning on sitting there, or are you going to help, Princess?"

"Well I –" Slash wasn’t sure if he’d rather get up and tough it out, or explain the problem to Izzy, but Steven interrupted him before he could decide:

"How can you talk to him like that, Imperator?!" Offense was plain on his face, his sand-clearing weapon hovering near his head mid-strike.

Oh no.

"I'll talk to him however I want," Stradlin retorted, rather unhelpfully in Slash’s opinion.

"He's a wife! He was chosen by the Immortan himself to be one of his prized breeders! He's the most shiny, chrome –"

"Steven, stop, put that down..." Slash's weak attempt to defuse the conversation went unnoticed.

“You can give up the zealot act, the Immortan’s not here to give you a pat on the head for it! Slash isn’t his wife anymore and he’s never going to be again, so you better get used to it.”

The bomb went off. Axl drifted closer as Steven started shouting at Izzy, who tensed up, ready for a fight.

"You – You 'traitored him? You're stealing his wife for yourself, is that it? How could you, you fucking – "

"I knew you should have killed him to begin with. He's a fanatic, there's no saving him – "

"Slash deserves better than a weak, 'traitoring coward and his feral bloodbag! You're mad if you think you can get away with this, when the Immortan catches you, he'll – "

"Steven!"

Finally, Slash got his attention.

"Just... Come here. Stradlin, Axl, fuck off for a minute. See if you can pry Duff away from the hose or something, I don't care, just let me talk to Steven.

"Look, Stevie, just listen to me, alright? I asked Izzy to get me away from Joe because he was cruel and he was a liar, and we all deserve a better life than we were living there. None of us were happy at the Citadel, we just stayed because we believed him when he told us we had no choice. I'm not his wife anymore and I never was any different than anyone else, that was a lie too." He got up from his perch on the Rig, and tried not to flinch when his feet touched the burning sand. "Do you believe me?"

Steven didn't respond, couldn't even meet his eyes.

Slash didn't expect it would be easy for Steven to reconcile a lifetime of indoctrination with the truth that he suspected the War Boy knew, deep down, but the silent treatment still stung.

He sighed, and looked over to where the others were hunched over the War Rig's engine. Slash was practically useless when it came to mechanics, but surely there was something he could do to help.

He started to head over, but stopped in his tracks when something landed in the sand beside him: Steven's pair of heavy leather boots, a godsend to Slash's aching feet. He turned around to thank Steven, but his friend had already picked up his pipe and ducked around to the other side of the Rig.

"Why didn't you stay with me?" Axl asked, his hushed voice drifting on the bone-dry desert wind. "We could have survived together, had each other's backs. Why did you leave?"

It was past time for Izzy to go to sleep and let Axl take over keeping watch, but instead they were sitting side by side in the still-warm sand, staring at the lights in the sky in companionable silence. Just like old times.

"Resources. Better odds. The Citadel had water and I thought that if I played along with their little society for a while, I would come out ahead in the end."

"That's what you told me then, too... Your choice didn't exactly pay off for you, did it?"

Izzy clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to snap at Axl's bluntness.

"... I thought it would be nice, that it would be the next best thing to what it was like before. I thought the Citadel would be civilized. I was wrong."

"What happened, Izzy?" Axl turned to look at him when he didn't get a response. Izzy could feel him eyeing the scars on his face, and wished he hadn't left his bandana in the Rig. "Why the fuck won't you tell me anything?"

"Why won't you stop asking?"

"I don't know, maybe because I care about you? I care about whatever happened to you while we were apart! I guess you wouldn't know anything about that, though, you haven't asked me what I've done in the past two thousand days – not even once!"

Izzy kept his eyes pinned on the dark horizon.

"For fuck's sake, you're going to have to tell me eventually." Silence. "Fine." Axl got up and brushed the sand off his clothes. "Why don't you just get some sleep, Izzy."

Izzy didn't move, but he could hear Axl walking around to the other side of the Rig, and climbing up into the turret. Stubbornly, he waited a few minutes before rising to his feet, climbing into the cab, and sitting down as if he was about to drive, with his eyes on the windshield and his hands on the wheel.

"Why won't you tell him?"

Izzy jumped at the whispered voice. He turned to see Slash, wide awake and staring at him, his eyes glittering black behind his hair.

"How long have you been awake?"

"I remember the first time I saw your scars," Slash told him, ignoring Izzy's attempts to signal that he absolutely did not want to talk about it.

Izzy remembered too, and it was far from one of his fondest memories. The Organic had just released him the day after the accident, and Izzy was still in a haze of pain when Immortan Joe summoned him to one of his chambers at the top of the tower.

Apparently, Joe just couldn't wait another minute to explain to Izzy in great detail what a disappointment he was. He sat on a cushioned throne with his wives gracefully positioned at his feet, and recited a speech that Izzy had heard a dozen times before – though usually not directed at him. Blah, blah, "mediocre," blah, blah, "not worthy to call himself a follower of the V8..."

The performance culminated when Joe informed Izzy that he would no longer hold the honorable position of his wives' personal guard. The Immortan could no longer trust someone so pathetic and disgraceful with their safety.

Izzy grinned at the irony. The scar on his face flexed, and Slash flinched. Immortan Joe laughed and took Slash's face into his hand so that he couldn't look away.

"Hideous, isn't it? Unlike you, my Desire, perfect in every way..." Slash had to stretch as Joe lifted his jaw higher, putting his body on display. "He may be a full life, but he's damaged, just like all the others. Even if he is chosen for the halls of Valhalla, he will never be as flawless as you. Do not be afraid, my Desire, for the Imperator is unworthy of your fear."

"I'm not afraid."

"Of course not, you're under my protection, after all..." The Immortan kept talking but all Izzy could remember was the way that Slash stared at him dead in the eye, his gaze darkened with an emotion that Izzy couldn't quite pinpoint.

At this point, Slash had only been at the Citadel for a hundred, maybe two hundred days, and even though Izzy was around the wives almost every day, he still felt like he didn't really know the newest addition to Joe's treasure vault. Slash was quiet and withdrawn, even from the other wives. He didn't talk about his life before Joe imprisoned him, but he must have been one of the more fortunate survivors, because he wasn't dazzled by the wive's luxurious lifestyle for even a second. Instead, he focused all his energy on fighting Joe with tooth and nail.

In the Immortan's eyes, Slash's wildness only increased his appeal, and fueled Joe's desire to tame his prize – turning tempestuous Slash into the the object of his Desire. Izzy could tell that Slash was smart, he quickly learned how to choose his battles without fully giving in. But what he didn't realize was that Slash's observant gaze was so often turned towards him, silently evaluating a potential enemy or ally.

In the present, Slash was giving him the exact same stare. Wide-eyed and piercing, as intense as the sun but as dark as night.

"I was jealous," he told Izzy with complete conviction, as if that was the only sensible reaction to fresh, disfiguring burn scars. "I wanted your scars, so that Joe would only look at me the way he looked at you then. You're lucky, you know?"

By the next morning, the past was forgotten – or at least, Izzy, Axl, and Slash collectively decided not to bring it up again. There were more pressing matters, plans to be drawn and decisions to be made. Just about nothing in the past 24 hours had gone the way Izzy imagined it would: First they took on a stowaway War Boy, then the deal with the Buzzards fell through, and now they found themselves aimless in the middle of the Wasteland with only another day's worth of guzzoline.

Ahead of them – barren desert, uncharted wastes, and a seemingly infinite expanse of lifeless salt flats. And behind them – as Axl helpfully pointed out – fresh water, green plants, and a veritable fortress.

And a War Party, did he forget about the War Party? God, maybe Axl really was mad, suggesting that they go back the way they came and face Immortan Joe and his lackeys head on. Or maybe, Izzy wondered, they were all mad for agreeing to go along with his plan.

As they prepared the War Rig for a very hard day's ride, Slash approached Izzy in private.

"Look... Stradlin. I know this wasn't what you planned. I'm sorry that you and Axl didn't get to make a clean getaway and put this hell behind you, I really am. But... Thank you."

"Thank me if we survive tomorrow," Izzy replied. Maybe he was trying to sound gruff and indifferent, but he and Slash both knew the Citadel’s ghosts far too well to believe it.

The Gigahorse was gaining on the War Rig fast, its monstrous tires bumping against the rear of the truck like a dog trying to mount a bitch, but neither Slash nor Duff payed the beast any attention.

Slash couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dark red stain on Duff's bandaged chest. It was growing – not like a seed, but like a wildfire, fast and merciless and deadly. He didn't know that it was still possible to feel like the world was ending, but now he thought that the emptiness in his chest, the cold heartbreak and furious hopelessness – this must be how people before felt when the world died.

Duff's fingertips touched Slash's chin and gently tilted his head up. Slash tore his eyes away from the bleeding wound to meet Duff's gaze.

"Slash, it's okay. It's all going to be fine." He took a labored breath. "Just... Remember me, alright?"

He was smiling, like he really, truly believed that everything would work out, even as he dropped his hands from Slash's face to pick up their last exploding lance and a half-gallon of guzzoline.

"No, Duff, please don't – " Don't go, don't leave me... The words died on Slash's tongue. It was hard to beg for mercy when he had long since forgone the belief that the Wasteland was capable of giving any.

Duff though, he believed. Maybe that was Slash's fault, or maybe it was something ingrained in Duff's soul from birth, almost a half-lifetime ago, but he believed he had a purpose, that he could put all the misery at the Citadel to an end, that he could help Slash to start his new life, that he could put an end to his own body's slow decay.

Duff took his last look at Slash's dust-streaked, grief-struck face – and then jumped.

At that moment, Slash wouldn't have noticed if the sun fell out of the sky. He didn't move or even breathe as the Gigahorse blossomed into a mass of blazing orange petals that forced apart its metal hull and consumed Duff and Immortan Joe alike.

Slash stared as the wreckage shrank away in the wake of the War Rig. Only a rising column of heavy black smoke was still visible when Axl reached a hand to his shoulder and gently guided him back to the cab.

They had to stop the Rig to collect Joe's body, knowing that they couldn't claim to have killed the Immortan, the undying, a god among men without proof. Steven jumped off the Rig before it fully stopped and took off running to see the corpse of a man he once worshipped with his own eyes. Slash moved to follow, but Axl blocked him and gave Izzy a pointed look.

For once, Izzy conceded without a fight. He wrapped an arm around Slash's shoulder and guided him back to his seat.

"Slash, you need to rest. Steven and Axl will take care of it."

Satisfied that Izzy would look after Slash, who was obviously in shock, Axl turned to follow after Steven, gravel and charred bits of metal crunching beneath his feet.

Steven stared into the gruesome wreckage, quieter than Axl had ever seen him and looking like he couldn't decide whether he'd rather run away from the pale corpse, or beat it with a lug wrench. Axl couldn't blame him, just the knowledge that the man had hurt Izzy for years was enough to make him want to spit down his ruptured esophagus. In the end though, exhaustion won over and they hauled the mangled body back to the War Rig without any additional desecration.

The rest of the wreck was... not salvageable. The Gigahorse might have been Joe's pride and glory when he was alive, but now it was no more than a heap of charred steel, a grim warning to all those who pass.

And as for Duff... There would be no gravedigging in the hard-packed clay, but Axl didn't think Duff would want to be buried in the toxic soil anyway. A mound of rocks would suffice instead, a tribute that Axl hoped would last for the rest of the lifetime Duff deserved.

When they finally climbed back into the cab of the Rig, Axl twisted around and reached into the backseat to press a dirty lock and chain into Slash's hands.

"Izzy... you have a responsibility for these people."

"Responsibility? I don't owe them shit. I was as much a prisoner at the Citadel as any of them, I'm not going back and if they have any sense they won't either."

"The water at the Citadel is too important to abandon. You have to make sure that no one else tries to do what Immortan Joe did, to hoard the water and use it to own people instead of helping them."

"Didn't realize that spending two thousand days on your own would make you care so much about the common good."

Axl turned away with a grimace. "You don't know what I've been doing since you left." He tried not to let it sound like an accusation, but Izzy got the message anyway.

“The kids are going to need you,” he added, still looking at the horizon instead of Izzy. “I mean, Slash is pregnant for fuck’s sake. You’re not just going to drop him off to deal with all the ghosts in that hellhole alone, are you? Especially after...” He glanced at the figure curled under his old leather jacket in the rearview mirror, making sure that Slash was still sleeping like the dead in the backseat.

"You're right. Again." Izzy sighed. "Fine. I'll stay at the Citadel, for a little while."

"Good." Axl rested a reassuring hand on Izzy's arm. "I'll go with you, alright? I'll help you do what you need to do, and then we can leave and never look back."

Slash stood on the carved outcrop jutting out from the tallest tower in the Citadel. His skin was tanned, his hair was wild, and a steel chain with a broken lock was twisted into the stained cloth at his waist. Above his head, the skull edifice was scarred by a jagged gash, no longer a monument to the Immortan's false glory. Below his feet, fresh, cold water churned impatiently in the irrigation channels, desperate to be released.

Steven stood behind him, a bit battered, but the encouraging grin on his face was no worse for wear. On his other side, Izzy surveyed the scene below, and a few steps deeper in the shadows Axl lurked impatiently, trying not to let on his anticipation.

The crowd of formerly-Wretched roared when Slash stepped forward and rested his hands on the levers, their shouts echoing between the towers. It felt like the largest crowd of people that Slash had seen in his life, and every one of them was watching him. For a moment, he wondered if Duff would be proud – but Slash didn't feel proud, he felt like his knees might buckle.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. Fuck victory speeches, he just wanted everyone to get the water they deserved. He thrust the levers forward, and listened to the water as it burst from the pipes and rained down to the ground, a thunderous cascade almost as loud as the overwhelming relief ringing in his ears.

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#sodafics #gnr fanfic #gnr #guns n roses #guns and roses #slash #saul hudson #steven adler #izzy stradlin #duff mckagan #axl rose #mad max #mad max au

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