#MWAH IT'S FINALLY FINISHED I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lokissweater · 1 month

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you noticed me ⚾︎

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.

word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)

authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.

and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?

there he was in all of his emo glory.

number eighteen.

focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.

“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.

“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”

you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.

“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.

your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”

you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.

“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”

“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”

she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”

“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”

she snorted. “are you sure?!”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.

you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”

“suit yourself!”

a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.

she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.

“i told yuji.”

you blinked. “told him what?”

“that you like fushiguro.”

“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”

“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”

“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”

your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”

you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”

“megumi also played really well today.”

“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.

“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”

“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.

he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”

you snorted, “elaborate please.”

yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.

“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.

your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”

“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.

yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”

“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”

he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”

you stared blankly.

“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”

you kept staring.

“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”

you blinked.

“y/n?”

“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”

your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”

“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“because your eyes are red.”

“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”

you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”

“y/n…” yuji trailed off.

“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”

and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.

it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?

this was the reality. you never stood a chance.

so why were you crying?

you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.

you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.

you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.

megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?

he never felt so out of reach.

“here.”

your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.

“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”

the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.

but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.

“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”

“for what.”

you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.

not that you could even see in the first place.

“for looking like a loser.”

the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”

you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.

“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”

“that’s the point,” he hums.

“how come?”

“i get migraines everyday. they help.”

“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”

you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”

you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”

“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”

you snickered, “what? loserrr.”

you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.

“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”

you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.

“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”

you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.

“why is that.”

“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”

the stranger man stopped.

“…why?”

“because he indirectly broke my heart.”

you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.

at least someone is having fun right now.

“how did he indirectly break your heart?”

“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”

“did he?”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”

the stranger man hummed.

“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”

“why do you like him?”

“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.

you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”

you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”

you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”

the stranger man laughed a little.

“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”

“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”

you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”

you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”

“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.

“yup.”

the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”

“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.

it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.

“i’m sorry i made you cry.”

you jumped back.

“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”

you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.

and when they did?

megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.

your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.

“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.

you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.

his smile widened.

oh my god.

megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.

but he was smiling.

“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”

“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.

“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”

he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.

“you don’t have to do that.”

“yes i do—”

“you don’t have to forget me either.”

“that i definitely do—”

you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.

“hold on y/n—”

megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.

y/n?

you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.

“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.

“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”

you nodded, eyes blank.

“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.

oh.

oh that’s right.

you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.

“oh.”

he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.

“dummy.”

“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.

his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”

megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.

you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.

cute.

“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”

“do you have a ride home?”

you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”

he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.

he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“you coming?”

your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”

“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”

he stared lazily.

“come.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.

megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.

you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.

his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.

megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—

he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.

“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.

megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.

“can you put your address in—”

“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”

you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.

forty fucking minutes.

“megumi..”

his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.

“hm?”

“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”

you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”

“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.

“i’ll jump out.”

he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.

“i have child lock on.”

“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”

“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”

you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”

he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.

“what do you do?”

you fidgeted. “h—huh?”

“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”

he’s asking you?

“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”

he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”

you grimaced.

do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?

you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”

he raised an eyebrow.

“i— don’t?”

he cocked his head. “you don’t?”

you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.

“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”

you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”

you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”

he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.

you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.

megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.

you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.

“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.

your eyebrows furrowed.

he was still thinking about that?

you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”

he huffed out a laugh.

megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.

well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.

megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.

you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.

“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”

he shook his head. “it’s alright.”

you went in to close the door.

“y/n.”

you leaned back down, “yeah?”

“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.

“i— i don’t think so.”

“good.”

megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.

“i’ll see you then.”

as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.

the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.

as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.

once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.

he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.

“who are you waving at?”

your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.

“who is- fushiguro?!”

you looked at her sheepishly.

as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.

“i have to tell yuji—”

“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”

“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”

“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”

“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.

that’s how it went for about a month.

you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.

but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.

but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.

when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.

“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”

“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”

“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”

“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.

“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”

she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”

you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.

“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”

she nodded eagerly.

“i swear!”

so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.

you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.

finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.

“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”

“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.

your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.

“hi.”

you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

you gulped.

“h—hi.”

“i didn’t think you’d come.”

he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.

“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”

he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.

“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”

you faltered.

he noticed that?

“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. ��i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”

for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.

“are you—”

“fushiguro!”

you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.

“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”

megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.

the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.

“hi! i’m takuma!”

you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”

“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”

you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.

at his own banquet.

“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”

takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”

you nodded, “mhm!”

the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.

you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.

“is anyone sitting here?”

“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”

“take mine ino.”

megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”

huh?

“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”

he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.

and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.

“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”

“mhm.”

your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.

the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.

your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.

he stared at your enamored look.

“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.

but he did.

“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.

your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”

megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.

“here.”

your eyes traveled down.

“what?”

“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.

shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”

megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.

“i have four others. it’s fine.”

“no but—”

he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.

yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.

your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.

“t—thank you gumi…”

his lips twitched.

you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.

and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.

megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.

“they met at a party didn’t they?”

you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”

he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”

your jaw dropped. “you were?!”

he nodded. “and i remember you too.”

you sat there in silence.

how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?

before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.

you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”

he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”

“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”

megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”

your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”

he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”

“don’t be sorry gumi…”

you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.

but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.

“do you want to leave?”

he turned his head to the side and looked at you.

“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”

you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.

“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”

he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.

your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”

you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.

“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”

you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”

“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.

“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.

“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”

your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”

“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”

“y/n!”

you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”

“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”

“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”

“i can definitely see why!”

he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”

yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.

“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”

“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”

“i don’t know!”

“well call megumi over—”

suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.

“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”

yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.

“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.

megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.

“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”

you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.

he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”

“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.

you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.

you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.

the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.

you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.

“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.

“me neither.”

“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.

“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”

you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”

the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“it’s okay. i trust you.”

you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.

“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.

your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”

he hummed, “how come?”

“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”

“i have a sweet tooth.”

your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”

“you’re not?”

“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”

megumi liked how much you talked.

“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.

you nodded. “have you?”

“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”

met his dad?

megumi spotted your confusion and continued.

“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”

your eyes softened.

“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”

“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.

he nodded. “i do.”

he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”

you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.

“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.

“i love it.”

you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.

“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”

he nodded.

“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”

“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”

you giggled.

“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”

you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”

you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”

megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.

“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.

everyone thinks he’s rude.

your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”

he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”

you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”

you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.

you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.

“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.

megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.

“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.

his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.

you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.

your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.

and then you pulled away with a wet pop.

“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”

what?

megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.

he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”

“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”

megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”

“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.

megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.

“y/n.”

you stopped. “what.”

he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”

“helpless and a creep.”

he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”

he stood and offered his hand out for you.

“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”

megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.

you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.

you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.

you kissed megumi fushiguro.

“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”

“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”

your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”

“that was for stability! he—”

“no it was to feel you up!”

you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—”

“y/nnnn!”

as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—

and he couldn’t find you.

this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.

except you never did.

and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.

“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.

“hi.”

he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”

megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”

she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”

“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”

“because—” she stammered. “well because—”

“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.

“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.

“i don’t know!”

“let’s just tell him!”

“but what if!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”

your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.

“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.

“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.

so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.

and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—

but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.

and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.

and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?

and it was all because of you, you realized.

you made him upset.

you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.

“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”

“i can take a wild guess.”

she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”

she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.

most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.

just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.

“y/n.”

you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.

megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.

“h—hi-”

“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”

your eyebrows furrowed.

“what?”

megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”

he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”

your eyes bulge out of their sockets.

fall?

“you what?—”

“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.

“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”

you fidgeted.

“i— i was doing it for you—”

“why for me? i never said—”

the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.

“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”

“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”

“no but—”

“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”

“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.

“so?”

“and i’m a loser.”

he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.

“no you’re not you big dummy.”

he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.

“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”

he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.

“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”

he nodded, head still hung.

“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”

“way fucking more,” he mumbled.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.

you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.

“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.

“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.

“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”

he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”

he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.

“you’re so dense y/n…”

megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”

“the party?” you murmured.

he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”

your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.

since the party?

it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.

you were so fucking stupid.

your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.

“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”

you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.

“don’t be.”

“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”

“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”

you held him tighter.

“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.

“hm?”

“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”

megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.

he gripped you tighter.

“did you?”

you nodded, “mhm.”

megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.

“what else do you like.”

you gripped the fabric of his uniform.

“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”

your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.

“what else.”

“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”

“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.

“more than anything.”

“what else do you like?”

you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”

he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”

you nodded, your heart hammering.

he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.

“you wanna see what else i can do?”

“what— what else?”

megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.

“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”

he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.

“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”

“i don’t fucking care.”

megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.

he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.

you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.

“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”

“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.

“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”

“g—gumi—”

“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.

the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.

“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.

if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?

they’d drop dead.

without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.

megumi was freaky.

your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.

“is— is everybody gone?”

“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.

“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”

he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”

you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.

he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.

“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.

you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”

“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”

“m—maybe in high school?—”

megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.

“thought you liked me.”

“i do!” you sputtered.

“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”

your hole clenched.

“that— that was before you!”

he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.

“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.

“and what about takuma, hm?”

you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”

“mhm. he was all over you.”

you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.

“i—”

“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”

he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.

“would you?”

“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”

“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”

“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”

“just me?”

megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.

“y—yes!”

he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.

“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”

“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”

he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.

“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”

“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.

you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.

“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”

your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.

“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”

megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.

you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.

megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.

he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.

“put these on baby,” he murmured.

you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.

“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.

he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.

“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”

“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”

megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“and so are you.”

and that you were.

you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.

your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.

“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”

he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.

the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.

without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.

one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.

megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.

but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?

megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.

————————————————————————

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month

Text

hourglass

in which spencer disappears from fem!reader's life entirely for three months, right as it seems they were finally about to make things official. when he comes back they reunite, all the while knowing things can't be the same as they were.

18+ (smut, angst) warnings/tags: oh god so many. NOT canon compliant in the slightest, i make shit up, softdom!spence, nipple stuff prob, fingering, oral f receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex, pet names, tara mentioned, depression, mentions of trauma cause its the prison arc duh, passing mentions of alcohol, mentions of spencer losing weight, reader mistakenly thinks spencer tried to kill himself BUT ONLY FOR A SECOND, where is diana reid, nobody knows or cares, probably filming glee, optimistic ending a/n: haven't posted smut in forever but this wip required it and the angst was so angsty i just had to finish it. it was started in jan or feb and subsequently added to and changed months apart and then edited so the writing quality varies from section to section which i apologize for. originally based on good guy by julia jacklin... also the odyssey by homer? can't really explain that one you'll just have to see for yourself anyway byeeee ilysm!!! PLS tell me if you liked it! or if you hated it! but preferably if you liked it! MWAH! wc <12k

It’s been about three months since you last saw Spencer Reid.

About three months since you had an early Valentine’s Day celebration (even though you weren’t a couple) complete with champagne (even though he doesn’t usually drink) and slow dancing (even though you swore you’d be terrible and he spent the first ten minutes laughing at you as you stepped on his toes.)

About three months since you finally settled your head on his shoulder and let the warbling vinyl carry you somewhere distant as the two of you danced slow circles on the parquet floor for what felt like hours.

You’d have liked him to stay later that night. You’d have liked him to stay all night if you were being honest with yourself, but at 11:45 he gently pulled away and told you he had to go.

“Curfew?” you joked, the corner of your mouth lifting a little and you hoped you were hiding your disappointment well.

“Actually, I’m going down to Texas for a few days to speak with one of the leading doctors in experimental Alzheimer's and dementia treatment. I’m going to see if he can get my mom into a clinical trial. I leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my god, that’s amazing, Spencer! What are you doing still here? You should be at home getting ready to go!”

A rosy blush stains his cheeks and he looks down at the ground, laughing that little self-deprecating laugh of his. It makes your heart dance to see him so happy, makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let him go so that he knows how much you absolutely adore him—but you settle for an affectionate squeeze where your hands have come to rest on his biceps.

“I wanted to see you tonight because I won’t be here for Valentine’s Day... but I still really wanted to spend it with you,” he admits meekly.

If before your heart was dancing, it is now melting.

The dreaded ‘what are we’ talk has been lurking in the dark corners of every conversation you have with each other lately—at least, in your mind it has. What you have with Spencer is not easily defined, and near impossible to explain to your friends—you act like a couple, you go out on dates, he introduces you to his team like you’re his girlfriend without ever putting it into so many words—but this validation that your pseudo-relationship might be evolving is better than any flowers he could have gotten you (although the peonies he brought will look very nice on your bedside table.)

“Four whole days... what will I do without you?” you whisper, brushing a hand along his face, and your chest aches with the heavy truth of it—despite the fact that he often is gone for stretches about that length. They don’t ever start to feel shorter.

“Well, you can start by reading that copy of The Odyssey I annotated for you.”

“Depressing,” you admit. “And a little ominous, considering you’re about to embark on a hero’s journey.”

“I think you’ll like this one,” he smiles.

You chew on your bottom lip, looking up at him as you think.

“Give me something to look forward to,” you say, earnestly.

“I—well, honestly, I just really want to kiss you and I’ve wanted to for a long time now and, you know, if that’s something you’re maybe also interested in then we could, uh, figure out a time to—”

“You want to kiss me?”

“Wh—you couldn’t tell?” Spencer says, like he can’t believe it.

As if on reflex, you lunge up and capture his lips with your own. It obviously catches him by surprise, but when you lower from your tiptoes he follows you, pulling you in closer and holding your face in his hands.

It’s too natural, too right, to be exhilarating. There’s no rush of adrenaline—it's more like stepping into a hot bath or warming your freezing hands at a fire. Like pieces clicking into place. It’s a relief.

You breathe into it, letting more and more of yourself melt against him. He keeps coming back to you deeper and deeper like a rising tide, and you want more than anything to keep getting closer to him—but then he stops. He stays close enough for you to breathe his air, but dodges your kiss gently before supplanting it with a gentle one to the corner of your mouth.

“I really have to go,” he breathes, before moving away from your mouth to kiss your forehead and speak softly against your skin. “If I don’t leave now I’ll be here all night.”

Which is exactly what you want, and the implication does little to make you want him less. But you care about him too much to be so selfish.

At some point, his hands found their way into your hair, and you gently grab his wrists.

“Incentive for you to come home.”

Nearly three months since that night.

At first when he stopped answering texts, you’d assumed he just had too much going on down in Texas. Which you could understand—you knew how stressful this situation with his mother was.

Even when four days came and went without even an alert from him that he was back in town, you thought, okay, maybe he’s been called away on a case. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s disappeared because of his work. But even then, he’d at least text you enough information so that you would know he was alive. Now, radio silence.

So you tried not to be clingy. You tried to act like an adult, to focus on school and your life outside of Spencer, but when Tara Lewis cancelled your weekly meeting due to an “unforeseen work-related emergency”you called her immediately. Tara was something of a mentor, and it was she who had connected you and Spencer to begin with. You had met the other members of his team by that point, yes, but none who you knew as well as Tara.

When she had informed you that Spencer had been arrested in Mexico and was now facing prison time for murder, you laughed.

Laughed until you realized her end of the line was silent.

Realized it was not at all a joke.

In a catatonic state of tranquility, you asked her for more details. Beyond assuring you of his innocence, she couldn’t (or more likely, wouldn’t) provide them. Asked where he was now. Asked all the right things that made sense to ask.

Then you hung up and had a panic attack because Tara said something about 25 years and you saw Spencer evaporate from your future like an apparition.

Slowly, you felt him evaporating from your past, too. Those memories from the night he left, became visions of you swaying with a ghost. Holding nothing but light between your hands as you kissed the peony air of your apartment.

He doesn’t want to see you, she had said into the phone one night, her tinny voice cutting in and out. You’re not on his list of approved visitors.

“You asked him about me?” you had whispered, curled up on top of your made bed in the dark.

I tried. I’m sorry. I’ll call you when I know more.

All your days melded together like a muddied smear of paint. Suddenly you felt you had nothing to look forward to. No anchor, no goal. Yes, a PhD... and then what?

The only thing that punctuated one 24 hour period from the next was the time you spent crying because Spencer was in prison and he didn’t want to see you and by the looks of things you may never see him again. When you weren’t crying, you were thinking about how your life was a big cosmic joke. An unfortunate statistical anomaly that didn’t mean anything to anyone else, and that you couldn’t do anything about.

That copy of The Odyssey, which wasn’t even bound and instead was a thick stack of printer paper organized by a single black clip, became something of a manifesto for you—a tome that your poured over, reading and re-reading each note in the margins, each word beautiful and imbued with meaning because you knew Spencer had selected every single one specifically for you. You traced the letters reverently, because in a way this was the last thing he had said to you—about Lattimore’s faith to the original text, Merrill’s strict use of dactylic hexameter, the stylings of Wilson and Lombardo, and how he thought you would enjoy Hammond’s prose just as much as he did.

Day by day it was becoming more prophetic than fictional, and you allowed yourself to sink into madness. You would rather be a deluded zealot than be nothing at all.

He didn’t want to see you.

He might as well have been dead, for all that you were grieving him. And you started to hate him, because he wasn’t dead, but wouldn’t do you the kindness of proving it. Like a festering wound, scratched open day after day so as not to ever heal, you had to live knowing he was less than an hour away. So no, you weren’t exactly over it. You lived day by day, waiting for the occasional call from Tara to keep you updated on Spencer, but either she didn’t want to share much about how he was doing, or he had specifically barred her from doing so, because she was always sparse on the personal side of things. That thought actually lifted your spirits, because it meant he was at least acknowledging your existence in some tiny way.

But your routine was becoming more regular, and so you staid on top of your classes and your non-Reid related meetings with Tara once a week, and you learned to dip your toes into existential dread and the oily black pool of depression every night without ever fully submerging yourself. You learned hope, because it was pretty much all you had, and the BAU had confidence that they would get Spencer out one way or another so you did too.

So you didn’t really think about it when you missed a couple of calls from Tara some evening in May. You were preparing for finals and had way too much on your plate academically to think about anything else which was a welcome relief so you fully embraced it. I’ll call her back tomorrow, you think, as you clean up from dinner before going back to the living room where your textbooks and papers are completely covering every available surface. Maybe I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life after school, but I’ll be damned if I don’t even make it that far.

Hours later, well into the night, you’d all but forgotten about the calls. A knock at the door takes you a bit by surprise, and you frown as you stand again, tugging your Georgetown sweatshirt down over your shorts as you shuffle to the entrance of your apartment. You’re not expecting anyone, so you crack the door, peering around the edge of it.

And you couldn’t even consider trying to hide that shaky inhalation of dead air when you see Spencer standing on the other side.

Surely you’re hallucinating.

Surely this man in front of you who looks like he just got back from a day of work didn’t spend three months in prison pretending you didn’t exist.

He looks the same. Hair a bit longer, maybe—and gaunter even more than is normal for him.

But it's him.

You can’t think about the apprehensive look on his face—you can’t think about the impossibility of him being here. You can’t think at all. Without your explicit permission, your body surges forward into his, and he’s real, and alive, and warm, and he is an anachronism in the hallway as he accepts everything you pour into the embrace, doesn’t flinch when you move your arms from around his waist to loop around his neck and back to his waist again with crushing force because you just can’t get him close enough.

“I’m sorry,” Spencer mutters into your hair, I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry, he keeps saying, rubbing your back as you try to find a solid grip on the sleek material of his suit—try to gather all the pieces of him, already afraid he might fall apart and float away again.

“You—dis—disappeared,” you hiccup after an eternity, pulling away enough to look up at his pretty face. Tears blur your vision and darken the front of his jacket, bending the florescent lights so they form a kind of halo above his head.

Through the surreal haze you can see his throat bob.

“I know.”

He knows?

You scoff.

“You have no fucking idea, Spencer. What the fuck is wrong with you? I—I'm—”

The hot anger is such a relief for a second, boiling the oceans of your despair into a wrathful, scorching fog, but as soon as you try to tell him how you feel, the barbed wire cuts into your throat again. You shove him away, skin burning where his hands had been.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks, hands hanging uselessly at his side. There’s that kicked puppy look about him—and it’s familiar, but now there’s more damage. You don’t know anything about his time in prison, you haven’t heard a damn thing, but beneath the glassy desperation in his eyes there is an unfathomable void that seems to be preventing him from being fully present—and you realize for the first time that he is different.

It chills you.

Before, you and Spencer shared everything. There wasn’t one part of his internal machinations that you didn’t understand, nothing you kept from each other. But as you study him now from a few feet away, you realize there might as well be a yawning chasm between the two of you.

He is so different.

Those eyes look deeper. No gears turning just behind the slashes of gold and brown anymore—only an endless dark corridor that goes places you will never go.

Gone is the perpetual boyish up-turn at the corner of his lips that always made him look slightly vacant in a way that you found incredibly amusing. Something you had been so fond of, even if you teased him.

He seems to have aged ten years—if not physically, then in demeanor. And now you feel like a little kid throwing a tantrum.

You cross your arms, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

You’re embarrassed. And pissed. And relieved. Everything is worse and better. You want to fall back into his arms, but you have been jarred by the revelation that this might not be the same Spencer. It might not be the same relationship. You have no idea where you stand.

He says your name gently, with so much familiarity you’re briefly jerked into the past. It makes you wish you could look up to find him as he was three months ago. Wish this was just a bad dream. But that’s not fair to him.

“Sorry,” you mutter, studying the grey carpet fibers instead of looking at him.

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says immediately, “you’re right. I don’t—” he clears his throat— “I’m being incredibly selfish. I shouldn’t have just shown up, I’ll just—I'll leave. I’m sorry.”

A silent moment passes.

You don’t look up as he turns and swiftly begins to move down the hall toward the stairway, leaving as quickly and silently as he had come, like a few bars of a song sighed in and away on a fleeting breeze.

Your bare feet are concretely planted, imagining him jogging down the steps and speed-walking away from your building—

And suddenly you’re sprinting after him, feeling like you might puke because Spencer was just here and you let him go again—and even though you’re still so mad and confused and hurt, the realization that he is leaving again makes the entire building spin and lurch.

“Wait!” You yell, almost wiping out as you run down the stairs and whip around corners in your slippery fucking socks. “Please, wait!”

The lobby is already empty as you spill out into it, and cold dread tightens around your neck like a fist as you shoulder your way through the double doors and right into Spencer.

“Please don’t leave again, you just—I'm sorry, I really need you to not go—” you blabber, lachrymose once more, gripping onto his forearms for dear life.

“I’m not going,” he breathes shakily. “I tried to leave because I think you were right and maybe I should and maybe it would be better for you but I can’t.”

“You can’t,” you agree, more sob than spoken word. He cups your jaw, then your cheeks, wiping tears and brushing away hair like he can’t figure out how to hold enough of you between his hands. The wild kaleidoscope of his eyes, bright and alive and real as he scans you desperately captures your attention enough to slow the tears to a trickle. He notices this and stares back, entranced.

A silent agreement is made, or maybe an inevitable fate is accepted—either way, something was set in motion three months ago and it matters to see it through. Spencer kisses you and you’re ready for it. You don’t need slow or tender. You need to feel how he feels. You need to know what he knows.

You sling your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer until you almost tip backward, chasing the bruising kiss even as you regain your footing. You want to drink him in and you do your best, breathing deeply as he kisses you deeper, backing you inside and toward the elevator.

“Is this okay?” he manages, only after blindly reaching for and mashing the up button on the wall panel.

Ideally it wouldn’t happen like this, but the world you live in obviously isn’t ideal and your personal situations as they coincide are far from ideal, so this is how it has to happen. But it’s hard to explain, and you’d rather not admit that this is so far from what you wanted for both of you and follow up with the fact that despite that you need him like you need water. So you don’t say a word as the metal doors slide open promptly. Instead you pull him in and let him press you to the chrome wall as he hits your floor button, and that very hand comes back to grab your ass like you didn’t think Spencer Reid capable of. It almost aches as his fingers dig into the flesh, but it’s a good ache because it means he’s real and he’s there.

You gasp as he hitches your leg up, arching into him. The shorts that you’re wearing leave very little to the imagination to begin with, but they become downright indecent like this.

Quickly the elevator stops and the doors hiss open. You don’t hesitate to pull Spencer by the hand down the hall. When you notice you left your door wide open, you don’t even care. Neither does he, apparently—once you’re inside he slams it shut, flipping the deadbolt while his eyes are glued to you like you’re already naked. Now Spencer is shameless in the way he drags his eyes over every curve, every place your clothes and hair are disheveled from his touch and eye-fucks you so obviously it makes your face warm. Three months ago Spencer would have at least been bashful about it when he met your eyes again, but this Spencer is far from apologetic as he pins you with his burning gaze once more. His hand stays stuck to the door like he’s holding himself back.

“Is this what you want?”

There’s an undercurrent of sorrow below the gravely arousal, like this isn’t what he wanted for the two of you either. But you’re both at the mercy of fate. This is all you have, and it might be all you can do for each other anymore. So you don’t need to say that, because he understands.

“Yeah. Yes, this is what I want.”

For just a second more he watches you from his place by the door, and there’s an unexpected softness to it. He looks at you the way he would have looked at you before. Like as long as he stays there he can entertain the idea of being that person again.

Need wins out quickly, though, and he surges forward. Immediately you’re caught in the riptide of him, helpless as he kisses you all the way to your bedroom.

He’s never been in here before. You find yourself glad it’s relatively clean—one of the pastimes you’d picked up in his absence was keeping everything tidy. It was something you could control.

A lamp glows at your bedside. You lean against the footboard of your bed, hands timidly behind your back and suddenly shy to have in him in your intimate space. Both of you set aside the heaving desperation long enough to catch your breaths, and for him to scan the room like he too is being forced to reconcile with the innate and unexpected intimacy of the moment. He cuts a harsh, dark gash in your sweetly decorated bedroom, radiating something wild and powerful and unsure of himself like a chained bull as he takes in the soft, pale bedding, the paintings and photos taped to the walls, the woven rug and the sheer drapery. His breathing slows as he studies it all—eyes eventually catching on something behind you. Looking is unnecessary. You’re sure he’s spotted the dried peonies in their ceramic vase. Or maybe the now worn stack of papers that is his Odyssey, marked up and soft around the edges from constant flipping-through.

Then Spencer looks at you, and that softness seeps in again. Along with something like... fear? Grief?

In some other universe your first time with Spencer is sweet and giggly and kind and he smiles at the decor in your room and looks around with wonder because it’s another way he gets to know you. It’s a different way to learn you from the inside.

You sense that he’s caught in between universes right now as well, painfully aware of what he would have given you that he can’t anymore.

He breathes your name like an apology, and foolishly you let a second go by in which you think he might offer you one. But he doesn’t. Not with his words, anyway. His eyes tell a different story.

“It’s fine,” you say unprompted on a whispered exhale, then a little louder as you push off the footboard, crossing the space until your hands are on his chest. You focus on his tie, not making eye contact as you rush to undo it. “It’s fine.”

He lets you do this for a few seconds before finally covering your trembling hands with his own. You still can’t meet his eyes.

“We don’t have to do—”

“No! No, please. I want to. I need—I need us to be okay.”

“Hey,” he murmurs, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. “We are okay. Me and you are fine.”

It’s a pretty thought, but it’s not true. In fact, it’s a hideous and abject affront to the truth. Sure, maybe you’re fine in comparison to last week. Maybe anything feels fine compared to an eight by six cell. But it would be impossible for you and Spencer, for your relationship, whatever that relationship may be, to be fine. It’s especially impossible for him to make that claim, after all he did or rather didn’t do while he was gone. What you need is for him to stay anyway. What you need is to find a way to be with him, to exist with him, even when you are so clearly not fine.

“I just need you to stay,” you whisper, and he’s already nodding, wide-eyed like he’d do anything for you. You ignore all the bitter venom rising in your throat. You pretend this isn’t all happening after he cut you out of his life with a dirty switchblade. Instead you focus on his hands on yours, the familiar smell of him, which invites you to let go of each and every thought and worry. He must’ve showered before coming here, you realize. How long has he been out? What happened?

“Okay. Okay, I can stay. What else can I do? How do I make it better?”

You sniffle and look back down.

“You can untie that for me.”

He hesitates, then nods some more, fingers working under yours to undo the tie around his neck.

“Okay.”

A moment goes by and after that final whispered word, the tension begins to build again. Spencer senses it in the way your fingertips linger on his chest and you step even closer, dragging them down to his belt. The metallic sound of it unbuckling, despite being your own doing, still manages to flip your stomach. How many times have you pictured this? When was the first time you realized you wanted it? You’re sure you haven’t stopped wanting it even once since then.

Spencer tosses the tie away and is shrugging off his jacket now, then before you see it coming he’s kissing you again, ducking down to do it. He feels taller this close up, and especially in your bedroom, where he just seems rather out of place. But you want him here. God, you want him here.

You break the kiss, forced to look down as you fumble with his belt.

“Sorry,” you gasp, embarrassed by your lack of dexterity. The light is barely sufficient to see what you’re doing, especially when he’s wearing black on black and your eyes are still bleary.

“You’re okay,” he assures you, and it’s so Spencer a fresh round of nerves electrifies the tips of your fingers. That thing is happening—the thing you’d hoped to avoid if you hadn’t lost momentum partway through, where you’re allowing your actual feelings for him to get in the way rather than getting swept up in the pathos of the moment and letting everything be easy and mindless. “Here, can I help you?”

But he doesn’t actually wait for an answer before he’s finishing off the belt for you, tugging it loose from his hips till it’s a leather coil in his hands. Your fingers brush the material and he lets you take it as if it were your prize. It’s heavier than you thought it’d be, and you just feel the weight of it in your hands for a moment, your dropped head brushing his chest.

You have a terrible feeling that if you do this now, it doesn’t mean everything will be alright. Because it can’t just go back to normal. Spencer has told you nothing of what must be an enormous trauma, and you haven’t spoken about it at all, but you sincerely doubt that after this he’s going to be ready to just jump into that committed relationship the two of you had been toying with for months before his absence. You’re almost... scared of him, now. Scared of where he’s been and what he’s endured—things you’re sure you couldn’t have taken. What that does to a person, you can’t imagine. He seems so solid and real in front of you now—but you know that’s not always enough. Maybe you’re just scared that somehow whatever he’s been through will have made him care for you less. That you were too far removed from the whole ordeal, and now you’ll never understand. If you could understand, maybe you could fix it for him. Maybe he’d stick around.

Still—even if you do end up pushing him further away in the long run—won't it have been worth it to have had him so completely, even just once?

You toss the belt to the ground, compressing all of these very complicated thoughts and feelings into a few seconds so short he can’t ask you any questions about them. Instead you find his top button, and just as you manage to undo it with relative ease he’s gently grabbing your wrists. You look up at him, immediately surrendering.

“If we’re going to do this I need you to relax a little bit.”

Gears grind in your chest. You feel need and anxiety comingling in every square inch of your body. It’s a sick buzz—a high on an empty stomach.

“I can’t,” you admit.

“Yeah, you can,” Spencer gently disagrees, slowly lowering your hands. When he’s sure you’re not going to try ripping his clothes off again, he releases, and his eyes lower to the zipper of your hoodie. His fingers follow, warm against the soft triangle of revealed skin at your chest as he grips the small piece of metal between barely shaking fingers. “You can.”

You match his eyeline, breathing shallowly and watching as he slowly drags the zipper down. You wonder if that sound has haunted his fantasies the way the sound of his belt has haunted yours. If he’s seen this hoodie on you and wondered what’s underneath, staring at you and daydreaming during movie night with you none the wiser.

Both of you have your eyes glued to the span of skin as the zipper parts. Spencer stalls with the zipper at your sternum, just below the band of your bra.

Right. No shirt.

You look up and find his eyes already on you, tinged with a curious kind of humor.

“I wasn’t expecting guests.”

The words come out shy. Spencer’s chuckle has its own nervous airy quality as he resumes tugging on your zipper, leaning down until your noses bump.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

Then he kisses you again, a little sweeter now. Sweet enough to give you butterflies and for them to flutter right out of your stomach and spill from your lips in a little whimper against his.

It comes as a surprise when he pushes the fabric from your shoulders without looking or asking. Not that you’d have said no—you're just underprepared for how assertive he is in this foreign context.

Left just in your flimsy shorts and your thin bra, you feel quite exposed—but Spencer’s hands are as demanding and hungry as his mouth. They skim up your sensitive sides and sweep lower, suggesting less proper placement over your ass and pulling at your bottoms until you gently put a stop to their wandering.

“Wait. We’re... we’re uneven.”

It’s a struggle to get any words out at all when he keeps chasing your lips, nipping at you like he physically can’t stand not kissing you, but they catch his attention and he laughs airily, pulling back to let his gaze pour over your less clothed form. It lingers and catches and lights you up everywhere it touches, drops of heat soaking into your skin and making you feel all fuzzy and needy.

“We are,” he acknowledges, tone low and colored with the faintest smile. “You’re a lot prettier without your clothes on than I am.”

“I don’t believe you.”

The challenge comes immediately and thoughtlessly. Spencer’s golden eyes flash up to yours. He’s breathing a little harder than usual.

“You want me to show you what I mean?”

If that means getting him naked, then yes, absolutely.

You nod, but rather than immediately stripping, he takes your hand and holds his own open next to it. A thick pink scar bisects some pretty significant palmistry lines, but you don’t mention that. Instead you swallow—your thoughts, your words, your nausea.

“That’s new.”

You wonder how you hadn’t noticed it earlier.

He nods.

“A lot is new.”

It sounds almost like he’s challenging you—there's a kind of tremulous force in his voice, despite the perpetual softness there, like he’s inviting you to say it’s ugly. And you realize he’s referring to more than just the glowing scar cutting an asteroid trail against the flesh of him palm. The scars he obtained in prison must form a constellation over his body.

“I don’t care. I wanna see you.”

Spencer swallows, cupping your face with the scarred hand once more. You can’t feel it against your cheek but you know it hasn’t gone away.

“I’m sure you think you do,” he permits, and that’s where the conversation ends for the moment—with his hand on your face and his lips back on yours. “For now why don’t you let me worry about you?”

Obediently, you breathe, “okay.”

This is, for whatever reason, amusing to him. The brief levity dies as quick as it comes like a snuffed-out brush fire as soon as he lets his hands fall back down to your hips.

“I want... I want to give you slow. But...”

But slow is for people who didn’t lose three months of their life. Slow is for people who don’t know what it’s like to be starving. Slow is not for the desperate.

You understand the feeling.

“I don’t need slow.”

You’ll let him use you up like quick-burning fuel if that’s what he needs. You’ll go as fast and as bright and as hot as he tells you.

“But you want slow,” he murmurs, a secret acknowledged into your own waiting mouth. You’d keep it there forever. You could be the object he hides his soul in. “I know you do. You deserve to get what you want.”

“I can go fast. I want whatever you can give me.”

Spencer’s shuddering exhale is like a drug, dizzying as you inhale it and your eyes flutter at the high, pressed head-to-head with him. For so long you’ve needed him so badly. It’s overwhelming to have him now, all over you. If only your walls could breathe him in the way you are, if this room could remember what it feels like to hold him the way you will, if any inanimate object could bear witness to how you’ll give yourself, any part of yourself, over to him, so willingly.

“I’m going to try.” Spencer’s voice is hoarse as he walks backward to the bed, taking you by the hips as he goes. “I want to do it right. I want to do this the way I... the way I imagined it, before...”

Now he’s sitting, and you’re standing between his legs as he finds the clasp of your bra and undoes it, his fingers a comforting pressure where they ghost down the slope of your back. Your heart is pounding at the confession, at the way his tongue darts over his bottom lip and his fingertips journey back up to your straps, looking up at you with haloed irises as if he’d find anything other than the most dangerous kind of smoldering devotion in your eyes—the kind cult-leaders seek and spend years nurturing, and he’d earned with a mere brush over your bare skin.

The fabric slides down your arms, and as it falls to the floor, you watch something like despair flash-flood his eyes. It is a deep, distinctly human grief. The ineffable kind where something is almost too beautiful; so perfect it offends the mortal senses because it should be permanent, but nothing is, and the clash of divine beauty with unstoppable time which oxidizes copper and covers marble with vine is almost as grotesque as metal rending delicate flesh. It is the grief that drove the first poet to write and the first parents to press their baby’s painted hands to the walls of a cave. It is the desire to do the impossible—to capture ephemeral perfection and make it eternal, and the knowledge that it is hopeless. You recognize it because you’ve felt it for him.

“I thought about you all the time,” he whispers, doesn’t bother calling you beautiful but you don’t mind because he’s telling you with his hands and his eyes and the waver of his voice. “When I was gone, I thought about you—”

You’re just as quiet, just as soft.

“Don’t, Spencer.”

He doesn’t get to tell you about when he was gone. Not now. Not after he acted like you didn’t exist.

“Okay.” He swallows the things he’d wanted to tell you like you choked on the things you needed to tell him for three months. “I’m sorry.”

But his hands—his hands are perfect over your waist and his lips are perfect where they kiss your ribs like they’re his homeland. You could forgive a thousand wrongs for each kiss he puts to your skin. Light from the full moon stretches over the room like a blessing from the cosmos, and you have every intention of making the most of that gift, how the silver gilds the planes of his face and highlights curls like they were carved, and invites you to search for something in each shadow.

Some of his kisses land over the sensitive skin of your breasts though you doubt he has much intention or that there is any sort of end-goal with the trail he blazes—in fact, you have to root your hand in his hair and pull gently back when he doesn’t seem to realize that he’s making you wait again. His eyes are glassy and cheeks slightly pinkened—you weren’t expecting this wave of fondness to knock you on your ass but here you are, falling all over again.

“You don’t have to go that slow.”

A slow smile splits the heart of his mouth at your bashful tone and he’s emboldened to bring his hands higher for a moment, thumbs brushing particularly delicate though not downright indecent spots. Nonetheless, your breath catches.

“Impatient girl,” he scolds, and though it’s lighthearted it still inspires heat to dance across your face. Oh, I think I’ve been plenty patient, you itch to say, but you bite it back because it’s only sad and true and unkind.

Still, he gives you the beginning of what you want, really only the tip of the enormous iceberg that is your desire for him, by slipping his thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down. His hands slide up the fronts of your thighs, tracing the trim of your underwear, and you’d swear he’s not even breathing. The moment one of his hand loops behind your knee and pulls forward until it’s pressed to the mattress and you’re half-kneeling, half standing, desire begins to truly cloud your mind. Manhandling never seemed like Spencer’s style, but when paired with how softly he reveals your hip, pulling gently down on the fabric of your underwear just to admire you up close, you don’t mind it.

More kisses are littered over your stomach, and he takes you by surprise a second time with a quick maneuver landing you on your back and him on top of you.

“I wasn’t doing you justice with my imagination,” he murmurs against your mouth. “I couldn’t have known.”

“Couldn’t have known what?” you pant as he shamelessly digs his fingers into the plush of your ass. You almost hope it bruises.

“How pretty you would be,” he coos like he means it, and you dissolve, slipping through his fingers like sand in an hourglass. “You were holding out on me.”

It’s a tease, not at all serious, but you manage to hit him with a, “Was not, asshole,” and he chuckles, placating your little hurt with another sticky kiss, and you get another disorienting glimpse of some other timeline where you’re both a little less damaged. Where it’s a little easier.

But in this timeline, his touch becomes starving and ragged and urgent, and you accept the drag of his thumb up your thigh and between your legs, gasping when he runs his knuckles up the center of you. This touch is metal on screeching metal. It does not pretend to be anything more than what it is—brute, powerful, executed to elicit sensation. You get the sense that Spencer’s never touched anyone this honestly, and while you do envy the girls who got to have him gentler, you’ll take this as the compliment that it is. A kind of vulnerability that is nearing primal.

His lips, though—always his lips—are kind when they brush and land on your skin guided by some invisible map. A dip down your neck and chest and then a plunge, his tongue dragging over your hips, chasing the fabric of your underwear as he almost pulls it off and then reroutes, making room for himself between your legs and pushing lace aside to mark the hinge of your inner and upper-most thigh. Your chest heaves and you don’t dare move for fear he’ll stop leaving signs of himself on your body and you won’t be able to reassure yourself that it was real and he was here and it was not another dream.

Because something in you knows, if only consciously recognizing it for the first time now, that he will disappear again. That this may be your only chance.

The desire to make the ephemeral eternal. An impossibility.

He’s clearly losing himself to something, eyes shutting blissfully. You wonder when the last time he let his guard down even a little was. You’re okay with being the thing he gets lost in, even if you’re not exactly okay with him—something you are becoming more acutely aware of as each touch makes a part of you want to cry. Maybe you still have some things in common. A strange pain that doesn’t quite feel like it belongs to you, for one thing.

You slam back into your body as his nose nudges against you through fabric, and his lips catch on cotton as he drags himself up, eventually settling a kiss against the little bow at the waist of your underwear. There he stays, eyes closed, mouth pressed to you.

“Is this okay?”

You swallow, buzzing. Is this really what he wants? After everything?

“You don’t have to...”

“But is it okay with you?”

Nothing more than an airy whisper, you reply, “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

Being emotional at this point seems wrong, but it’s difficult to ignore the fact that you have thought about this before and it’s finally happening but it’s not exactly as you’d imagined it. There is an indelible sadness to it, to the way he’s so hungry for you because he’s been deprived, to the desperation with which he touches you because he’s had everything taken from him.

For a moment, before he tugs your underwear down, he pauses, and you wonder if he’s freezing one moment in time, this moment, and grieving all the other ways it could’ve been, and accepting that this is the way it is going to be. You are.

These higher realms of thought abandon you as he finally pulls the last barrier down your legs and encourages you to spread them further. You don’t have time or energy to be embarrassed, not even by his staring, or the way his eyes dart up to yours and back down again, wide and shining, as if to say, have you seen yourself? Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?

All you feel is the lack of him on you, the pull to have him closer so strong it’s almost sickening because he could be gone at any second. Maybe he understands that because he doesn’t waste anymore time before he’s kissing the most sensitive part of you. The drag of his tongue has you loosing a shuddering cry.

His mouth wanders, making connections you wouldn’t have realized the value of until you feel them on your skin. Your hips buck as he traces you and you’re unable to stop yourself from tangling your hands in his hair. Speech fails you—hell, you can hardly breathe as you watch his with a furrowed brow and parted lips, only expelling air from your lungs in the form of little cries and gasps and failing to hold your hips down to the bed.

The tip of his tongue teases around your entrance and he catches your leg as your foot rises off the bed, slinging it over his shoulder and consuming you more fervently until you have no choice but to moan though you’ve never been one for theatrics. Nobody has done this for you like he’s doing it for you. Locks of hair fall in front of his face and you hold them back for him, shuddering as he shifts his weight and presses the tip of his finger to your cunt.

“Ah—please,” you manage, your first words since he started. Spencer groans against you and the sound is so wonderfully unexpected, so much better than in your dreams. You cant your hips up in further invitation, chirping as he takes it, pushing two fingers into you at once. Your eyes screw shut and you bite back a whine at the slight stretch, unconsciously writhing your hips either to get further away or take him deeper, you’re not sure.

Spencer pulls back, kissing your hips and thighs and pumping his fingers very slowly as you adjust.

“’M sorry,” you pant, “it’s been awhile, I...”

“Don’t apologize,” Spencer says like it’s simple, his own breath coming quicker. “How’re you feeling? Need me to stop?”

“No! No, it feels really good, I feel good.”

He holds your burning gaze, matching it with his own, and his hair is tousled and his cheeks are flushed as he continues to move his hand.

“Yeah?”

“...Yeah.”

This little show of obedience, of call and response, has him smiling before he occupies his mouth with something else once more. It’s a different smile than you’re used to from him, but you decide you don’t at all mind it.

Like that, with his tongue and fingers working tirelessly, your orgasm comes on quickly. The feeling is rare but not entirely foreign, and in that brief moment of utter disconnect between your brain and reality, of sheer white-hot pleasure, you don’t feel you’re missing out on anything at all. How could you be, when you are here and Spencer is here and for a moment all your neurons are lighting up and flashing neon? How could there be anything more to life than the searing feeling of him slowly withdrawing his fingers from you, than your hips between his hands like he’s cradling the world, and his lips, indiscriminate with where they kiss because every part of you is worthy of attention?

You’re reeling, and your legs are gelatinous as he so affectionately sucks the darkest mark yet onto your inner thigh like a parting gift, like he’s signing his trembling work. If you could clamp your legs shut around the almost painful aftershocks you would, but he’s climbing back up your body, so all you can do is wriggle against him and release delayed, stunted little moans. He stops to kiss your neck before he makes it to your mouth and drinks down all your sounds until you’re gentle and pliant for him like you haven’t been yet.

His voice is soft and sympathetic when he speaks. “Better?”

Wordlessly you nod, both comforted and unsettled by how well he knows you. What, exactly, has been made better, you’re not sure. Not trust. You don’t trust him anymore. Something cheaper, but temporarily effective. A sense of permanence, maybe, however fleeting it may be. You’ve completed something with him now, and he’s still here, still sweet.

He looks into your eyes, then, for a moment—and there is just enough light in the room for you to tell yourself that the shadows dancing there as he looks at you are love.

They morph as you watch into haunting, wild hunger. Pained even now.

He sits up abruptly and so do you, scooting back against your headboard and pulling your knees to your chest to protect your pounding heart as Spencer takes you in with darting eyes and quick breaths. His fingers find the collar of his shirt and he begins to unbutton.

“I need you to remember it’s all going to heal.”

He swallows, and you hardly have the wherewithal to study the way he unbuttons his shirt, a way he exists in the world that you had previously not been privy to. The words are too distracting.

“What?”

Sometimes he reminds you of a deer, with those big brown eyes that can’t help betraying anxiety. Moreso in those old pictures he’d shown you from his early days at the BAU—but it shines through occasionally even now. It’s reassuring to know that something inside of his has remained soft.

“Just...” his fingers don’t stop at their task, and you come to the disturbing realization that his knuckles are bruised. “Please don’t freak out, alright?”

Your mouth goes dry, eyes glued to the lengthening span of revealed skin.

And before he even has his shirt fully undone, something isn’t right.

He’s like a Pollack of bruises—starbursts and watercolor blots of discoloration blooming over his side and stomach.

You’re glad the light is off for two reasons: one, being that you don’t think you could handle the bruising in all its glory, and two, you hope the look of horror painted on your face is at least partially obscured from Spencer.

But you can’t. You simply don’t have the gas in the tank to freak out, as he’d said—at least not externally. Those bruises shouldn’t be there, but 96 days is a long time to be gone.

You drag your eyes back to his—nervous, deeply insecure and mistrustful. A deer. Just like those pictures of a 24 year old Spencer in an FBI jacket that was too big for him.

It’s enough to have you scooting on your knees across the mattress to him. Those big eyes stay glued to you as you draw near, falling as you carefully push open his shirt, cautious not to bump any tender spots as it falls to the bed. A flash of white gauze wrapped around his forearm that makes your stomach flip. How? You want to ask. Why?

He doesn’t seem to know what you’re going to do, and neither do you, until you’re grabbing his hands, bruised knuckles and all, and just... holding them for a minute.

“I lost weight,” he says quietly, as if that’s the most shocking thing about his current appearance, though it is noticeable.

“You’re still pretty.”

He smiles at this—a true Spencer Reid smile. Flattened lips, eyes tinged silver with sadness, voice quiet and anxious and wavering.

“I didn’t have a lot to spare.”

A moment goes by.

“I’m not going to ask you about them,” you promise, though you care so much and you want to know but you already understand that he won’t want to tell you.

Another moment. It doesn't surprise you to watch the shiny vulnerability in his eyes to freeze over completely. But he squeezes your hands once in thanks, and you know it’s still the same Spencer.

“Lie down.”

Oh. Right.

This.

You do as he says, taking a deep breath to try and exhale the concern twisting your stomach like a poison. Somehow your room feels so unfamiliar, so new with him in it. Even the whorls on your ceiling look different as you study them, trying to time the pattern of your breathing with the pattern of the paint and plaster and not let the sound of Spencer further undressing quicken your heartrate too much.

Soon he’s coaxing your legs apart again, reverently, and kneeling between them, studying every part of you—lingering not on the parts you’d expect. He traces the scar on your knee with his thumb, follows a line down your thigh to the freckle on your hip. The scrutiny is unnerving and warms you everywhere. Perhaps he senses the microscopic clench of your thighs as you imagine pushing them together, if he weren’t in the way.

“You alright?” He asks, still stroking your hip. Tender again. It’s so hard to keep up.

“I...”

Suddenly your heart beat is a deafening echo in your own ears. The tide of your breathing is too powerful, too in and out and whooshing, leaving you always too empty or too full but never comfortable.

Maybe he’s changed, and he’s harder to know now, but he is the same Spencer. He is the Spencer you’d fallen in love with. The hard part is knowing that now you may never get a chance to tell him that. You don’t know if he’d be able to hear it.

There are things you can’t have with him anymore. Not now, at least. Maybe not ever. But you can have this. It will be different, but you’d rather him be different and here than the same and only in your memory.

You swallow.

“I’m good.”

Tangling your hand in his hair once more, you pull him down into a kiss. It’s hesitant, at first—maybe he can taste your thoughts, where they’d been balancing just on the tip of your tongue. But the uncertainty fades and he kisses you deeper, harder, in a way that is hard to keep up with. You like the messy overwhelm of his lips, teeth, tongue. That’s the only way he knows how to want you.

When you go to wrap your leg around his waist he catches it, running his hands over the soft plush of your thigh. The hard line of him presses against you like memory foam and you gasp and he breathes it in deeply as your brain short-circuits, as you realize this is really going to happen, that you’re going to have him like you’ve never had him before and in ways you’ve only imagined and immediately felt ashamed for.

“Spencer,” you whisper. He ducks to leave open-mouthed kisses along your neck and your eyes flutter shut, craning your neck but not losing sight of your objective as you reach down blindly. When you find what you’re looking for he freezes, groans against your neck at the same time as you breathe the tiniest whimper. Just in your hand he feels impossible, hot and imposing and hard. Your heart palpitates.

Without thinking, you angle your hips up and encourage him closer, until the tip of him is smearing through your folds, and you both go utterly silent like the breath had been stolen right from your lungs. The moment crystallizes, time around you hardening like preserved amber to keep you frozen there forever.

And then he rolls his hips, catching the underside of his cock on the crux of you, and then he does it again, and you choke out a moan and so does he, and it’s beyond perfect—it's nirvana, more than you could ever have conceived of, with his weight pressing you into the mattress, arms caging you in, his heavy breaths hot against your neck and vice versa as you twine together like serpents on a rod, your foot floating in the air as you widen your legs to make more room for him.

And you’re not even fucking yet.

“Oh my god,” you whine, just for him, barely audible under the heavy cloak of night, the thickened air in your bedroom and the sound of panting and fabric shifting. It’s like your heart is trying to reach through your chest to his own where they’re pressed together—that is how hard it’s beating.

Spencer only breathes a long, low curse and shifts so he can grasp himself. Your fingers drift down the shaft of him as he slots himself at your entrance, notching half an inch in and you hold your breath, and you brace yourself—and then he’s kissing you again, but gentler this time. Reassuring. You soften, you can’t not, releasing all your air in a soft gust through your nose, and then he’s pushing in.

Your lips part at the stretch as it fuzzes your mind, but he stays right there, nose pressed to your nose, lips ghosting over your own. He’s not going anywhere, you think, and you’re glad for it, when it burns ever so slightly, and the tiniest whine escapes your open mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes immediately, low and soft, only fractionally louder than you had been. “You’re okay.”

Spencer. Your Spencer.

For a moment, you’re living in that alternate universe. The kinder one. The flash of pain you feel then has nothing to do with the way he’s opening you up.

This is the closest you have ever been, and in some strange way, the furthest apart.

Together, fingers brushing, you guide him until he settles at not quite your deepest point. You can feel that he’s not giving you everything yet, but you’re okay with that, as you adjust to the full feeling. Spencer again senses your desire to close your legs against the deep intrusion, and gives you the best he can by encouraging you to wrap your legs around him.

“Good girl,” he whispers tenderly, nudging at your jaw with his nose and dragging kisses along the ridge of it. Your stomach flips at the moniker and your brain turns to warm sludge as your eyes flutter shut. It makes you feel all light-headed and you flutter around him. Spencer chuckles into the junction of your neck and shoulder and the vibrations send a chill down your arching spine. “I thought you might like that one.”

“Mhm.”

“Mhm. How are you? You okay?”

“’M ready.”

“You’re ready?” His tone is dripping sarcasm and faux-disbelief as he pulls back the slightest bit only to push right back in deeper, this time. Your toes curl, one thigh sliding higher up his waist as you cling to him.

“Fuck,” you manage, a pitiful, high pitched curse tossed to the wind. He echoes the sentiment.

“Oh, my god,” he groans, continuing with that slow pace, “you feel so good, angel.”

You grapple at his back, searching for purchase as your brow knits. “Faster.”

This inspires another breathy chuckle, but he obliges, and you cry out softly. It’s almost unreal, your head buried against his neck, drunk on his scent and the drag of him like a shock felt in the far reaches of your body, again and again.

There’s nothing you can say that will accurately demonstrate what you’re feeling, so you elect not to speak, to remain silent and try to get a grip on this cacophony of sensation and emotion. But it’s too much to be alone with. You feel you have to get it out, to seek understanding. You can’t do it alone.

“Spencer.”

“Hm?”

“I don’t know...” the sentence trails off into a gentle keen. He moves to kiss you, speaking against your lips.

“You don’t know?”

Shyly you shake your head. Spencer sighs wistfully.

“Do you know how much I missed you?”

It’s like he can sense your need for comfort. For something grounding.

And while this topic was off-limits earlier—you're softer now. The stone walls that form your boundaries have been chipped away and lowered.

Spencer continues unprompted.

“I thought about you every day. Every night while I was falling asleep. You were always on my mind, angel girl.”

You whine. Whether it’s pleasure or distress is anyone’s guess—including your own.

“You were gone so long,” you whisper, eyes shut.

At this, Spencer slows again, and the tension that was building settles back to a simmer.

“I know. I wish I could—I wish I could change that. But I’m here, okay? I’m right here with you.”

Then he makes sure you feel every last inch, and it takes your breath away. If your thoughts were any more coherent, they’d be something along the lines of: but for how long? How long until you leave again?

“You’re here.”

You say it like a mantra, once out loud, and then again and again in your head, timed with every clash of your hips. With each repetition he becomes more real. Every little ache, every tingling, head-emptying brush against that most sensitive spot inside proves to you that he could not be any closer. This can’t be faked. It can’t be another dream to wake up in tears from.

“You’re here,” you gasp as it hits you, as it truly sinks in.

“I’m here,” he breathes.

There’s so much you want to say—three months of words you need him to hear, of things you need to talk to him about, things you need to yell at him for and things you can only say crying in his arms and things you can only say laughing or whispering or drunk or half-asleep—and in this moment you can’t manage any of it. Every word condenses into one drop of salt water, drifting away from your eye and down your cheek. Spencer doesn’t tell you to stop crying. He only kisses the tear away, and murmurs I’m here I’m here I’m here over and over again against your skin until he’s not even speaking it out loud anymore. But you feel it. With every brush of his lips, every breath, every movement, you feel it.

Soon he’s adjusting his angle, gradually picking up the pace but retaining that unforgiving depth, and your nails bite into the skin of his back as your jaw drops. Spencer hisses, pressing impossibly closer.

“I’m sorry!” you squeak.

“Do it again.”

“Wh—what?”

“Please,” he begs, low and hot against your jaw, just beneath your ear. “Do it again, honey.”

Honey.

You’d do anything for him if it meant he calls you that again.

When he shifts his weight to one arm and reaches down between your bodies to play with your aching clit in exactly the right way, you don’t really have a choice. You arch and moan wantonly enough to feel embarrassed as your nails scratch down his back. At the same time he’s making noises of his own, and you almost feel guilty for marking him up like this only you think he likes it. The most perfect and troubling tension is building in your core, so taut you almost fear the inevitable rebound when it snaps. But you’re driven to be exactly what Spencer needs right now, and to let him try and be what you need. Even if it scares you. Even if you’re not sure how.

Spencer groans, head tucked to the bend of your shoulder. “I’m not gonna last.”

Any response you might’ve been about to muster is annihilated by a sudden, deep bolt of pleasure.

“’M gonna cum,” you mewl like it’s a secret.

“Are you?” he asks, coming up breathless. If your eyes were open, you’re sure you’d see him above you.

“Mhm.”

“Look at me. Look at me.”

It is unmistakably a command—one you fight to follow.

You cry out as you meet the intensity of his gaze, those shadowy corridors suddenly ablaze and alive. They are not unending, like you’d thought. They are a door thrown open to let the light in, or maybe to let the fire out. They’re open in this moment for you.

No more words are spoken after that—you cum hard, gasping as you fall and spin. Spencer follows very shortly after, like he was holding it together just for you, and your eyes are still locked though everything is a bit bleary.

“Fuck,” you whine as he continues to fuck you for as long as he can, despite your writhing hips, but you’re entranced by him, unable to look away now that you’re hooked. Until he slows to a halt, glances down at your mouth, and you just have time to pray that he’ll kiss you before he does. You whimper against his lips—a plea for understanding. A plea for him to stay, even though this is over. He kisses back so soft and sweet it’s like he can read your mind. Echoes of I’m here I’m here I’m here still buzz across your skin. His eyelashes tickle your cheek. Your heart stops beating quite so quickly, melting and warm like the rest of your body.

Soon the kissing ceases and you’re just breathing together, trapped and faced with the knowledge that it must end just the same as you had waited for it to start.

Eventually the air between you becomes mostly carbon dioxide and you let your head fall to the side, dizzy and giggling breathlessly as you nearly avoid asphyxiation. Spencer laughs too, letting his head fall to your shoulder once more, and you finally let your eyes flutter closed. To do something as simple as laugh with him again is its own small euphoria. It’s unexpected, and a soft landing once all that tension breaks underneath your combined weight.

It can’t last forever, you know that well. But the slow fade of it makes the next parts a little easier.

Spencer presses a kiss to your neck. “Is your bathroom through that door?”

You hum a confirmation and are only slightly disheartened when he pulls out and rolls off of you. You’re further disturbed when you see there’s gauze around his thigh, matching what’s around his arm, and you wonder how you missed that. Spencer scoops up his clothing and disappears into the adjoining restroom, assuring you he’ll be right back and leaving you alone with your thoughts and the whorls on the ceiling which have seemingly shifted into entirely new constellations.

He leaves the door cracked which is oddly reassuring—the sliver of warm light and the sound of the sink running. Only a few moments pass before he’s returning clad in boxers once more to sit on the edge of the bed, pushing away the sheet you’d just pulled over your chest and pulling one of your legs over his lap. Your face warms as he brings a washcloth between your thighs. As soon as he glances up at you and catches your eye you’re looking back to the ceiling.

“I should’ve asked first,” he says quietly as he cleans up the mess he’d made of you.

You speak just as softly, like you’re both afraid of disturbing some peace, of waking some sleeping giant. “It’s okay. I would’ve told you if I didn’t want it.”

His reticence, his unreadable face, make you nervous.

When he’s done, he rises to toss the dirtied cloth in the laundry bin, and with his back to you (as scratched up as it might be) you feel braver.

“Are you gonna, like... hate me now?”

It was a mistake. That’s clear by the way he turns around, brow knit deeply and grimacing slightly like even the suggestion offends him.

“Am I going to hate you?”

Again you pull the sheet up, and again you look away, studying the pattern of moonlight stretching out over the floor and scooting to make room for him when he steps in it.

“Not hate, I just...” the bed dips beside you and you are indescribably glad he’s not immediately running out the door. “I’m not dumb. I know what this was.”

He pulls you into him and you settle against his chest. It feels good. “I never thought you were dumb.”

This is your first real conversation since he’s gotten back, you realize. And how quickly you’re falling into familiar patterns, familiar syntactical beats. You know when to speak. You know when to bite your tongue and keep him talking.

The silence goes on longer than you’re used to. Maybe he got good at not speaking while he was away.

Eventually your eyes wander, falling to the white strip over his thigh where it is parallel to yours on the bed, only over the sheets.

“What happened?”

You said you wouldn’t ask, but that was then, and you’re upset again. You almost want to hurt him. To piss him off. You don’t know.

But it doesn’t work.

“Do you really want to know?” There’s a note of something heavy in his voice, and you look up at him. It’s a privilege to have him this close—his beauty is a constant surprise that you’d become unaccustomed to over the months. You say nothing, and he takes that as the yes that it is. “I... I did it to myself.”

He may as well have reached down your throat and grabbed for fucking heart for all its clenching. Tears well almost immediately, though they’ve been waiting in the wings all night.

“What? Did you—were you trying to—”

His eyes widen.

“No! No, honey, no.” You wilt as he gathers you closer, a deeply confused frown still contorting your features, too heartbroken even to cling to him, or to appreciate the ease with which honey slips past his lips again. “No. I was—it's complicated. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, but I had to—I had to do it before someone else did something worse.”

The bruises covering his abdomen.

You sniffle and pull back enough to look up at him tearfully. “Why would they want to hurt you?”

Mist fills his eyes even as he’s looking down at you, a layer of separation, as if he’s two places at once. Even as he goes to brush your hair behind your ear, to stroke your cheek.

“I’m... not... the same, as I was.” It’s not an answer to your question—but it’s the beginning of the answer to a question you’d been too afraid to put into words.

“Don’t say that,” you beg, because you know where this is going. He keeps smoothing your hair like it’ll make this easier.

“But it’s true,” Spencer says gently, the slightest waver betraying his own emotion.

“You’re just going to leave again.”

And you’re losing to the tears.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will,” you insist, like a child crying to a parent come to comfort them after a bad dream.

“Not right now. Right now I’m here.”

I’ll stay until you fall asleep again.

For now, maybe that has to be enough.

You cry on his shoulder. He kisses your head and doesn’t tell you to stop.

Eventually, you sniff and wipe your eyes.

“We were so close. Before you… we were almost there.”

You’re sure of it. You’re sure that if he hadn’t gone when he did you would’ve been a real couple. You would’ve told him you loved him.

“We’ll get there again,” he promises, rubbing your arm. “I just… I need a little bit of time. I think you do too. But we’re going to get there again.”

Maybe it will never be like it was.

But as so often is the case—Spencer is right. Difference doesn’t mean it won’t ever be good again.

You have to believe that, just as you had to believe you’d see him again.

You look to The Odyssey on your bedside table.

The sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world.

But the sun has a habit of rising, time and time again, after the longest nights, after the darkest storms.

You feel the beginnings of its rise, see the golden tips of it lighting the room as he holds you. Even now.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid angst

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uzurakis · 4 months

Note

can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)

TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!

featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.

n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.

just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.

you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.

"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.

megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.

"you look… um, really pretty."

"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"

you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."

the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”

GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"

you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”

"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."

a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.

then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."

you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"

gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.

ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.

“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”

your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."

his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”

as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."

“you’re too sweet, yuu,”

"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”

NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.

his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.

"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.

he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.

you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."

nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"

you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.

GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”

“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.

he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”

your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.

he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”

you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”

he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."

@uzurakis

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phas3d · 2 months

Note

Hi there! I’m not sure if your still taking requests, but I would love to know your thoughts on how Lorenzo, Theo, Draco, Mattheo, and Tom would react to their s/o wearing their hoodie/sweater. I was thinking headcanons or a Drabble but anything would be great! I really love writing and hope you feel inspired to write even more soon!

Wearing Their Clothes | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: calling theo a man whore, calling enzo a twink,

contains :: draco, tom, mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: inspired by uhh, nothing really - this prompt has been in my draft for ages and i finallyyyy finished it - THANK YOU to everyone who sends requests, I'm finally getting to them

DRACO MALFOY

When you complained about being cold, he instantly started lecturing you

"I told you it would get cold but your little pea brain didn't process that"

But while he's lecturing you, he's taking off his jumper and handing it to you

It smells like him and it's super soft

He only buys the best material for his clothes, because duhhh

He lets you wear it until you're somewhere warm

Although he loves you, he loves his jumper more

But he does sacrifice some of his jumpers by letting you wear them because, he hates to admit it, but you look super cute in his clothes

TOM RIDDLE

He watches you shiver for a few minutes until he decides to offer his jacket

You could literally be turning blue but he won't offer his jacket until he feels like it

He sighs, as if you asked for his jacket, and drapes his jacket around your shoulders

And guess what,,, he even ZIPS IT UP FOR YOU

AHHHH

Even though he's a dickhead at times, he's still a gentleman

When you put on his jacket, he slightly smirks at how big it is on you

Not cause you're cute, but because it makes him feel powerful to know he's bigger

MATTHEO RIDDLE

Is so so happy when he sees you out in the cold during his quidditch match

He's beaming and passes by you in the bleachers for a quick second as he throws his spare jersey in your arms

When you put it on, you smell his sweat and musk

Which would smell disgusting to some but to you, that's your boy :)

During his game, he glances over at you and smiles when he sees you wearing it

It helps push him to win even more

THEODORE NOTT

Sadly, Theo is a man-whore

Meaning he is always serving cunt,,, meaning he rarely wears jackets or sweaters

So if you're cold,,, so is he

Buttt on the lucky chance he is actually wearing a jacket and hiding his muscles, he doesn't hesitate to give you his jacket

And his jackets are 10 times better because not only is it always great material, clean, but it's also stylish

He always takes pictures of you when you wear his jacket, it makes him feel so happy and giddy

It kinda inspires him to try and style outfits for you to wear

Possibly plans matching outfits, that way if you get cold and he needs to give you his jacket - it will match both of you :)

This man is a THINKER!!! mwah

LORENZO BERKSHIRE

This man is a twig, twink, pocket sized

He will fly away in the wind like a napkin

BUT luckily, he loves getting massively oversized hoodies

It smells like the woods, a hint of lavender, but mostly fresh grass and sunlight is his scent

He loves to cool and comfy looks it gives - always gets a cool ass design on it as well

When you borrow his hoodies, he gets so giddy

He loves it so much since it's like he's claiming you in a way

Similar to how you leave hair ties, claw clips, and extra lip glosses all over his room

Definitely stacks up on big hoodies, that way you have a bunch of options to choose from

Even gets you guys matching designs in different colors

#slytherin boys #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x reader #slytherin x reader #slytherin headcanons #harry potter #harry potter x reader

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gor3-hound · 6 months

Text

over again

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: 18+ content, dark content, heavy dub-con, forced ddlg, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, fingering, p in v, creampie, mentions of past drugging, daddy kink, lots of pet names

a/n: took me forever n ever to write this ahhh sorry :/ hope you all enjoy it !! feedback always appreciated !! hopefully the writers block will finally perish.

word count: 1.6k words

14 weeks. 98 days. 2352 hours.

Leon leaves the house at 7.30 am every morning, except for Sundays. From Monday to Thursday, he's home around 6 pm. On Fridays, he isn't home until around 9 pm. Saturdays are the worst because he's home just after lunch.

Usually, when he comes home, he goes to the bedroom and unlocks the door to let you out. He threads his hand in your leash to take you upstairs, giving you a kiss on your forehead as he takes you to the kitchen to eat a meal. He gives you your food on a pink, plastic princess plate with plastic cutlery, and cuts the food into bite size pieces. More often than not, he hand feeds you.

You don't fight it. You'd learned your lesson. You refused food from him once. For 2 out of your 14 weeks locked up in his home, he'd underfed you to the point of starvation until you were begging him to feed you. He sat you in his lap, cooing all sweet as you chewed and swallowed every mouthful he'd given you. That day was the first day he slept with you.

It wasn't all bad. He was sweet. Gentle. If you closed your eyes, you could pretend he was a loving boyfriend. Someone who cared for you, not the creep who'd snatched you from the street after you had a few too many drinks at your friend's party, promising you a better life, safe from the world.

But he isn't sweet, or nice, or kind. He didn't do this for you, despite what his twisted brain tells him. You can pretend all you want that he's something other than what he is, but it doesn't change what he is. A monster.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Where's my little princess?” Leon's asking as soon as he walks into the house, kicking his shoes off and hanging his jacket up at the door. You recently got free reign of the home for being on your best behaviour. Didn't even have to keep the leash attached to your collar anymore. Lucky you.

“Here, daddy.” You say meekly, poking your head out of the living room to approach him, fiddling awkwardly with the edge of your shirt. Head down, so he doesn't have to see the defeated expression on your face as you force out the words, swallowing thickly to hold back your tears.

“You have a good day, sweetheart? You do any coloring in those cute little books I got you?” Leon's hands come up to your cheeks, gently stroking his thumbs back and forth across your cheekbones. You shake your head, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from saying something.

“No? Why not, baby? You don't like them? I got the one with lots of kitties. Pretty girls like you like cute things, don't they?” He coos, squishing your cheeks in his hands to make your lips all pouty so he can lean down and give them a little kiss, letting out a loud ‘mwah’ as soon as his lips make contact.

“You eat at least? I left some food in a lunchbox for you.” You shake your head again, and this time it seems to elicit a worse reaction. His brows furrow, and his hand grips your face even tighter. “No? Silly baby… can't do anything without daddy, can you? Come on. Daddy'll feed you, cutie.”

He heats up some food for you and puts it on a plate. The pink, plastic princess plate. He sits you on his lap and feeds it to you from a fork. Pink, plastic fork. The routine is the same, no matter how much you wish for it to change. When you finish eating, he presses a tender kiss to your head and rocks you in his arms.

“Such a good girl. Good girls get rewarded, princess.” He murmurs, pressing soft kisses against the skin of your neck, trailing them up until he's nosing at the hair behind your ear. His hand slides up your thigh and under your skirt, his thumb swiping your swollen bud through the already damp fabric. It didn't matter if you didn't want it. Your body didn't seem to understand what was happening - all it knew was Leon made you feel good. You hated how compliant you got when he touched you, how any thoughts of defiance melted away.

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

You whimper as he dips his hand under the waistband of your panties. He parts your puffy lips with practiced ease as he continues on with the next part of his routine. 98 days later and he's mapped every inch of your body perfectly - found out everything that has you keening under his touch. Your hips buck as he runs his fingertip between your folds, gathering slick before rubbing small circles into your clit.

“Poor, dumb baby. She's soaking me already. You couldn't make yourself feel good when daddy was gone, huh, sweetheart?” His words are followed up by a finger burying itself in your tight heat, curling to find that gummy spot that has you clenching around him and bucking your hips. “Pretty princess cunt's been drooling for me all day.”

A choked sob leaves you when he pulls his cock out and sits you on top of it. He pulls you down until he's buried to the hilt, groaning as you tighten around his length. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, peppering it with tiny little kisses. You can't help but cry whenever Leon fucks you. 98 days later and you still sob whenever he bullies your cervix with his dick. No matter how many times he makes you cum or makes you go dumb on his cock, it doesn't change anything. He took everything from you - your family, your friends, your job.

You hated yourself more than Leon. For letting him break your walls down. For clinging to him as he tightens his grip on your waist, manhandling you on his cock, lifting you up and down. For finding yourself missing him when he's at work.

“Love…love you, daddy…” Your words come out more like a cry, nose all runny and cheeks wet with tears as he fucks up into you, his head shifting to hang back in pleasure. His fingers dig into your waist as he hears the words, a breathy laugh leaving him as he smiles - all toothy and bright like it always is when you say that.

“Love you even more, princess.” He grunts out, leaning back on the seat to force himself deeper into your pussy, guiding your hips back and forth so you're grinding his cock inside of you, rubbing your pretty clit against his happy trail. You gasp at the sensation, your hands gripping into his shoulders as your brows furrow in pleasure.

“Daddy… daddy…” You gasp out as your orgasm hits, your lips parting as you gush all over him. The look on your face as you cum is enough to have his balls tighten, his teeth gritting as he starts to shallowly thrust into you once more, chasing his own release. You always cry when you cum, and Leon always kisses the tears away when you do, his lips pressing against the wetness on your cheeks repeatedly. Another part of the ritual, another moment repeating day after day.

“Want daddy to fill you up, sweet girl?” He grunts, nipping at your neck as he wraps his arms tight around your waist in a bear hug, holding you steady as he fucks up into your drippy cunt. “Gonna warm you up right in that cute lil’ tummy.”

His hips stutter as his orgasm hits him, his jaw going slack as he presses the tip of his cock right up against your cervix, filling you to the brim with his sticky cum. He slides a hand under your shirt, his thumb rubbing gentle circles into the skin of your tummy.

“That's it. Keep it all in, okay? Daddy doesn't want to see his little angel spill a single drop.” He says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He holds you there for a couple of minutes, cradling you against his chest until it's time to go to sleep.

Before bed that night, Leon ushers you into the bathroom. Like every night before this one, he gently grips your jaw with one hand as he stands behind you, his other hand gripping your pink princess toothbrush as he brushes your teeth, his eyes locked onto you through the mirror. At bedtime, he tucks you in and curls up behind you, spooning you with one hand on one of your tits, and the other wrapped tightly around your waist.

Tomorrow is a Friday. He wakes you up at 6.30 am with a kiss to your head as always, a warm cup of milk in one hand and your breakfast in the other. He feeds you off of a pink, plastic princess plate and presses a kiss to your lips before leaving at 7.30 am on the dot.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #tw dark content

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arieslost · 6 months

Text

little spoon | ln4

summary: lando is the little spoon for the first time.

word count: 835

masterlist — join my tag list here!

you’re half asleep when lando finally gets into bed.

you don’t mean to fall asleep, fully intending to stay awake, but the jet lag is really getting to you. you were hellbent on staying up in order to spend some extra time alone with your boyfriend after such a tumultuous day, especially because your flight to jeddah had been delayed.

you had only caught a glimpse of him before he had to get in the car, so you couldn’t do your pre-race ritual. instead, lando had sprinted to where you stood at the side of the track, hoping to at least give him an encouraging thumbs up, and kissed you so quickly that you barely even felt it before he was running back to his car.

so yeah, a little private time to decompress together sounded really nice. you’ve been trying everything you could, but you’re fighting a losing battle with your heavy eyelids.

the dip of the mattress has you blinking your eyes open, rubbing a hand over your face as lando slips under the covers. you give him a soft smile, and he returns it.

“hey, sleepy,” he whispers.

“hey,” you whisper back. “y’okay?”

“yeah. tired. still kinda pissed off.” he admits.

the race had gone so well, for a little while, at least. the rush of adrenaline you felt when your boyfriend led the race was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, and then he crossed the finish line in p8. you’re still learning the ins and outs of race strategy and whatnot, but you know that something had gotten lost when it came to lando’s strategy.

“sorry, baby,” you reach out and brush your fingers through his curls, still damp from the shower. “things will be better next race.”

“at least one of us is optimistic.” he grumbles, pressing himself further into your hand when you move it from his hair to caress his cheek.

“it will be,” you insist. “and i will be there, ready to say ‘i told you so.’”

he rolls his eyes playfully, and you push his face away in return. “you are so rude.”

“but you looove me,” he coos, grabbing your waist and pulling you into him.

“lucky you,” you make a face at him.

he laughs, sliding a hand to the back of your neck to pull you in for a long kiss.

you hum happily, appreciating how warm his body is and how good he smells. you want nothing more than to cuddle him close to you, pet his head, kiss his shoulder and his neck…

the lightbulb goes off in your head, and you break the kiss, causing lando to whine in dissatisfaction.

“baby…”

“you’re never the little spoon.” you say, like that explains why you’d want to stop kissing him.

“yeah,” he shrugs, pressing another kiss to your lips. “so?”

“so,” you begin, giggling when he goes in for yet another kiss, “maybe tonight you can be.”

“really?” he furrows his eyebrows. “you want to do that?”

“mhmm,” you affirm against his lips when he kisses you again before you can answer. “wanna hold you. you had a long day.”

“i did have a long day.” he agrees, sighing dramatically. “fine. one more kiss?”

“if you insist,” its your turn to playfully roll your eyes as he kisses you, smiling all the while and making an obnoxious mwah sound before he shifts onto his side away from you.

you scooch closer to him and a little further up the bed in order to get one of your arms between his neck and the pillow. the other goes under his own arm and rests against his bare chest.

“this okay?” you ask.

he nods, kissing your forearm.

“good,” you smile against his shoulder. “i love you, lan.”

“love you so much, my baby.” he murmurs, tangling your fingers together.

your heart beats a little faster at his use of my. for as long as you’ve been with him, you’ve never quite gotten used to that lovestruck feeling you get whenever he refers to you as his. you leave little kisses across his shoulder and his neck until his breathing evens out and your eyes fall shut.

when you wake in the morning, you’re sprawled out on your back with one lando norris still fast asleep and attached to your side like a koala. your left arm is still around his shoulders, but his face is snuggled into your neck, his arm is looped around your waist, and one of his legs is in between both of yours. you’re a little chilly courtesy of the blankets being stuck between your bodies, so you slowly move onto your side to face him so you can wrap your other arm around him and pull him closer.

he never says anything about it, to preserve his “macho-ness,” as he likes to put it, but every time he gets into bed and rolls onto his side after that night, you always know exactly what he’s asking for.

note: i warned y’all this would happen and here i am. also i’m still exhausted from going to a concert and then staying up for quali so if there’s any mistakes that i missed pls tell me otherwise i will die of embarrassment 💪🏼💪🏼

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever

#blurb #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x you #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris

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goldfades · 9 months

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✮ 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 (𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬), trevor zegras

♡ ─ word count | 16.3k words (y'all asked for it!)

♡ ─ summary | trevor had always hated your guts. you never knew what for, maybe it was your close friendship with his best friend, or maybe it was because he was jealous of you. that was until, he kissed you, of course.

♡ ─ warnings | very much unedited (i don't got time for that🙅🏻‍♀️) enemies to fwb, alex being collateral LMAO, more plot than smut, unprotected sex (p in v), fingering (lots of it), so much fighting and arguing, usual enemies to lovers stuff, cursing and maybe some other things?? as always lmk if i missed anything

♡ ─ taglist | @dancerbailey3 @valluvsu @daisysnhl @dasiysthings @iminlovewithtz11 @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvleyzoe

♡ ─ ev's notes | the long awaited trevor zegras fwb fic i've been teasing for the past 4 months, it's finally here. i finally got the motivation to finish and here we are, i hope it exceeds y'alls expectations!!! also if yall couldn't tell i didn't know what to title this but whatever, live laugh love! anyways, this isn't exactly 'canon' (my god... can't believe i just used that for a hockey fic im dead) because i know alex/trevor do not live together but for the sake of the fic, live with it. anyways, this is just brainrot for the part, but i hope you enjoy this incredibly self indulgent fic!!!!!!!! love you all mwah mwah mwah

also... requests are open for now if y'all wanna send in some ideas!!

The first moment that Trevor locked eyes with you, he knew he didn't like you.

You never understood why. You couldn't help but wonder what had caused such an immediate dislike. Was it something about your appearance, your demeanor, or just a gut feeling he couldn't shake? Whatever it was, it hung between you two like an invisible barrier, making the atmosphere uncomfortable whenever you two were in the room and it was even harder because you shared a best friend.

You walked into the familiar home of your close friend, Alex and tried to find him. You had left your airpods there a few nights ago and this was the only time you knew he'd be home.

Well, apparently you were wrong because he wasn't anywhere to be found even though his car was clearly in the driveway.

"Alex? Are you here?" You quietly called out, there was no response, so you ventured further into the house, your footsteps echoing in the silence.

Determined to find both your airpods and an explanation for the eerie quiet, you walked further into the house. Each step echoed through the hallway as you walked.

As you turned in the hallway, you let out a loud yelp when you bumped into someone. Someone who clearly wasn't Alex.

"Jesus!" You jumped in fright and calmed down for a second once you recognized the face. "Trevor? What are you doing here?”

Trevor's expression remained as annoyed as ever, though there was a flicker of surprise in his eyes as well. "I could ask you the same thing," Trevor replied, his voice cool and measured. His arms were crossed, and he leaned casually against the hallway wall, as if he had every right to be here.

You tried to stay calm even though his arrogance, as usual, was pissing you off. "I came to pick up my airpods because I left them here a few nights ago, and Alex said he'd be home today."

Trevor rolled his eyes in annoyance as he leaned off the wall and walked closer to you. "Well he isn't here, is he?"

You wanted to slap that stupid know-it-all expression right off his face as he walked past you. You turned around and scoffed, "And why are you here?"

He turned around and looked you directly in the eye. "I'm staying with Alex for a bit." He said simply as he examined your annoyed expression. "What? You have a problem with that, princess?" The nickname rolled off his tongue and you felt your body heat up with anger.

Trevor's use of the nickname "princess" sent a surge of anger coursing through you. You could feel your face flush, and your fists involuntarily clenched at your sides. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and it was infuriating.

"Don't call me that," you snapped, your voice tinged with irritation. "And yes, Trevor, I do have a problem with it. You've made it pretty clear you don't like me, and I sure as hell don't like you either. This is supposed to be Alex's place, and now I have to deal with you too? Just great."

Trevor's smirk seemed to grow wider, as if your anger was exactly what he wanted. "Well, princess," he taunted, emphasizing the nickname, "I don’t care about how you feel about me staying here so… I don’t know what to tell you.”

With that, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the house, leaving Trevor and your airpods behind. Your heart was still pounding with anger as you made your way down the driveway.

──

"I don't know why he hates me, Alex." You complained through the phone as you got ready for a party. It was Friday night you wanted to get absolutely wrecked after the week you've had.

"He doesn't hate you, Y/N-"

He was cut off by a scoff as you put on your makeup. "Are you seriously trying to say that he likes me?"

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Alex let out a reluctant sigh. "Okay, maybe 'like' is a strong word, but I don't think he hates you either. He's just... Trevor, you know?"

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Trevor's name. "Yeah, 'just Trevor' is the problem. Every time we're in the same room, it's like he's actively looking for reasons to annoy me."

"That's just Trevor, though." Alex tried to reassure you but he was plain wrong. The Trevor that everyone else knew was funny and sweet, and what do you get? An absolute fucking asshole whose sole purpose to annoy the hell out of you.

Alex's attempt at reassurance didn't help at all, you couldn't help but let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't know, Alex. It's just hard to believe it's just Trevor when he acts different when I'm not around, you know?"

You could hear the sympathy in Alex's voice as he responded, "I get it, Y/N. But maybe there's more to it than meets the eye. Sometimes people have their reasons for acting a certain way."

He sounded like a dad lecturing their kid as you let out another sigh. But you had to admit there was some truth to it, though.

"Look," Alex continued, "I'll talk to him, okay? Maybe he doesn't even realize how much he's getting under your skin. And besides, it's Friday night. Let's focus on having a good time at the party and worry about Trevor another day, alright?"

You couldn't help but smile at Alex's support. "Yeah, I guess you're right Alex. Fine, I won't think about him anymore but I'll see you at the party."

With renewed semi-determination to enjoy the evening, you said your goodbyes and finished getting ready for the party, hoping that this night out would provide the much-needed break you deserved.

──

The loud music of the party made your head buzz but it was exactly what you needed after the week you've had. The loud atmosphere, with people dancing and laughing, created a welcome distraction from your problems.

You grabbed a drink and joined your friends who were currently sitting outside, enjoying the warm summer weather. As you settled into a chair, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The cool breeze and the sounds of laughter around you were a soothing contrast to the intensity of the party inside.

"You good, Y/N?" You heard your friend laugh next to you as a smile engulfed your face. The alcohol was already working as you let out a giggle and a nod.

And just as you finally got the buzz, it quickly faded as you heard his voice behind you.

"Yeah, you good, Y/N?" The mocking tone in the voice was unmistakable as you turned to see Trevor taking a seat across from you. Alex followed closely, sitting down next to Trevor.

"Hey, Y/N." Alex gave you a soft smile but his eyes were pleading with you to not start anything now.

"Yeah, I'm good," you replied, your voice carrying a tinge of annoyance. You then turned your attention to Alex, who offered a soft smile but communicated his silent plea for you to avoid riling Trevor up.

Trevor, seemingly unable to resist provoking you, leaned in closer. "So, Y/N, having a good time? Or is the buzz from all that alcohol making you forget how much you can't stand me?"

You clenched your jaw, your patience wearing thin. "Oh I haven't forgotten, trust me. Trevor, can't you just for once not be a complete dick?"

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the rise he was getting out of you. "Oh, come on, Y/N, where's your sense of humor? It's just a party."

That last line really made your anger flare up even more. The irritation in your voice apparent as you retorted, "You know, Trevor, you seem to have a real talent for ruining a good time."

Trevor smirked, seemingly unfazed by your comment. "Oh, really? I thought I was just making it more interesting."

Your friends were exchanging glances before Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, sensing the growing tension. He tried to intervene, "Come on, guys, let's not—"

But you weren't in the mood to back down. "Interesting, huh? More like insufferable."

Trevor leaned in, his tone mocking. "Is that so? You don't have to stick around if you can't handle it, princess."

The nickname made your temper grow, as you shot back, "I can handle it just fine, and you can't tell me what to do, I'll stick around if I want, Trevor."

Trevor's smirk remained firmly in place as he replied, "Well, well, someone's got some fight in them tonight."

Alex, growing concerned about the direction of the conversation, spoke up again, his voice pleading, "Come on, guys, can we please just have a good time tonight? This isn't the place for this."

But your anger at Trevor's provocation was hard to contain, and you answered, "Maybe Trevor should learn to behave himself."

Trevor, not one to let a challenge go unanswered, leaned in closer and said, "Or maybe you should learn to take a joke, princess-"

The word "princess" coming from Trevor's lips felt like a taunt you couldn't let slide. "Don't call me that!"

Alex, sensing the situation escalating, pleaded once more, "Hey, Y/N let's go get some drinks and relax, okay?"

But Trevor wasn't backing down, his smirk darkening. "Oh, of course Alex would step in now. You gonna go get some drinks with your boyfriend, huh?"

His accusation left you stunned as you blinked back at him, but then it clicked in your mind. Trevor's animosity seemed to be fueled by jealousy, and you couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. Trevor's face twisted with annoyance at your reaction.

"Oh! I get it now," you exclaimed, a hint of amusement in your voice. "You're jealous of me!"

Trevor's annoyance only seemed to intensify, but he maintained his stubborn stance. "You wish, princess."

Your realization had struck a nerve, and you decided to tease him further. "You think I'm gonna steal Alex from you, isn't that right, Trevor?"

Trevor's face contorted with a mix of irritation and embarrassment as your words hit home. It seemed like you had touched a nerve that he hadn't expected.

"Don't be ridiculous," he snapped, his tone laced with irritation. "I'm not jealous, and you're definitely not stealing Alex from anyone."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, thoroughly enjoying the fact that you had gotten under his skin for once. "Oh, come on, Trevor," you teased, leaning in a little closer to him. "You don't need to be jealous. There's enough of Alex to go around for both of us."

Trevor's irritation deepened, and he leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, how sweet of you, Y/N. You're absolutely right; I'm sure Alex is just thrilled to have both of us fighting for his attention."

Your teasing had clearly struck a nerve, and you couldn't resist pushing the envelope a bit further. "Well, you know what they say, Trevor, 'Two's company, three's a party.'"

Trevor's face turned a deeper shade of red, and his fists clenched involuntarily. He struggled to find a retort as he seethed with frustration. "I couldn't care less about your little friendship with Alex. You're not even on my radar."

Your playful smile didn't waver as you pressed on, pushing his buttons even further. "Oh, Trevor, it's cute how you're trying so hard to convince us of that. But we all know actions speak louder than words."

Alex, sensing that Trevor was on the brink of losing his temper, interjected urgently, "Guys, seriously, let's drop it."

But it was too late. Trevor had reached his breaking point. He slammed his hand on the table, making the glasses rattle, and his voice rose to a furious level.

"Is it impossible for you to shut the fuck up, Y/N? I've had enough of your mind games and your twisted need to be the center of attention," he seethed, his eyes burning with anger.

He got up from the couch and walked to face you, his eyes burning into yours. "I couldn't care less about your friendship with Alex or anything else about you. Just do us all a favor and stay the fuck out of my way."

As Trevor walked away, he made sure to deliver a sharp shoulder bump, leaving you standing there, feeling a mix of shock and anger. The tension between you and Trevor had reached a boiling point, and it was clear that this confrontation had taken a toll on your already strained relationship.

──

A few weeks had passed since the night at the party, and you and Trevor's interactions had become less confrontational, bordering on civil. One night, you found yourself alone in Alex's house. He had gone out for the night, leaving you and Trevor in an awkward, but not entirely unfamiliar, situation. You spend most if not all your time in his house, even if you did have your own. You just always liked his more than yours, even if Trevor had decided to start living there as well. The home was eerily quiet, except for the soft hum of the city outside.

Trevor had been in the living room, watching TV while you were in the kitchen, going through the contents of the fridge trying to find a snack. You had been trying to avoid him, but the small space between the kitchen and living room made it impossible to do so that long.

As you reached for a container of leftovers, Trevor's voice suddenly cut through the silence. "Y/N, can you pass me the remote?"

You sighed inwardly, feeling a wave of frustration wash over you. Suppressing your irritation, you handed him the remote and muttered, "Here."

But as Trevor took the remote from your hand, his fingers brushed against yours, sending a jolt of unexpected electricity through you. You both froze, locked in an moment of eye contact.

Trevor suddenly broke the eye contact and your face felt hot. You wanted to slap yourself, there was no way a two second hand-brush made you feel this way. What was wrong with you? Were you ovulating?

Trevor's voice broke the silence, low and intense. "You know, Y/N, you can be stupidly frustrating."

Your inner thoughts were interrupted by Trevor's comment, and his words only served to amplify the tension in the room. You could feel your heart pounding, and a mix of irritation and desire swirled within you.

You also couldn't get any words out and you felt even more stupid. Trevor noticed your silence and moved his gaze back to you, a smug expression etching his face. It was as if he had achieved a small victory, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to revel in it.

A sly grin tugged at the corner of his lips, and he leaned in slightly closer, his eyes dancing with a mix of amusement and desire. "Cat got your tongue, Y/N?" he teased, his voice dripping with cocky self-assurance.

Your cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and frustration, and you cursed yourself for letting him get the upper hand. Trevor had a weird ability to push your buttons, and in this moment, he had successfully left you flustered and at a loss for words.

You scoffed, finally getting out of the trance he somehow got you in. "N-no, I just couldn't think of... anything worth saying."

Trevor's cocky grin only widened at your stammered response. He leaned in even closer, his breath tickling your ear as he continued to revel in his perceived victory.

"Nothing worth saying, huh?" he replied, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Well, Y/N, maybe you'll come up with something better next time."

His words made you roll your eyes as you gritted your teeth, determined not to let Trevor's cocky attitude get the best of you. You felt yourself getting even angrier as you stared at Trevor but you couldn't come up with anything to say, he has the upperhand and he knew it. You wanted to slap yourself again, you were acting dumb.

The front door had opened suddenly and you let out a relieved sigh when you heard Alex's voice ring through the apartment. The sound of Alex's voice was like a lifeline, breaking the tension that had gripped the room between you and Trevor.

"Hey, guys, I brought WingStop... Did I interrupt something?" Alex looked slightly concerned as he looked at you two.

Relieved to have a reason to shift your focus, you gave Alex a grateful smile and replied, "You didn't interrupt anything important, just the usual Trevor bullshit."

Trevor, who had been reveling in his victory moments ago, now seemed to deflate slightly at the mention of his antics being dismissed as "bullshit." He decided to play it cool, though, adding, "Yeah, bullshit."

Alex seemed to buy the explanation, though there was a hint of skepticism in his expression. "Alright, if you say so," he replied, setting the bags of WingStop on the table. "Let's eat, I'm starving. Then maybe we can watch a movie or something."

You fixed your posture as Trevor walked up from the couch, a smirk still evident on his face as he walked to the table.

"Actually guys, I have stuff to do tomorrow morning." You grabbed your purse from the couch, you didn't wanna be around Trevor right now after what the hell happened earlier. You needed to sort out a lot of stuff in your mind.

"Like what?" Alex sat down in the table, immediately taking out the wings and beginning to eat. "Are you... okay?"

"Yup, just tired."

Trevor's smirk seemed to widen, and you could practically feel his satisfaction. It was clear that he had achieved some victory in the earlier situation, and now he had the upper hand.

Alex, who had been happily digging into the wings, looked up with a curious expression as you grabbed your purse. "Y/N, are you sure you're okay?"

You managed a small smile and a nod, though you couldn't meet his eyes. "Yeah, just got some things to take care of. You guys enjoy the wings and the movie. I'll see you guys whenever."

With that, you hurried out of Alex's apartment, leaving behind the now weird tension between you and Trevor. As you made your way down the hallway, you couldn't help but replay the intense moment with Trevor in your mind, the mix of attraction and irritation still simmering within you.

"What'd you do, Z?" Alex gave him a glare before Trevor raised his arms up in defense.

"Nothing, I swear," he insisted, though his tone was tinged with amusement. "This time, it was all her."

Alex's glare deepened, clearly not entirely convinced by Trevor's explanation. He was well aware of the dynamics between you and Trevor and knew that things could easily escalate between the two of you.

"What do you mean, 'it was all her'?" Alex prodded further, determined to get to the bottom of the situation.

Trevor leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more relaxed. "Well, let's just say she couldn't handle a little teasing, and things got... interesting."

Alex's skepticism was replaced with a amused expression, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "What the hell do you mean, interesting? You and your teasing, Trevor. You're like a walking powder keg."

Trevor grinned, seemingly pleased with Alex's reaction. "What can I say? It keeps life entertaining for us.”

──

A few days had passed since the weird encounter between you and Trevor at Alex's apartment. The memory of that night still lingered in your mind, and you couldn't help but feel hot when you thought about it. The tension between you and Trevor remained unresolved.

One evening, Alex decided to host a small party with a few friends at his house. It was meant to be a relaxed evening of drinks and conversation, a chance to unwind and catch up. As you arrived at Alex's house, you were greeted by familiar faces and warm smiles.

You got up from your spot on the couch and entered the kitchen to get a drink. Thankfully, Trevor was still at practice so you hadn't ran into him yet. As you reached for the beer that inside the fridge, you heard Alex's voice from behind you.

"You sure you wanna be drinking tonight? You have a ride?" Alex's concerned voice made you smile and you got the beer while closing the fridge.

"Yeah, why not? I could always Uber if all of you guys are going to be drinking." Truth be told, this week wasn't exactly your week. After that whole encounter with Trevor, it had all just went downhill. You needed this, you needed a night where you could just forget about everything. And Alex's get-together did exactly that.

Alex eyed you suspiciously. "What happened with Trevor Monday night?"

You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. "Nothing, promise."

"Did you guys kiss or something-"

"No!" You said, almost a little too loudly. A smirk grew on Alex's mouth as you repeated a little quieter, "No, what makes you say that?"

"I don't know, there was just a different kinda tension when I came into the apartment then." He smirked at you as you rolled your eyes, despite the warm blush coming onto your cheeks.

"Shut up,"

Before Alex could continue, Trevor entered the kitchen, his exhaustion evident in his posture. You hadn't even realized he was back home; his arrival had been drowned out by the sounds in the apartment.

He walked right up to and cleared his throat. "Excuse me, you're blocking the fridge."

You bit your tongue at his lack of manners and moved away, Trevor opening the fridge as he grabbed a water. Alex gestured to the living room and you nodded, deciding to leave the kitchen to go hang out with the rest of your friends.

As Trevor walked out to the group a few minutes after you two, you could sense his irritation with the number of people in the apartment. He muttered something to Alex about the crowded space, and you couldn't help but overhear. Trevor's annoyance was evident in his voice as he complained, "There are way too many people here, man. It's like a sardine can."

"Well I told you I was gonna be havin' a few people here tonight, Z." Alex responded calmly but irritation was clear in his face.

"This is way more than a just a few people, dude. How am I supposed to relax after the shittiest practice with a bunch of people here?"

Alex looked annoyed and he just ignored Trevor, looking back at you. But you decided to speak up, not willing to let Trevor's negativity ruin the night. "Trevor, this is Alex's place, and he's doing you a favor by letting you stay here. You can't expect him to control who comes over. It's not just your apartment."

Trevor's irritation flared as he turned to you, his voice laced with frustration. "Oh, of course, the princess coming to Alex's defense. Always looking out for Alex, aren't you?"

“I'm just trying to keep the peace, Trevor. It's not about taking sides. We're all here to have a good time and you're kind of ruining it."

Trevor was glaring daggers at you, his gaze filled animosity as he looked between you and Alex.

The tension in the room was palpable, and your friends were growing increasingly uncomfortable with the heated exchange. Alex tried to intervene, saying, "Okay, let's not ruin the night with this. Trevor, relax. Y/N, thanks for looking out for me, but it's all good."

But Trevor's anger hadn't simmered down. Instead, he seemed to become more agitated, muttering something under his breath that you couldn't quite catch as he huffed and walked off to his room.

With Trevor's mood affecting the atmosphere of the party, you felt the need to step outside for some fresh air. You just couldn't comprehend Trevor. One moment, he was finally okay with you then he wanted to be an absolute dick. It always bothered you, why did he have to be such an asshole?

You were soon joined by Alex, who had sensed your discomfort and followed you outside. Alex leaned against the poll, gazing out into the night, and you stood beside him. He sighed, and you could tell he was trying to defuse this whole situation.

"Sorry about that," he said, his voice filled with concern. "Trevor's just been having a rough time lately. Practice has been pretty shitty, and it's taking a toll on him. I know he can be a pain, but he's going through a lot right now. I mean, he's worked all his life for hockey and sometimes it just doesn't give the same energy back, you know?"

As you listened to Alex as he opened up about Trevor's struggles with his hockey career, you were suddenly hit with guilty about blowing up on him. The weight of your argument with Trevor and the realization of the pressures he was under made you feel bad for earlier. Alex's words had painted a different picture of Trevor's situation, one that you hadn't fully grasped. You knew that being a pro-hockey player was demanding, and setbacks could be demoralizing.

"I didn't realize he was going through all of this," you admitted, a sense of regret in your voice. "I feel bad for being a bitch now. I should've been more understanding." You sighed. You may hate Trevor but you never wanted to add his stress, knowing how hard it is when something you put so much energy in, doesn't feel so rewarding in the end.

Alex gave you a reassuring pat on the back. "Hey, don't blame yourself, Y/N. He was being an ass first and uh... thank you for defending me. I appreciate it."

You smiled at Alex's words, appreciating his understanding and grateful that he didn't hold your heated defense against Trevor against you. As you looked at him, those words felt like they had a deeper meaning than he was letting on. "Thanks, Alex. You're a true friend, ya know that?”

As you and Alex walked back to the living room, you noticed that some of the people were already in the process of saying their goodbyes and putting on their jackets. It seemed that the argument between you, Trevor, and the general tension in the room had prompted an early night for some of your friends.

"We're gonna call it a night, guys." Your friend smiled politely. "Trevor should get some sleep."

Before you could protest, Alex gave them a quick goodbye. "Yeah, they're right. He needs time to relax."

With that, they made their way to the door, leaving you, Alex, and Trevor in the home. The atmosphere in the room had shifted, and the tension from earlier still lingered. It was clear that the night hadn't gone as planned, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

You felt guilty about the entire thing, and the weight of your words hung heavy in your mind, replaying that moment. If only you had kept your mouth shut, none of this would have happened. The ongoing tension between you and Trevor had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and sometimes, you wished you wouldn't be so impulsive.

You couldn't help but wonder if you were too quick to react, too willing to engage in these heated exchanges with Trevor. The realization that your words might have pushed him away further gnawed at your thoughts.

You were torn between wanting to apologize and your ego. Nevertheless, as you stood in the living room, your conscience pushed you to take responsibility for your actions.

You glanced at Alex, who was busy cleaning up the remnants of the party. He seemed to be trying to maintain a positive attitude (per usual) despite the earlier disagreement. It was then that you decided you needed to make amends.

Quietly, you excused yourself from the living room and headed down the hallway to Trevor's bedroom. You felt determined as you knocked softly on the door, waiting for his response.

"Alex?" You heard Trevor's voice from behind the door. "It's fine dude, I forgive you. But ya owe me a beer next time we go out."

"Trevor? It's actually me."

There was silence for a couple seconds before you heard the bedroom unlock; and there he was, with all his glory. He was shirtless, his hair was wet and it was obvious he had just come out of the shower. The only thing he had were those slutty sweatpants, god damnit.

You couldn't help but stare a little longer at his body before finally maintaining your composure. You couldn't deny, he looked good shirtless. You squeezed your thighs together as you maintained eye-contact with him, trying to keep your composure.

"What?" Trevor's voice sounded annoyed, per usual.

You found yourself lost in a trance again, your words momentarily escaping you as you tried to gather your thoughts and confront his anger. What was up with you and not knowing how to deal with hot men?

With Trevor's anger emanating off him in waves, you forced yourself to snap out of your momentary daze. "I'm sorry," you began, your voice quiet but sincere. "I didn't mean for things to get involved like that. I know practice has been rough for you, and I shouldn't have added to your stress. It's just... I hate seeing you so worked up."

Trevor's expression remained stony, and his arms were crossed, a clear sign of his lingering irritation. "Well, you certainly didn't help."

You sighed, knowing you had to take responsibility for your part in the argument. "You're right, I shouldn't have let things escalate. But you have to understand, I was just trying to help Alex."

The anger in Trevor's eyes didn't dissipate, but there was a hint of maybe something else. "Help him with what?" He scoffed as he walked into his room, sighing angrily as you followed, your patience running out.

With a deep breath, you decided be honest with Trevor. "He told me about your struggles at practice. About how it's been hard on you. I didn't mean to throw fuel in the fire but I was just worried about both of you. I may not... like you but I don't wanna push you while you're down, y'know?"

Trevor's jaw tightened, his annoyance evident. "So, you're just meddling in my business now? Trying to be the savior?"

That was his response? Now you really wished you had gone with your ego. Your frustration flared, and you shot back, "I'm not trying to be anyone's savior. I just wanted to help, I hate seeing you two fight, and I wanted to defuse the situation. I thought I was doing the right thing."

Trevor ran a hand through his wet hair, seemingly torn between anger and something else. "Well, you didn't, Y/N. You made things worse."

In response to Trevor's accusation, your own anger flared up. "I'm trying to help, Trevor. I don't need you to be a dick about it."

Trevor's voice seethed with frustration as he fired back, "Maybe you shouldn't, Y/N! I didn't ask for your help, and I sure as fuck don't need it. You're always butting in where you don't belong."

Your anger flared, and you shot back with equal intensity, "Oh, I'm 'butting in'? You're so damn proud, Trevor, you can't accept help from anyone! You act like you're above everyone, like you're untouchable."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury as he retorted, "You think you're so perfect, always trying to fix everything. Well, you can't fix everyone, Y/N."

"I wasn't trying to fucking fix you, Trevor, who do you think I am?!" You shouted back, anger evident in your voice and expression. You couldn't even comprehend his point of view.

Trevor's eyes blazed with anger as he took a step closer, close enough you could feel his warm and minty breath on your forehead as you looked up at him. "You think you know everything, don't you? Always playing the peacemaker, always trying to fix everything. Well, guess what, Y/N? Some things can't be fixed."

The room felt like it was on the brink of a hurricane, the air charged with anger and resentment. Trevor's chest heaved with frustration, his intense gaze locked onto yours. In a low and seething voice, he muttered, "This is pointless."

You clenched your jaw, mirroring his anger as you responded, "Fine, it is."

You both stared at each other, breathlessly. It almost felt intimidate as you gazed into each other's eyes and you could see Trevor's expression relax.

"Why are you always defending Alex?" His voice was still angry but it sounded slightly hurt, underlying... jealousy? You were confused, what did he mean by that?

Your anger had subsided, and you met Trevor's question with genuine confusion, your voice softer than before. "What do you mean, defending Alex?"

Trevor scoffed, his usual snarky self was back on. "You're like his damn lawyer or something, you always have his back. It's fucking exhausting, he's my best friend."

You understood this whole issue now. "I know he's your best friend. I get that, okay? I'm not trying to steal him from you, he's your best friend and I get that-"

"It's not about that!" He raised his voice, frustrated. He sighed as he shook his face, staring back you. You were confused as you stared back at him. As his gaze suddenly softened, it clicked.

He wasn't jealous of you, he was jealous of Alex. It seemed to have clicked in Trevor's head too, his deep blue eyes gazing deeply into yours. And before you knew it, his lips clashed into yours. You kissed him back, moaning into the roughness of the kiss.

He didn't give you any time to adjust to any of it, he hand laced around your neck, pulling you closer to his mouth. His tongue quickly invaded your mouth, exploring everything.

He broke the kiss for a second, looking into your eyes for confirmation. "Y/N?"

You couldn't even form any words, that kiss, even though it had lasted mere seconds felt like a breath of fresh air. You couldn't even form words anymore, your brain had become mush. God damnit, the fucking spell this man had you under.

A smirk stretched Trevor's face as he stared into your lustful eyes, he couldn't help it. He pulled you into another quick kiss before pushing you down on to the bed and quickly followed on top of you, as the bed squeaked under you and Trevor's weight. His hand rose from your neck to your face, gripping it harshly as he squeezed.

"You run your mouth all day long and now you can't say a single word." The smirk was still evident on his face, he looked proud as he stared down at you. "And all I had to do was kiss you stupid, huh?"

"Trevor," you whimpered out. You couldn't even think straight but you did feel stupid, how could one kiss make you feel this way?

"What?" He sounded annoyed but you could tell he was enjoying having control over you. "What do you need, princess?"

You hadn't heard that irritating nickname in a while and usually, you would get mad. But this time, the nickname went right down to your pussy. You let out a soft moan at that, as he squeezed your face again.

"Thought you hated that, princess? Hmm? You like it now?" Trevor moved closer to you, planting a sloppy kiss on your mouth. His hand moved back to your neck, holding you in place. "I asked you a question, can you answer it for me or did I already break you?" His smirk grew at the last statement, the idea of breaking you made his cock grow a little harder.

You felt it, too. Right on your stomach too, which made you squirm under his weight. "Trevor, please."

"Trevor, please. What?" He mocked you, making you sigh exasperatingly. He rocked his hips against your stomach unexpectedly, making you let out a shocked moan.

"Fuck, Trevor."

"You need me to fuck you, huh?"

That was definitely not what you meant, but you'll take it. "Yes, please. I need you, please."

"Hm, so polite. You really are a princess huh, pretty girl?" He brought his other hand to move your hair out of your face, so he could so you better. He cupped your cheek next, grabbing your face before kissing you again.

Trevor got off of you, lying next to you. You were confused and were about to protest until he placed his hand right on your stomach, making you go still. He then sat up, pulling your shorts right off, your underwear next.

You felt self-conscious until you saw Trevor's face. You could tell now, Trevor was the one in the trance, he looked like he was in awe. He then moved his hands to your shirt, discarding it along with your pants.

He placed his hand right on top of your stomach and you felt yourself get even hotter from his touch. He moved his hand lower and cupped your bare cunt, you let out a breath. Trevor looked focused as he started moving his hand against your cunt, making you whimper.

He moved his hand then inserted a finger, making you shiver. You were surprised at the sudden pressure and let out a small gasp. Trevor smirked from next to you, as he began to thrust his finger in and out of you.

You couldn't let out any words, only pathetic sounds. The thought of Alex being in the next room was quickly disregarded as Trevor began to quicken his speed, making your whole body feel like it's been lit on fire.

Your back arched at the new feeling, your head suddenly felt like you were on a roller coaster, you were dizzy on his single finger. The tight sensation began to form in your stomach and you were breathing heavily, losing yourself in the feeling. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Right as you were about to cum, his finger left your wet cunt. You let out a cry of displease as you looked up at Trevor, a smirk evident on his face. "I want you to cum on my cock, understand princess?"

You let out a whimper of agreement. You weren't thinking straight at the moment, all you could think of is finally cumming and cumming on Trevor's dick.

Before you knew it, Trevor was on top of you. He took out his hard cock out of his pants, his expression changing to one of desperation and lust. His eyebrows were knitted in concentration, as he gave his cock a few pumps. His cock was already leaking of pre-cum as he slowly inserted himself in you.

Now, this was a new sensation. You couldn't help but arch at the feeling. If you thought you couldn't get any more drunk on Trevor, you were completely fucking wrong. His dick felt unreal, even if he was only a quarter inside of you. You moved your hand to grip his arm, trying to settle yourself.

He bottomed you out as quick as he could, you felt filled to the brim in the best way. The sensation burned as he stretched you out, it had been a while since you'd been intimate with anyone. It felt so good, your mouth hung open as Trevor put his hands on your hips.

"Fuck, baby you feel so good." He groaned in your ear as you let out a small string of whimpers. Trevor felt light-headed from how good you felt; so warm, so tight, so wet, your pussy was made for him.

He began rocking his hips against yours, thrusting in and out of you. You began moaning, not being able to hold it back. Trevor's hand immediately clasped your mouth to shut up, "Shh, princess. Gotta be quiet."

Trevor was having a problem staying quiet too, desperate sounds leaving his moans as he kept thrusting into and out of your core. He moved one of his hand up to grip your throat. The added sensation made a knot form in your sensation, you were close.

You started bucking your hips to meet his own, causing a new rhythm. You gripped the sheets as you felt yourself come closer to the climax. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum." You rambled in Trevor's ear, whimpering.

"Fuck me too baby, hold on." He choked out. Your pussy sucked him in so well, making it harder for him to even breath. His thoughts were consumed completely of how good he was feeling right now. "Let's cum together, kay?"

All you could do was nod as you couldn't even comprehend anything that was happening expect the fact you needed to cum, that knot was so closing to snapping. You felt your heartbeat race as the bed creaked underneath you two.

The knot was so thin, so close. And it snapped almost immediately as Trevor started rubbing your clit along with his harsh thrusts. "Fuck!" You cried out. You let out a breath of utter bliss as Trevor soon came undone inside of you.

As Trevor came, he immediately came down from the high and he realized exactly what had happened. He had just fucked the girl he swore up and down he would never ever like. And the worst part was he wasn't even mad about it.

──

"Y/N?" Alex repeats as you finally zone back again. You were at a brunch with Alex after a few days without seeing him. Which also meant it had been a few days since you had seen Trevor, giving you a lot of clarity about exactly what had happened.

"Yep, yep. I'm listening, sorry. I have a caffeine headache." You replied softly as you looked down at your plate, taking a bite of your food.

Alex wasn't convinced though as he looked at you, clearly trying to read you. He knew something was up with you ever since the party but he couldn't piece it together, thankfully. He still doesn't know that you and Trevor hooked up that night.

"What's been up with you?" He asked, concern etched across his face as he probed for answers.

"Sorry, it's just been a long week," you reply, attempting to divert his attention. You take a sip of your coffee, hoping the caffeine would kick in and help you shake off the residual effects of the headache.

Alex leans back in his chair, eyeing you with concern. "You sure that's all it is? You've been kind of... distant for past couple days."

"Yeah, just school and work stuff, you know?" you reply vaguely, avoiding eye contact.

He narrows his eyes, clearly not buying your explanation. "Come on, Y/N, we've been friends for how long? I can tell when something's bothering you. Talk to me, please."

You let out a sigh, realizing that Alex's persistence might not be easy to deflect. "Okay, fine. It's just... things have been a bit hectic lately. School and work have been piling up, you know?" Another lie. But you couldn't risk Alex finding out anything, you were scared of his reaction. It had already changed the entire dynamic between you and Trevor, you surely didn't want it to change yours and Alex's.

Alex's expression softens as he bought your white lie, and he nods understandingly. "Yeah, life can be a lot sometimes. But you know you can always talk to me, right?"

"I appreciate that. It's just been a bit overwhelming, and I'm trying to find the balance," you explain, maintaining the facade. The weight of keeping the truth hidden gnaws at you, but the fear of how Alex might react keeps you from opening up.

He leans back, a supportive look in his eyes. "I get it. Just don't forget to take care of yourself, okay? You don't have to carry everything on your own. I'm here to help, too."

"Thanks, Alex. You means a lot to me," you say, grateful for the understanding tone in his voice. You hated the fact that because you let your stupid hormones get in way, now you had to lie to your best friend.

──

The booming music echoed through the crowded room, the beat of the music creating a chaotic sound of laughter and chatter. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and alcohol. You found yourself in the middle of it all, a red cup in hand and the bright lights casting a kaleidoscope of colors over everyone as Future plays through the speakers.

As the night progressed, the effects of the one too many vodka RedBulls took their toll, and you realized that getting home on your own might be more challenging than expected. With a blurry sense of responsibility, you fumble for your phone and manage to dial Alex's number: your favorite sober friend.

"Hey, Alex," you slur into the phone, trying your best to sound coherent.

"Y/N? Is everything okay?" Alex's voice, though concerned, held a hint of weariness.

"Yeah, I'm just... shitfaced right now. Can you pick me up?" You request, your words entirely slurred. Your head was aching and all wanted to do was sleep.

There's a pause on the other end. "I wish I could, Y/N, but I've got some work I need to finish tonight. I'm really sorry."

You pout, the disappointment evident in your voice. "It's fine I can call an uber. I just-"

"Wait, Trevor's here. He said he could come pick you up."

"What?" You thought out loud. Trevor hadn't spoken to you in more than two weeks and now all of a sudden he wants to come and save the day?

"No 'whats' Y/N." Alex sounded exhausted. "It's 2 am, I'm not letting you get into an uber drunk and alone. Trevor's coming right now, just hold on."

With that, you hang up and awkwardly attempt to wait for Trevor. The minutes feel like hours as you sway slightly to the music, the room spinning around you. You were getting tired as you sipped on your water as an attempt to sober up. You felt a hand grab your waist and you jumped but relaxed at the sight of Trevor behind you.

Exhaustion was clear on his face but he still somehow looked good. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or what, but he looked amazing under the colorful lights. He steadied your shaky and drunk body as he looked down at you, concern on his face.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his expression shifting from concern to genuine worry.

"Yeah just a little... drunk." You slurred as you manage a half-smile, appreciating his presence despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.

"Yeah, I can see that." He returned your smile as you unintentionally stared at his face, his blue eyes boring into yours. "Let's get you home, okay princess?"

The nickname didn't sound so bad drunk or horny as you blinked up at him. Together, you navigate through the crowd, Trevor's hand securely on your waist, a sense of comfort and stability in the swirling chaos of the party.

The journey outside is a welcome relief from the overwhelming noise. The cool night air hits you, and you take a deep breath, feeling a bit more alert. Trevor leads you to his car, and as you settle in, you can't help but feel a mix of gratitude for him. You look at the time, it was almost 4 in the morning and he came all the way here to get you. It wasn't even at the request of Alex, he offered.

"Thanks for coming," you mumble, your words slightly slurred.

Trevor gives you a small, understanding smile. "No problem. Just wanted to make sure you got home safely."

As Trevor drives through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the car and the motion lulls you into a drowsy state. The exhaustion from the party catches up with you, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, your eyelids become heavier with every passing moment.

Trevor glances over and notices your head nodding, your eyes struggling to stay open. Concerned, he reaches over to gently shake your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, you okay?"

You mumble a sleepy affirmation, your voice barely audible. The comfort of the car, with the rhythmic sounds of the night, becomes too hard to resist. Slowly, your eyes flutter closed, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.

Trevor glances over again, a soft smile playing on his lips as he realizes you've fell asleep. He adjusts his driving, making sure to navigate the roads carefully while allowing you to rest. The ride continues in a peaceful silence, the streetlights casting a soft glow over the car.

By the time Trevor arrives at your house, you're in a deep sleep, completely unaware of the ride's end. Trevor parks the car carefully, making sure to have a smooth stop. He looks over at you, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminating your peaceful expression.

Trevor decides to let you sleep. He turns off the engine and steps out of the car, gently closing the door. Moving around to your side, he opens the door with a quiet creak, trying not to disturb your rest.

With great care, Trevor scoops you up in his arms, cradling you like precious cargo. The night air is cool as he carries you towards your front door. His steps are measured, ensuring each footfall is soft, not wanting to wake you from the peaceful sleep you've fallen into.

As Trevor reaches your door, he fumbles to find your keys and unlock it. The quietness of the night envelops the scene as he carries you inside, careful not to make a sound. He navigates through the somewhat familiar space of your home, finding your room and carefully putting you down the on the soft cushion of your bed.

He took off your shoes and socks, as well as your coat. He got a blanket and covered you with it carefully. Trevor then went to the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water and finding the asprin, putting them on your bedside table.

After, Trevor stands there for a moment, watching you sleep, the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. With a final look, he quietly leaves the room, leaving you to continue your sleep undisturbed.

The next morning feels like waking up from a million year sleep (and not in a good way). As consciousness seeps back in, you're met with a disorienting fog, a heavy ache in your head and the lingering taste of regret. The sunlight beams through the curtains feels more intrusive than comforting, casting a harsh light on the hazy remnants of the previous night.

This happened every time you go out and drink, your hangovers are always the worst no matter how many tricks you try. You sit up, your head pounding as the memories of last night resurface. The room spins for a moment before settling into a dull ache. Glancing around, you piece together the familiar surroundings of your room, but the events of the night before remain elusive, obscured by a mental fog.

You turn your head to the bedside table and see what Trevor had left. Then everything started to piece together. The phone call, the drive home and now... he left you asprin and a bottle of water?

As you slowly sip the water and take the asprin, the disorienting fog begins to lift. The sunlight, though still unwelcome, now holds a softer glow, and the room feels less oppressive. You can't help but wonder about Trevor's motives and the reason of his actions. Is it mere kindness, or does it mean something more?

You shake your head and sigh. It's too early to be contemplating what any of it means, you're too hungover to even care. All you know is that you appreciate him for what he did last night, even if he had ghosted you for two weeks.

──

"Yeah and then she left the date right after I told her that, and she never texted me back." Alex chuckled as he leaned back more into the couch, getting more comfortable.

You and Alex laugh as he recounts a date, the casual banter lightening the mood in the room. The atmosphere feels familiar and relaxed, and you're both enjoying the comfort of the couch.

"That's rough. The classic 'reveal too much too soon' thing," you joke, a playful smile on your face. It was good to finally relax back at Alex's place without any of the Trevor shit making you uncomfortable. You were in the clear for now, you and Trevor still haven't talked about what happened a few weeks prior and it sounded like neither did Trevor and Alex.

Alex nods, taking a sip of his drink. "Yeah, pretty much. I guess I scared her off with my deep thoughts. Lesson learned, I suppose."

"Deep thoughts?" You laughed as you shook your head. "Okay Mr. Philosopher."

"That's right, Y/N. I'm not just a pretty face; I've got layers," Alex teases, giving you a mock-serious look. You let out another booming laugh, leaning back into the couch.

The door opens unexpectedly and you both look to see Trevor walking in with his gym gear. He looks tired and his eyes widen in surprise as he makes direct eye contact with you. He immediately looks away and sighs.

"Hey," Trevor greets, his voice carrying a mixture of weariness and slight annoyance.

"Hey, Trev." Alex responds, a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. The living room now feels awkward, the unspoken tension palpable.

Trevor moves further into the room, avoiding eye contact with you. "Am I interrupting something?"

Alex glances at you, and there's a moment of hesitation before he responds, "Nah, just catching up. You're not interrupting."

Trevor nods slowly, still avoiding direct eye contact with you. The weight of the unspoken tension hangs in the air, and the room now feels awkward and strained. As Trevor heads to another part of the apartment, you exchange a look with Alex, both unsure of how to navigate the unexpected encounter.

"That was awkward." Alex was the first to speak up, a little amusement in his voice. "Everything okay with you two?"

You tried your best not to show how uncomfortable that question made you feel. You had to lie to your best friend again. "Yeah, why'd you ask that?"

"I don't know, Trevor's usually more excited to be home and you guys were making pretty intense eye contact." Alex explained as he shrugged, leaning more back into the chair.

You manage a nonchalant smile, doing your best to downplay the significance of the encounter. "Probably just tired from the practice and the gym. And maybe he's hungry."

"You're right. He does get hangry." Alex muses as you let out a little chuckle. You hear the bathroom door open and there he was, an somewhat angrier expression on his face.

He sat down on the loveseat and sighs as you and Alex exchange looks. "Hey dude, you hungry?"

"Yeah." Trevor responds with a nod. "You and Y/N planning on going out to eat?" His voice carries a hint of... jealousy?

Alex rolls his eyes and sighs. "No, not just me and Y/N, I was thinking about goin' and getting something for all of us to eat."

As you sat in the middle of this situation, you felt like you were intruding. This felt a little more personal than they were both leading on.

Trevor's skeptical gaze shifts between Alex and you, and for a moment, the tension thickens. The air becomes charged with more tension, and you feel like an unwilling spectator caught in the middle of their now, weird dynamic.

Finally, Trevor breaks the silence, "Alright, fine. Whatever you're getting, make it quick. I'm starving."

As Alex heads towards the door, you and Trevor are left in an awkward silence. The weight of the unspoken tension looms, and it's clear that something beneath the surface is affecting the atmosphere.

"So..." you begin, attempting to break the awkwardness.

Trevor cuts you off with a curt nod. "Look, we need to talk about what happened."

You scoffed in annoyance. You have been trying to get in contact with him after this whole weird incident but you kept getting left on read and now he wants to act like he's the bigger person? You're not gonna let him get away with that. "Yeah, we do. Let's talk about it."

"Fine, let's talk," Trevor concedes, his eyes meeting yours with frustration.

You decide to break the ice, "Look, Trevor, I tried reaching out to you. Multiple times. You left me on read every single time."

Trevor crosses his arms defensively, his gaze avoiding yours. "I needed time to think, alright? It's not that easy."

"You could've at least told me that. Ignoring me just added more confusion to the mix," you retort, your frustration bubbling to the surface.

He rolls his eyes, dismissive, "We hooked up, Y/N. That kinda thing complicates things and I needed space to figure it out."

You shake your head, unimpressed by his justification. "Space doesn't mean ignoring someone. And, for the record, you played just as big a part in 'complicating things' as I did."

Trevor looks at you, his irritation evident in his features. His ears were turning a bright red as his eyes became solely focused on you. "I don't want to rehash this right now," he sighed. "Let's just move on and forget about it."

You're not willing to let him sweep everything under the rug so easily. Your heart raced in anger as Trevor tried to downplay this entire thing. It was pretty clear to you that this whole thing meant way more to you than him. "You don't get to decide that, Trevor. We both need to address what happened."

He huffs, clearly growing angry. "What's there to address? We hooked up, things got weird, and now we're here. End of story."

Your jaw slightly fell open, you couldn't believe he just said that. Your frustration intensifies, and you're not about to let him off the hook. "You can't just pretend like it didn't mean anything. We were somewhat friends, and now it feels like you're trying to erase that. And don't get me started on what would happen with us and Alex."

Trevor's eyes narrow at the mention of Alex. "He doesn't have anything to do with our business and if he gets mad at us for just doing that, so be it. We're adults who can make our decisions without him being angry about it."

Your frustration only grows as Trevor dismisses the impact of your actions on Alex. "We're all friends, Trevor. It's not just about us; it's about the dynamic between all three of us. You can't just sweep it under the rug and expect everything to go back to normal."

Trevor's expression tightens, and his frustration is palpable. "This is between you and me. Bringing Alex into it just complicates things for no fucking reason."

You cross your arms, unyielding. "He's part of our lives, Trevor!"

Trevor runs a hand through his hair, visibly agitated. "You act like I'm hiding something from him. We're not together, and we both know it was a mistake. So, what's there to explain?"

But you're not ready to move on. There's a lingering tension, a connection that can't be easily severed. "We can't just brush this under the rug, Trevor. Ignoring it won't make it disappear. We need to talk about it and figure out where we stand."

Trevor's expression hardens, and you can see the walls he's putting up. "I'm not gonna dissect our one-night stand and it's every little detail, Y/N. If you're looking for closure or whatever, find it elsewhere."

The blunt dismissal stings, and you find yourself growing more frustrated with every passing moment. "You can't just shut me out, Trevor. We are both friends with Alex, and we owe it to him to face the consequences of our actions."

Trevor's face contorted with anger, and he snaps back, "You act like I owe you or Alex something, Newsflash: I don't. We hooked up. Get over it."

"Okay fine. It's not like it was anything I hadn't felt before, your skills are mediocre at best." The comment slips out, and Trevor's face contorts in anger. You knew it was petty to bring the sex into it but it was worth his expression. He looked shocked as he was surprised.

He got up from the loveseat and grabbed your face. "Oh really? It didn't sound like that when we were fucking, Y/N. You were screaming so loud I'm surprised that the neighbors didn't say anything."

You knew you struck a nerve then and there and couldn't help but smirk. You held his eye contact for a few seconds before spitting out another petty remark, "Maybe I'm just a really good actress."

Trevor's grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer, his eyes narrowing. The air between you two crackles with intensity, a strange mixture of anger and something else. "Wanna test that, princess? Let's try again and see who's right." Before you can fully register what's happening, his lips crash onto yours in a fierce, heated kiss.

It's a collision of conflicting emotions – anger, desire, frustration – all rolled into one. The kiss is both punishing and passionate, a show of the unresolved tension that has been building between you. As you respond to his unexpected move, the lines between anger and lust blur in the heat of the moment.

Time seems to freeze as you both lose yourselves in the unexpected intensity of the kiss. The room, once filled with animosity, now becomes a battlefield of unspoken emotions. The kiss is a paradox, a contradiction to the heated argument that lead to it.

His hands left your face as he move them to grip your hips, as his lips travelled down your neck as he planted wet kisses on it. You couldn't help but whimper in desire, keeping his movements slow and calculated. "You're a slut, you know that?" He whispers in your ear as he sucks right below it.

The dirty words left his mouth so smoothly you couldn't help but whimper in affirmation. You couldn't help but like it. Trevor's hand moves further south and lands right on your crotch. You let out a soft moan at that, looking to the side at Trevor's expression. He still looked frustrated as he rubbed you slowly, "You let Alex touch you like this?"

You wanted to be annoyed but he just has you such a trance, you couldn't be. You didn't know what this whole competition with Alex was, but all you know was that Trevor wanted praise. You shook your head, "Only you, Trev."

"Good." He finally unbuttoned your jeans and you felt a relief wash over you. Trevor quickly moved your jeans to down to your ankles as he felt your underwear. You felt another jolt of utter arousal hit you as he rubbed you.

"Oh fuck, Trevor." Your eyes shut as your head lolled back on the couch.

"You're so wet, princess." Trevor let out a laugh as he moved his hands. "Bet Alex couldn't make you this wet."

You shook your head in a state of deliciousness. "Only you, Trev. Please, do something."

"I don't think you deserve it though, princess. Haven't been so nice lately, huh?" He was teasing and you both knew it. You let out an exasperated sigh as you bucked your hips against his hand.

"Trevor, don't tease right now."

"I'm serious." He moved his other hand to grip your face to make you look at him. "You haven't been a good girl, princess. Causing all these problems for me, when all I've done is make you feel so good. Right?" He started rubbing you a little faster, as your eyes shut again.

You knew you were gonna regret agreeing with him later but you needed him to touch you, or you swore you were gonna explode. "Fuck. Yes, I'm sorry. Sorry just please do anything, I need you."

"Need me? Hmm?" He was having fun with this and you were tired of it. He finally moved your underwear to the side and he dipped a finger in, making you arch your back on the couch.

"Shit, Trev!"

He immediately started thrusting his finger in and out. "You're so fucking wet, princess. And I didn't even touch you until now. You're a slut for me, beneath all that anger and frustration from earlier, all you needed was another good fuck from me again, huh Y/N?"

You hated how right he was. And how good he was making you feel. He soon added another finger and that added to the pressure that was currently building in your lower stomach. It was so, so close to snapping, you were about to cum. Your whole body began shaking as you felt the wave of relief wash over you, one hand gripping his wrist and the other holding onto the couch.

Before you could process anything, Trevor pulled your jeans back up. He leaned down to your face, "Open your mouth." You did as you were told and he stuffed his fingers into your mouth. "You made a mess all over my fingers, princess. Gotta clean it up now."

You sucked his fingers clean of your arousal. Then, you heard keys and Trevor quickly pulled them out of your mouth right as Alex walked in. "Hey guys, I got Chipotle. I got your usual orders." He looked up with a smile before it fell slowly. "Um, you two okay?"

Trevor responded with a laugh, "Yup we're perfect. I gotta go to the bathroom really quick I'll be right out." He didn't spare you another glance as he sauntered back into the bathroom.

"Didn't he just take a shower?"

"Yeah, maybe he just um... needed to pee." Your legs were still shaking as you smiled up at Alex. "You uh, got some guac and chips?"

──

As the weeks passed, the dynamics between you and Trevor shifted. What started as a complicated relationship began to turn into something more. The late-night conversations grew longer, the laughter became more genuine, and the guarded walls you both had built around yourselves started to crumble. Being vulnerable became something neither of you were scared of anymore. You found solace in each other's company, sharing your thoughts, fears, and dreams.

Trevor, who was once guarded, started opening up about the pressures of his career, the expectations, and the toll it took on him. In turn, you shared your own struggles, creating a bond that turned into something more than the physical. The tension that lingered from the first night slowly dissipated, replaced by a something more.

The secrecy surrounding your relationship added an element of thrill, but it also brought uncertainty. The fear of someone finding out, especially Alex, loomed over you both. Yet, despite the complications, you found solace in each other's company. The intimacy that developed between you two went beyond the physical, and the connection deepened with each passing day. But the lingering question remained: How long could this hidden relationship last and what would be the consequences when the truth inevitably came to light?

The glow of city lights illuminated the night as Trevor and you walked side by side along a quiet street. The evening air felt cold, but the warmth between you two created a bubble that shielded you from the cold.

Trevor's hand found its way to yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a natural and familiar way. Your hands were freezing and his were warm, you felt yourself become warm by his touch. As you walked, you couldn't help but exchange playful glances and teasing smiles.

The city sounds slowly faded as you entered a little café that was a safe haven from the crispy air outside. The smell of freshly brewed coffee enveloped you as you walked in.

The barista greeted you with a smile as you approached the counter. Trevor squeezed your hand gently, his eyes locked onto yours. "What do you feel like having?"

You scanned the menu, the warmth in your chest spreading as you realized how comfortable and natural this felt. "How about some hot cocoa?"

"Yeah, me too." Trevor nodded and placed the order, his hand never leaving yours.

As you waited for your drinks, you found a cozy corner booth and settled in. Trevor slid into the booth across from you, his gaze was warm. "My stomach still hurts from that ramen we had on Saturday."

You laughed at that and shook your head, "Me too. What were we thinking ordering the spiciest one on the menu?"

Trevor chuckled, his laughter echoing in the warmth of the café. "I don't know, we thought we could handle it. I don't even remember what it tasted like."

"Probably a trauma response," You joked as you smiled up at him.

Trevor shook his head, "Yeah never again."

The warm cups cradled in your hands, you took a sip of the sweet hot cocoa. "This is perfect. Thank you for indulging my sweet tooth."

Trevor grinned, his eyes sparkling with as he winked playfully. "Anything for you."

"Oh yeah?" You laughed as you shook your head.

Trevor leaned in slightly, his voice lower. "Absolutely. You've got a sweet tooth, and I've got a soft spot for you."

"That was so cheesy, Trevor." You shook your head in a faux disappointed way but your heart fluttered at his words. You wanted to think logically but at this point, you couldn't. You knew you weren't dating but it felt like you were, and that was all that mattered right now.

"Yeah? Well you're blushing so I'm pretty sure it landed well, no matter how cheesy you say it was." He smirked as he drank some of his hot cocoa.

"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes, hitting his shoulder playfully. "That was your goal the entire time, you're just trying to get in my pants."

He put his hands up defensively as he laughed, "You got me there, princess."

Your face was as warm as the drink in your hands as Trevor gazed back at you. "Stop looking at me like that." You whispered with a smile.

Trevor shook his head in response, "Nope." He leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your lips.

──

You pulled up the blanket to cover your naked body as you let out a laugh at Trevor's joke, the warmth of your bodies leaving your entire body on fire. The glow of his bedside lamp created a cozy atmosphere, casting shadows that danced along the walls. Trevor laid beside you, a contented smile playing on his lips.

"That was a good one," you say softly, still chuckling at his stupid humor.

Trevor smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I have my moments. But hey, I've gotta keep ya entertained."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Entertained? Is that what this is?" You gestured between the two of you.

"Of course. I'm here to provide top-tier entertainment. What else did you think this was?"

You feigned deep contemplation, tapping your chin. "Well I was hoping for a one-man show, but I guess company isn't too bad."

His eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed. "Oh, I see how it is. You're just here for the comedy, not the sexy company."

You chuckled, "Well, your sexy company is tolerable when you're not making terrible jokes."

Trevor placed a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. "Ouch, Y/N. My jokes are gold, and you know it."

"More like bronze," you teased, smirking.

Trevor shook his head, "I'm a comedic genius and you know it, princess."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Genius might be pushing it a bit."

He feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the ego. I really thought I was the funniest guy you knew, sweetheart."

You chuckled, "You're definitely up there, but I can't give you a big head. We wouldn't want that."

Trevor shifted closer, the warmth of his presence enveloping you. "Nah, my head's just the right size. Wouldn't want it any other way."

Before you could respond, you heard a loud ding! coming from the bedside table. You realized it was Trevor's phone and grabbed it quickly and glancing at the screen on pure habit. Your heart dropped when you saw a girl's name with three hearts next to it, "Amber ❤️❤️❤️". You didn't recognize it and you quickly handed it to Trevor, choosing to keep quiet. You two were nothing but friends with benefits, that was it.

That realization hit you like a ton of bricks, you knew you had no right to be saying anything because neither of you even talked about wanting commitment. But the thought of him talking to other girls the same he did with you felt like betrayal, but of course he was; he was one of the biggest names in the NHL right now, who wouldn't wanna sleep with him?

Trevor took his phone from you, glancing at the screen. He quickly tapped a response, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, even though you had no right to. Your heart felt like it was shattered and you suddenly felt sick. It was a stark reminder of the nature of your relationship – undefined and open.

He put his phone back on the bedside table, seemingly oblivious to the momentary discomfort that flickered across your face. "Sorry about that. Just a friend," he said casually, offering a smile.

You managed a nod, plastering on a forced smile. "No worries." Your response was short as you pulled the covers up to cover up more of your naked body, you felt more exposed than before.

He noticed the gesture and his eyebrows furrowed, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just tired. I should probably get going, I have work in the morning." You said softly, dismissing the fact you said you'd stay the night, like you usually did.

Trevor seemed confused until he looked at his phone then back at you, piecing it together. "Oh,"

You got out of the bed and put your bra and shirt back on. Trevor stayed in bed, trying to figure out what to say. Just as you were about to leave, Trevor's phone buzzed again. Another notification from the same girl probably, and you couldn't ignore the pang of hurt that struck you.

Trevor, sensing your gaze, met your eyes, his expression guarded. The unspoken tension between you two hung in the air. "Is everything okay?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Yeah, fine."

"Y/N, is this about her?" He gestured toward his phone. Before you could say anything he continued. "Come back, princess. Promise I'll stop talking to her, okay? Will that make you stop being cold?"

You hesitated, caught off guard by Trevor's unexpected offer. The vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own uncertainty. After a moment of silence, you sighed, relenting to the unspoken desire for clarity.

"Fine," you replied, the weight of the unspoken tension lifting slightly. You looked up at him and the curves of his lips turned up into a warm smile and it felt like he was pulling you back in. Goddamnit. You tried to be strong but even his smile made your knees buckle.

"Come here, princess." He mumbled as he opened his arms up and you sighed. You put down your bag and slowly walked back to him as he scooched so you could come.

As you nestled into the warmth of Trevor's arms, the faint scent of his cologne enveloping you, a mixture of comfort and uncertainty settled in. The comfort of being close to him tugged at your heart, and for a moment, it felt like the unspoken tension had given way to a silent understanding. You listened to the soft beat of his heart, and it echoed the complexities of your own feelings. Trevor's fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, the rhythmic gesture grounding you both in the present moment.

He moved slowly and gave you a soft kiss on your head as he muttered against your hair, "Only really want you, princess. You're the only one who could ever make me feel like this, do shit like this..."

The words hung in the air, as you stayed wrapped in his arms. You couldn't ignore the fact that, despite the uncertainties, there was a bond that he shared with you that he doesn't share with anyone else.

──

Finally, after months of living with Alex, Trevor had secured his own place. In the true nature of Alex and Trevor, they threw a housewarming party to celebrate it.

The party at Trevor's new place was in full swing. In a corner of the living room, Trevor leaned against the wall, a solo cup in hand, and surveyed the scene. His eyes found Alex across the room, engaged in a conversation with a group of people. As he caught sight of you approaching, Trevor's smile widened.

"Enjoying the party, princess?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. "Not bad, Trevor. You throw a decent party."

Alex walked over and joined the conversation, clapping Trevor on the back. "Man, this place is huge. Finally got rid of the sardine can feel, huh?"

Trevor chuckled, "Yeah, the sardine can days are over. No offense, Alex."

"None taken. It was time for a change, and I needed my own space. Plus, no more stepping on each other's toes. I can finally have as many girls over as I want." Alex joked as you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, sure Mr. Rizz right here."

"Shut up, Y/N. You're still single and I'm here with girls blowing up my phone." Alex playfully glared at you and you couldn't help but laugh. You and Trevor both exchanged a knowing glance before laughing again. It was still a secret, of course.

Trevor's gaze suddenly moved behind you and he quickly excused himself, you turned around to see the girl, Amber, from the other night. The one who he'd insisted he'd stop seeing. The only reason why you knew what she looked like was because you decided to do some investigating on his Instagram, finding her. Your face fell and you turned to Alex, excusing yourself as well to go find some drinks.

The thing was, you and Trevor weren't together. It wasn't the fact that he's still seeing her that bothered (but you would admit that it did sting a little), it was the fact that he promised to stop talking to her, it was on his own accord.

Moving through the crowd, you felt a knot form in your stomach as you sought refuge near in the kitchen. The sight of Lily's arrival stirred a bunch of emotions, each one more complex than the last. Trevor excusing himself to go talk to her only added to the discomfort.

As you busied yourself with preparing a drink, Alex joined you, sensing the shift in your mood. "Everything okay, Y/N?"

You forced a smile, attempting to downplay the situation. "Yeah, just needed a breather. Crowds, you know?"

Alex raised an eyebrow, studying your expression closely. "You sure that's all?"

"It's nothing, Alex," you reassured him, taking a sip of your drink. The burning liquid did little to soothe the brewing turmoil within.

The music throbbed in the background as you kept an eye on Trevor. His interactions with Amber seemed too friendly for someone he "stopped talking to". The promises he made echoed in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being betrayed, even if it was in a vague, unspoken way.

As you continued to observe Trevor and Amber, your internal turmoil escalated. You knew that watching wouldn't help your anxiety but you couldn't stop yourself. They laughed together, sharing inside jokes that seemed to bridge a connection beyond what you'd expected. It was a contrast to the secrecy that surrounded your interactions with Trevor, you couldn't help but feel jealous. The laughter, their shared glances, and his touches — it all played out before you like a scene from a script you hadn't been privy to. Your attempt to brush off the unease became even more challenging.

Then, he broke your final straw — he moved her chin up to look at him, like he always did with you. It was a simple gesture but it meant a lot but now you've realized it may have just been a trick all along. He knew what he was doing. You couldn't just sit there and watch anymore, you had to do something. Unable to bear the sight any longer, you made your way through the crowd, determined to confront Trevor about this stupid situation.

Finally reaching Trevor, you tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Hey, princess, having a good time?"

The nickname didn't feel so endearing as did it before you glanced at Amber then back at him. Your attempt to maintain composure was slipping, and you responded with a forced smile. "Can we talk?"

Trevor's brow furrowed, and he exchanged a quick glance with Amber before nodding. "Sure thing, Y/N."

Before you and Trevor could walk away, Amber spoke up. Sensing tension, glanced between you and Trevor before smirking. "Oh, is this your girlfriend?"

The term stung, not because you didn't want to be Trevor's girlfriend, but because it highlighted the weird nature of your connection. Before you could respond, Amber continued, her tone condescending, "Trevor, you didn't mention you had a possessive one."

You gritted your teeth, your patience waning. "I appreciate your concern, but this is between Trevor and me. You don't need to get involved."

Trevor's jaw tightened, irritation evident in his expression. "Amber, we're just figuring shit out. It's not your business."

She chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "Oh, I get it. Casual fun, right?" Amber's gaze shifted to you, her eyes narrowing with a hint of mockery. "Hope you're not catching feelings, sweetheart. It's not that kind of arrangement. And just remember, you have options, Trev."

The nickname rolled off her tongue perfectly as she left. As she walked away, Trevor shot her a disapproving look before turning his attention back to you.

Turning back to Trevor, you felt a mixture of frustration and hurt. "Can't believe she talked to me like that. And I can't believe you just let it happen."

Trevor looked torn, his eyes darting between you and where Lily disappeared into the crowd. "Y/N, I didn't expect her to be like that, she's sweet to me. Can we talk about this later?"

The dismissal fueled your anger. "Later? You always say later, Trevor. Do I even matter to you?"

Before he could respond, you stormed away, the weight of unspoken words heavy on your shoulders. Trevor hesitated for a moment, torn between following you and letting you go, but ultimately, he chose to chase after you, calling your name in a desperate plea.

He finally caught up, a hand grabbing your arm gently to turn you around. "Y/N, come on. Let's talk about this."

You scoffed, ripping your arm away. "Talk? You're only good at talking, Trevor. Actions? Not so much."

Trevor ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. "What do you want from me, Y/N? I can't control how she acts."

"Maybe you can't control her, but you can control your own actions," you shot back, the anger bubbling over. "You promised, Trevor. You promised me you'd stop talking to her."

He sighed, looking exasperated. "I said I would talk to her. I didn't know she'd act like that. Can we please not do this here?"

Your eyes narrowed, a bitter laugh escaping you. "Oh, now you care about where we fight? How considerate of you."

Trevor's frustration matched yours, and he raised his voice. "I'm trying, okay? I'm dealing with a lot right now."

"Yeah, well, so am I," you retorted, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill. The emotions that had been brewing for weeks finally reached a boiling point. "I can't keep doing this, Trevor. I can't keep pretending like everything's fine when it's not."

Trevor's frustration boiled over as he snapped back, "Oh, don't act like you're innocent in all of this, Y/N. You're the one who can't make up your damn mind. One minute, you're all over me, and the next, you're acting like I'm a stranger."

You glared at him, the hurt evident in your eyes. "Maybe I wouldn't be so confused if you actually communicated instead of leaving me in the dark all the time. And don't even get me started on your promises."

He rolled his eyes, a scoff escaping his lips. "Promises? What are we, teenagers? Get over yourself, Y/N. This isn't some fucking fairy tale, people are gonna break some promises sometimes."

Your jaw tightened, and you shot back, "At least I'm not playing games with people's feelings. You know, it's not that hard to be a decent human being, Trevor."

Trevor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer, the venom in his voice palpable. "You act like you're some hotshot, like you have it all figured out, you're just as lost as the rest of us. Maybe you should stop pretending like you have your shit together because I know you don't."

You couldn't believe he had went that low. Your chest tightened with anger, "At least I'm not relying on empty hookups to fill the void, Trevor. Maybe if you faced your issues instead of drowning them in whatever girl you find next, you wouldn't be such a fucking mess all the time."

Trevor's face contorted with rage, his usual composed demeanor crumbling. "And what about you, huh? Always trying to fix everyone else's problems. Maybe you should take a good look in the mirror and realize you can't fix everything."

The words hung in the air, each one sharper than a blade. The pain they carried cut through the lingering tension, leaving you stunned. Trevor, realizing the meaning of his words, took a step forward, a desperate urgency in his eyes.

"Y/N, wait, I didn't mean—"

But you had heard enough. The realization that he had crossed a line, spoken words that couldn't be unsaid, fueled your resolve. You turned away, your footsteps quickening as you tried to distance yourself from the searing pain in his words.

Trevor stumbled out an apology, the desperation in his voice growing, "Wait, I take it back. Y/N, please, don't go. I didn't mean any of that."

With each step away from him, the sounds of the party became muffled, as if the world outside your fractured bubble was moving on without you. Trevor called your name one last time, his voice a desperate plea, but you couldn't bring yourself to turn back.

He turned around and saw the last person he'd thought was overhearring them. "Fuck, Alex. You scared me-"

"You and Y/N were hooking up this entire time?" Alex spat, anger in his voice. Trevor hadn't seen him this livid in his entire life. "I should've known, and I should've told her it's a bad idea. And now she's crying because of you, Trevor. Great move, buddy."

Trevor's annoyance flared, "Alex, this is none of your business. Stay out of it."

But Alex wasn't backing down. "None of my business? She's my best friend, Trevor. I hate seeing her like this, and I hate that you're the one causing it."

"Cut the "best friend" bullshit, we all know you fucking like her!" Trevor yelled. He was so close to spilling over the edge, this was supposed to be a fun party but now it's turning into a mess. "And you're too fucking jealous to admit it. And here's the thing, buddy, she'll never see as more than a brother figure, so find yourself someone else."

Alex's eyes widened, disbelief and even more anger merging on his face. "You think this is about jealousy? Trevor, you're so fucking blind. I care about her well-being, not some weird possessiveness shit. Unlike you, I don't treat people as disposable, and I sure as hell don't manipulate them into some fucked up games."

Trevor's frustration boiled over. "You don't understand a fucking thing. She's not your responsibility, and you're not her savior. Stop pretending like you know what's best for her."

Alex's eyes narrowed. "You're right. I don't know what's best for her. But I know what's not, and that's you, Trevor. If this is the person you've become, then-"

Trevor, feeling the weight of the accusations and the tension in the room, snapped, "You know what, Alex? She's mine. Got it? Mine. And you need to accept that."

Alex's eyes widened, pure anger on his face. "What did you just say?"

Trevor's face contorted with a bitter smirk. "You heard me. She's mine. You've always been in the way, and now she sees it too. So, back off, buddy, She doesn't need you."

The words hung in the air like a poisonous cloud. Alex, fueled by a surge of rage, responded, "You're fucking crazy if you think she's an object you can just claim. She deserves someone who treats her with respect, not someone who plays with her feelings for fun."

Trevor's eyes blazed with fury, "You have no idea what she wants. You've always been the nice guy, and nice guys finish last."

Alex scoffed and finally looked away from him, starting to walk to the door. "Yeah, fuck this I don't care. Bye, asshole."

"Oh real rich, Alex! Running off to go save the day like you always do, huh?" He yelled as Alex opened the front door. "Good luck getting outta the friendzone." Before he could walk out, Trevor grabbed his collar and pulled him closer. "You'll never, ever compare to me, Alex. In any way, shape or form. Especially in that department cus we all know who does it better." With a forceful shove, Trevor sent Alex stumbling backward against the door before turning away and walking off.

Trevor needed a drink, and fast. He didn't process anything or anyone as he walked into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of vodka. He pulled out one of the shot glasses before pouring himself one, taking it quickly.

Before he could take another, someone tapped on his shoulder. "How'd it go with your little girlfriend?" Amber smirked. "Is she gone?"

Trevor couldn't even speak, he was livid. She was the reason that you had walked away from this. And he just realized that you were the best thing he'd ever have. "Oh, fuck off."

Amber looked proud as she laughed, "Don't be too sad about it, Z, you have me."

That was the last straw. "Get the fuck out."

Her face finally fell. "What-"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out," each word came out more harsh the next. "And I don't wanna ever hear from you again, got it?"

"Z, wait, no! Why are you mad-"

"Get the fuck out! Now!" Trevor finally yelled, watching her shoulders fall. She finally got the memo and sighed, walking away.

As Trevor downed another shot, he realized the gravity of the situation. He had pushed you away, hurt Alex, and now, he had to face the consequences of his actions. The alcohol burned, matching the turmoil in his mind.

Alex caught up with you just outside the house, his footsteps echoing in the silence of the night. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, and the weight of the situation weighed heavily on his shoulders.

"Hey," he said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned to him, and he could see the hurt in your eyes. Without a word, he pulled you into a tight and comforting embrace.

You let out a shaky breath, finding solace in the warmth of Alex's presence. His friendship had always been a source of support, and in that moment, you needed it more than ever. He didn't press you to talk; he just held you, letting you feel the reassurance of his touch.

"I can't believe he said those things," you whispered, your voice breaking as your tears stained his hoodie.

Alex sighed, rubbing your back soothingly. "Yeah, he went way too far. You don't deserve that, Y/N."

As the two of you stood there in the quiet night, the weight of Trevor's hurtful words lingered in the air. Alex's presence was the comfort you needed, though. The warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, helped to ease the ache that Trevor had left behind.

After a moment, you pulled back slightly, meeting Alex's gaze. There was a soft understanding between you, a connection that went beyond friendship. In that shared vulnerability, something shifted.

"I don't know what I expected," you admitted, wiping away a stray tear as you sniffled. "But I never thought he'd say those things. It's like he's a different person."

Alex nodded, a mixture of empathy and frustration in his eyes. "Sometimes people show their true colors when things get tough. And sometimes, we don't really know them as well as we think we do."

A small, sad smile played on your lips. "I thought we were... together, you know? And now it's like I never really knew him."

Alex's expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You deserve better, Y/N. You deserve someone who appreciates you for who you are, without all the drama and games."

As the words hung in the air, a new awareness passed between you. The night had unfolded in ways you hadn't anticipated, and in the quiet intimacy of that moment, something changed. The connection between you and Alex had deepened, a subtle shift that neither of you fully understood yet.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't say anything about it. It was a secret and I didn't want you to think differently of me." You spoke softly.

"That could never happen, Y/N." He whispered as he cupped your face slowly, as if to test the waters.

Then, without planning, both of your lips met in a gentle kiss. It was a tender touch of understanding of the pain you both felt. The world around you seemed to fade for a moment as the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a different kind of warmth. When you pulled away, uncertainty lingered in the air, but there was also a sense of relief.

──

Over the next couple months, You and Alex started dating, and everything seemed happy and content for the most part. You went on dates and built a connection that felt safe and comforting, nothing like the one you had with Trevor. However, You couldn't shake the lingering feeling that a part of you was still entwined with Trevor. You knew that it was better for you but you missed the way Trevor touched you, the way he spoke and the way he treated you (when it wasn't bad). The joy she felt with Alex was genuine, but the ghost of Trevor lingered in the shadows, casting doubt on her decisions.

You and Alex continued your relationship but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that your heart still held a significant place for Trevor. Subtle cues, unspoken glances, and the distant expression spoke volumes to him. Despite your happy moments, he sensed your mind occasionally drifting back to Trevor sometimes.

Alex grappled with the awareness that he might be a compromise, a second choice compared to the intensity and history you shared with Trevor. The quiet comparisons became a silent shadow in your relationship, and though Alex tried to provide the love and support you truly deserved, he couldn't erase the lingering presence of Trevor in your heart.

"So who's throwing this party again?" You spoke as Alex drove quietly, music softly playing in the background.

"It's Jack's place," Alex replied, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Should be a good time. He knows how to throw a good party."

You nodded, looking forward to a night of drinking, work hadn't been so fun and you wanted to have fun with all your friends. The car pulled up to the house, music pulsating from inside. As you stepped out, the loud atmosphere embraced you, drowning out any worries.

Amidst the loud music and the crowd, you and Alex found a space on the makeshift dance floor. The rhythm of the music pulled you closer, and soon, you were dancing together, your movements syncing effortlessly. The worries of the past seemed to fade away in the loud music, leaving only the present moment.

Alex twirled you playfully, a smile on his face, and you couldn't help but giggle. As the song shifted to a slower tempo, Alex pulled you into a gentle sway, the two of you lost in the music and each other.

The party continued around you, but in that moment, it felt like the world had slowed down. Alex's eyes met yours, and a warmth passed between you, the worries and comparisons faded away, leaving only the simplicity of the dance and the contentment of being in each other's company.

Everything was perfect.

Then Alex's gaze shifted behind you and suddenly his eyes hardened and he stopped swaying. You turned around to see the one person who you have spent the last 3 months trying to forget about, smirking as he watched the two of you.

"Trevor?"

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1K notes · View notes

junkissed · 5 months

Text

on the nose

member — minghao x f reader genre — smut, fluffy ending word count — 6.2k synopsis — you're too shy to be on the nose about what you want. luckily, minghao's got you figured out... he even likes the fluffy tail, too. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, established relationship, nicknames (bunny, baby, love, honey, good girl, etc), unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamics, pet play, lingerie (bunny costume), teasing, begging, anal plug, oral (f receiving), not quite ass eating but close to it, breeding kink, creampie, filming during sex, praise, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, spanking, hair pulling, biting, marking, squirting, generally rough and messy sex, and then it does a total 180 and it becomes really soft and gentle i'm sorry i can't help it this happens every time it's just who i am, pls lmk if i missed any there's a lot nksdjfsfh notes — requested by anon for my 🐈 1k event — thanks so much to @onlymingyus and @highvern for helping me brainstorm <3 this was a challenge to write tbh but i'm glad i decided to finish it. if you enjoyed and want to see more like this please lmk how you liked it with an ask or a reblog! i always want to try new different things and feedback on this would be super appreciated :)) hope you enjoy this my slutty little bunnies mwah xoxo

you've been waiting for this day for weeks.

“hi baby,” minghao says warmly as you walk inside the house and slip your shoes off, setting your bag on the chair by the door. he wraps his arm around you to pull you in for a kiss before he turns his attention back to the boiling soup on the stove. “there was a package for you when i got home.” he nods his head towards the living room. “it’s on the table.”

“ooh, it’s my new hat!” you squeal and race across the room. “it's finally here!” you tear into the plastic like a wild animal, taking it out of the package and holding it up to show him.

it’s a knitted white beanie with white floppy ears hanging down from the sides of the hat. you pull it on over your hair, repositioning it so that the long fabric dangles at your shoulders. “what do you think?”

“you look so cute, baby. i love it.” he grins and moves closer to kiss you again. “though you know i’ll love anything you wear.”

you scrunch your nose at his reaction, but minghao must mistake the disappointment on your face for joy, because he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose before letting go of you and moving back towards the stove. “dinner will be ready in a bit, love. i’ll let you know when it’s on the table.”

you take off the beanie with a soft sigh and fold it up as you walk to your bedroom, not wanting to get it dirty before you’ve even had a chance to wear it anywhere. it's unreasonable to think he'd get it immediately, you know that, but you can't help but wish he'd have been just a little bit more excited at the sight of your bunny ears.

the soup is already done and minghao is waiting patiently once you come back out of your room changed into your pajamas, and by the time he’s got you pinned beneath him in bed later that night drawing pretty little moans from your lips, your bunny fantasies are the furthest thing from your mind. laying on your side as you listen to his gentle snores, you sigh and close your eyes, leaving it be. for now.

you wait a couple days before you try again.

“have you thought about what you’re gonna be for halloween?”

minghao looks up from his laptop sitting next to you in bed. “not really,” he chuckles. “it’s only april. why, did you have something in mind?”

you purse your lips, trying to seem casual. “i was thinking of being a playboy bunny. don’t you think that’d be cute?”

“mm… cute isn’t the first word that comes to mind,” he says, the corner of his lip quirking up into a smile. something flashes across his eyes and you hold your breath, hoping for the reaction you want this time. “we can look for costumes closer to october, yeah?”

you start to frown at his answer but quickly catch yourself, hiding your dismay with a smile. “good idea. hey, i’m gonna take a quick shower before bed, m’kay?”

he nods, and you lean over to give him a soft kiss on the cheek before standing up.

but this time he doesn’t miss the way your expression falls, his brows furrowed as you walk out of the room and close the bathroom door with a quiet click. he knows there’s something you want, something you’re not happy with, but sometimes it’s so hard to get you to tell him what’s on your mind.

he closes his laptop and sets it aside on the bedside table, crossing his arms over his chest in thought as he hears the shower water start to run. if all you’re willing to do for now is drop hints, then he’s just gonna have to start paying better attention until you feel like opening up. he’s not exactly a mind reader, but he’s figured you out before and he’ll do it again.

the next time it comes up, you don't even mean for it to happen.

you're walking through the mall, hand in hand as you stroll past boutiques and shops. something in one of the windows catches your eyes, and you tug on minghao's hand to go inside. he follows your gaze to the display of frilly white dresses, the wire rack wrapped with pastel garlands for their spring sale.

a sales lady with a cheap rabbit ear headband walks over and greets you with a smile, quickly launching into a memorized script about new items and clearance sales. you subconsciously squeeze minghao's hand and he pauses to watch the way you look at the woman as she talks, trying to see what you're looking at.

and then he notices something, and things start to click into place. you say something to the woman that he doesn't hear before she nods and walks away, and he sees your gaze lingering on the little cottontail tied to the belt loop of her jeans, bouncing with each step.

“you like these?” he asks curiously, running his hand over one of the dresses you'd been eyeing earlier.

“hm?” you ask absently and whip your head back around, your attention clearly drawn elsewhere. “oh, yeah. they're cute.”

well, he may not be a mind reader, but he has a hunch that the reason you wanted to come in this store wasn't to look at the clothes.

he has the chance to put his theory to the test later that night when you're straddling his lap, hands gripping your ass as he pulls you up and down along his cock.

he decides to try it, under the guise of dirty talk in the heat of the moment, and he's so casual about it you'd never suspect a thing. it already doesn't take much to get you fucked out in his arms, so when he slips it in between curses and moans you'd never be able to guess that he's been thinking about this all afternoon.

he groans as you grind down against him, waiting for the perfect opportunity. “bouncing on me so good, like a little bunny,” he says, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that makes you fall forward onto his chest.

like a magic word you instantly clench around him, whimpering loudly as your hips stutter and fall out of rhythm with him. he sees your eyes squeeze shut as you struggle to keep going, blatantly ignoring his words and pretending they don't affect you like he knows they do.

he lets himself grin at your reaction and thrusts up into you again, making you whine again as the tip of his cock presses into the spot that has you falling apart for him.

“hao! fuck, fuck, i'm—” you barely have time to moan out a warning before you're cumming, your body trembling against him from the strength of it as you gasp for air.

when you finally come back down he does everything he usually does, nothing out of the ordinary. he kisses your forehead and cleans you up and tucks you into bed beside him. he files this new little piece of information away for later and doesn't bring it up again.

for a while you start to think it was probably just an accident, a slip of the tongue when he wasn't thinking. he says a lot of things when he's inside you; he doesn't always have to mean them. but you should know better by now not to underestimate your boyfriend when he's got an idea in his head.

days go by and both of you pretend like it never happened; you because you're embarrassed at how much it affects you, and minghao because he has bigger plans up his sleeve.

everything seems perfectly normal until one evening when you come home from work and he's waiting for you at the door, wrapping you in a hug as soon as you step inside.

"hey, baby,” he smiles, his hands resting on your waist. “got a present for you."

your cheeks warm. "but it's not my birthday or anything?" it's not uncommon for him to spoil you with gifts, but he never makes a show of it. he just hands you things like you've owned them all your life, little surprises popping up without explanation like the necklace with your birthstone on it or the box of chocolates he'd known you were craving.

"it doesn't need to be. just something special i want you to have." he runs his hand over your forehead, tucking a strand of hair gently behind your ear. "it's in the bedroom, if you wanna go take a look.”

you give him a suspicious look and pull away, slipping your shoes off and leaving him by himself. he doesn't follow you down the hall, just standing in place and folding his arms with a satisfied grin once he hears squeals coming from the bedroom.

the house goes silent for a moment, and then he sees you poke your head out into the hall. “minghao?”

“yes, baby?” he grins teasingly as he leaves the living room, meeting you in the bedroom where he finds you standing next to the bed. you raise an eyebrow at him and point at the pretty white lingerie set he'd laid out for you.

the thin lace stands out laying atop the dark bedsheets, accompanied by a pair of fluffy white wrist cuffs and a headband with soft floppy ears similar to the one worn by the lady at the store the other day but clearly much higher quality; maybe even custom or handmade. the finishing touch is a thin, white leather collar with a bow, and he can't help but smile as he surveys his layout.

“what is this?” you draw his attention away from the setup, and though your tone sounds accusing he can tell how secretly thrilled you are despite the way you try to downplay it.

“i told you,” he smirks. “a present.”

now it's your turn to cross your arms at him. “and why is it here?”

“because i thought you'd like it,” he says in a low voice, moving closer to you. “don't you wanna be my little bunny?”

you yelp in surprise but then sigh, finally giving in. “how'd you figure it out?”

“you're easier to read than you think, my love,” he chuckles. “i know you too well.”

“you don't… hate it?” you ask shyly, lifting your eyes to meet his gaze.

he wraps his arms around you again. “of course not. you know you could've just asked me, right?”

you scrunch your nose and pout. “i was nervous you wouldn't want to. or you'd think it's stupid.”

“you know i'd do anything you want, love. it's not stupid to me.” he leans over to press a quick kiss to your lips. “now, will you get changed for me? i can't wait to see my cute little honey bunny all dressed up.”

with a reluctant but excited squeal you push him out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him so that the reveal will be a surprise. minghao grins at the way you try to hide your enthusiasm, leaning against the doorway as he waits patiently.

finally you open the door just a crack and poke your head out, hiding your body behind it nervously. “ready?” you ask.

he nods, and with a deep breath you pull the door open all the way. you give him a little spin, the ears flopping against your hair as you show off the outfit. he smiles proudly as he joins you in the room, his fingers falling to your waist and backing you up against the bed.

“you look adorable, baby. just like i imagined,” he says in a husky voice, and you bite your lip shyly. “do you like it?”

you smile, and it's the prettiest thing he's ever seen. he'd buy you a million outfits and lingerie sets if it means he gets to see you like this every day. “i love it, hao. it's perfect.”

he sits down next to you at the edge of the bed and lifts his hand to pet your head, smoothing down your hair between the ears. you shiver in excitement, and it only makes him more eager to get started, his pants growing tighter every minute.

“i have one more present for you, mkay?” he leans away from the bed and pulls out an object from the dresser drawer. your breath catches in your throat when you realize what it is, a shiny silver plug with a round little white tail at the end that makes your heart race. “can’t be a bunny without a tail.”

you bite your lip and look at him, and he puts his hand on your thigh when you don't respond verbally. “is that okay?” he says gently, but your quick nod reassures him.

he stands up from the bed and quickly strips off his clothes, and you watch with lustful eyes as his cock slaps against his stomach, almost drooling at the sight. once he's ready you let him flip you over, kneeling down on your hands and knees with your ass readily pushed up in the air. he slips a finger under the seat of your panties, pulling them carefully to the side as he reaches over to grab the bottle of lube from the nightstand beside the bed.

you shiver as he pours the cool liquid over your ass before rubbing the toy against you to coat it. once he's satisfied with it he starts to drag the metal upwards, and you jump involuntarily as he presses the end of the plug against your hole. “mm— it’s cold,” you whine as he teases you with it once more before pulling it away.

“but it won’t be for long.” he chuckles at your reaction and rubs his free hand across your lower back soothingly, and you lean your hips into his touch. with a grin he bends down and presses his lips gently against your ass cheek, and you moan when his teeth graze your skin. “just relax for me, baby, that’s it…”

he begins easing the toy past your entrance, just a little bit at a time until it's fully enveloped inside you. you've played with plugs before, but somehow the stretch is like nothing you've ever felt. knowing that this time you've got a cute little bunny tail attached sends a new wave of desire throughout your body.

with one finger he carefully pulls your panties back into place to cover you up, admiring the fluffy tail that protrudes from your hole. it really does complete the outfit, and he smiles at his own thoughtfulness, proud of his handiwork.

you wiggle your hips to test it out, adjusting to the feeling of its weight stuffed inside of you. minghao's hand comes down hard on your ass and you yelp, bucking away from him in surprise. immediately you feel his hand gently touch your stinging cheek, rubbing small circles to massage the pain away. "fuck— sorry. don't know what came over me." he says, voice gravelly. "you just… you look so fucking good right now, baby. you make such a cute bunny."

your face flushes as the initial shock fades, and you push your hips back towards him encouragingly. "it's okay. you can do it again, if—if you want."

he grips your waist and pulls you against him, and you whine as you feel his hard length grinding into your ass. "if i'd known you'd like that, then i would have bought the matching paddle with the ears and the tail too," he groans. "this is why you gotta speak up, baby. gotta tell me what you want so i can give it to you."

you bite your lip and bury your face into the pillow, ears burning in embarrassment, but you quickly lift your head again when you feel his hand leave another sharp smack on your ass. "mm, mm, don't hide from me now, love." he tsks in disappointment, his voice laced with fake sympathy. "you wanna be an obedient little bunny for me, don't you? well-behaved bunnies get rewarded."

you start to answer, but he runs his cock against your clothed pussy and your head falls back down into the pillow instinctively, letting out a muffled string of moans. his tip teases you, pushing the lace into your wetness and back out again. "what was that, baby? i couldn't hear you."

you scrunch your nose and raise your voice, though it still only comes out as powerful as a squeak. "i said, i'll be good!"

he grins and squeezes your ass with both hands before he pulls your panties off all the way, tugging them down your legs until the thin fabric bunches up at your knees. he drags his cock over your dripping entrance again as you clench around nothing.

“hao,” you whine softly. you tilt your hips backwards to try and push him inside, but he leans back out of your reach.

“be patient.” he runs his hands along the curve of your ass, bending down to come face to face with your aching cunt. “think i’ll eat this pretty pussy first instead. is that what you want, hm? give me a nice view of your cute little bunny tail while i make you cum all over my tongue?”

you whimper in reply, hiding your face in embarrassment as you lay on your stomach with your ass pushed into the air, proudly displaying your glistening arousal.

with his hands on either side of your hips he pulls you towards his waiting mouth. you gasp into a moan when his lips latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking at the sensitive spot as his nose prods against your entrance.

he presses his tongue flat against you, licking upwards before pulling away. it was happening so fast, too fast, and you wanted more. you needed more. but you should’ve known better than to think he would give you what you want that easily.

“feels good?” he hums, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“please, hao,” you moan. “need you. please, i’ll be good. just don’t stop.”

he scoffs lightly, his face next to your cunt but still too far away for your liking. “and why should i do that? are you gonna behave next time and tell me when you want something?”

“mhm,” you nod weakly. “i will. promise. please, minghao—”

“that’s my good girl. now just let me take care of you, hm?” he presses his lips against your ass in a kiss and you whimper when he begins sucking, hard enough that you know it’ll leave a bruise later. once he’s satisfied he sits back up to his knees, reaching over to pat your head between the ears of your headband. “don’t you worry your fuzzy little head about a thing.”

you let out another moan at his words, relishing in the way he talks about you. it gets you going more than you could’ve ever imagined, and you love him for the way he’s embraced this so wholeheartedly, falling into the role so easily that you’re cursing yourself for ever trying to hide.

he slides back down behind you, using his thumbs to spread your folds apart to give him easier access as he pushes his tongue into you. you can feel yourself growing wetter every second that passes, coating his lips with your slick as he eats you out like a starving man.

he directs his attention away from your clit, tracing his tongue up until it reaches the underside of your tail and the tip of the plug poking out. just like he’d predicted the metal is warm now, heated by the warmth radiating from your holes.

he smooths his hands over your cheeks, kneading them with his slender fingers and pushing you back further into his face. his tongue darts out to lick around the edges of the toy in your ass, and you can’t help but squirm in his grasp as his mouth wanders between your legs, briefly moving back down to suck at your clit before licking upwards again.

your thighs tremble, feeling so much stimulation in ways you'd never knew possible. he traces his tongue over your pussy, dipping into your entrance before he sits back on his knees.

“you think you deserve to cum now?” he says, and even though you're facedown in the mattress you can still hear the teasing lilt in his voice. “has my little honey bunny earned it, do you think you've been a good girl?”

you're so fucked out already you can barely speak, but you know he wants you to beg him before he'll actually do anything. so you collect yourself and twist your head to look over your shoulder, bunny ears flopping against your back and the most pleading expression you can muster. “mhm… please? been such a good bunny for you.” you prove your point by wiggling your hips, shaking the little tail plug that sticks out of your ass back and forth.

he groans, hands squeezing your waist tighter. he can tell how much you wanted this, how much you're enjoying this, and who is he to deny you any longer when you've been so well behaved? “mm, alright.” he leans down over your back to kiss your shoulder, brushing your hair and your floppy ears out of the way. “gonna let you cum on my cock now, is that what my baby bunny wants?”

you nod eagerly and let out a yip as he finally sinks into you. you swear you've never felt this good in your life as he starts to fill you up, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

“so fucking tight,” he groans through gritted teeth when he finally bottoms out, his cock buried in your heat. “clenching so hard, i can barely move.”

“minghao—” you plead out his name, desperately trying to fuck yourself on his cock but his grip on your hips is too strong to let you have even a little bit of control.

he stays still for a minute to give you time to adjust, but that doesn't stop him from playing with your tail and tracing his fingers teasingly along your lower back, relishing in the way it makes you shiver and moan his name louder.

finally when neither you nor him can take it anymore, he starts to slide out of you, groaning at the way his shaft is already coated in your slick. he's not sure you've ever been this wet for him before— and you haven't even cum yet.

it doesn't take long for him to build up his pace, propelled by the sight of your cute little tail bouncing with each deep stroke. he spreads your cheeks apart to watch the spot where his length disappears inside you and groans, an idea hitting him as he digs his fingertips into your hips. “fuck, baby— want me to video this? you look so fucking good taking my cock, wanna let you see yourself.”

your walls clench around him faster than your lips can whimper out a “yes”. god, the thought that later you'll get to watch yourself, kneeling on the bed in your pretty lingerie getting fucked like the slutty little bunny you've always wanted to be? it's your biggest dream come true.

he gradually slows down his pace so he can reach over and grab his phone off the nightstand, fingers fumbling with the buttons to start the recording. he shifts his phone into one hand and uses his other to push down on your lower back, forcing you to arch up more for him.

his long fingers wrap around your side as he starts to thrust into you again, pulling you backwards to meet his cock with each stroke as he builds back up to a brutal pace. he holds the camera up by his chin to make sure he captures a full view of the scene, your pretty ass pushed into the air as a constant stream of whimpers and whines escapes you.

“look at my pretty bunny,” he pants out, squeezing your hip even harder as he fucks into you, knowing everything he says will be immortalized for your pleasure when you watch this together later. “look at you. so good for me, aren’t you?”

you moan out something unintelligible that sounds like a yes, and he rewards you by fucking you harder. he grins and moves his phone closer to your ass to get a better view of your pussy, close enough to see the glint of metal poking out and the way your muscles contract around both it and him with every thrust.

his eyes rake over your body, occasionally glancing at his phone screen to check the video. after a minute he stops the video and tosses his phone aside, quickly moving both hands back to grip your hips so he has more leverage to plunge into you more deeply. your arms give out from the force and you fall forward against the bed, whimpers muffled by the sheets that you grip so tightly to stay grounded to.

one of his hands suddenly leaves your hips and you feel his fingers tangle in your hair, gasping as he jerks your head up again.

“c’mon, baby,” he says, winding his hand around your hair until it tugs your scalp. it burns but it feels so good, sending a shiver down your spine as he pulls on you. “you’ve been so good for me, don’t ruin it now. you can take it. isn’t that right, bunny?”

“fuck,” you whimper as you strain your neck backwards, your tits pushed against the lacy front of your lingerie as you arch your back. “i can—i can take it. please… please.”

his other hand slides up your stomach, pulling you to sit upright with your back against his chest. if it weren’t for minghao’s grip on you, you doubt you’d have even been able to hold your head up on your own, let alone the rest of your body; his forearm wraps around your chest, holding you flush against his body. you swear he’s never fucked you this hard before in your life, slamming his hips into you so hard you already know you’ll be feeling this for days afterwards, his pace never tiring.

minghao is good at giving you what you want, but you’ve always been able to retain at least a little bit of control even in your most fucked out state. but tonight your head is reeling, mouth hanging open with not a single coherent thought running through your mind. maybe it’s the thrill of being “caught”, of him finally figuring out your secret fantasy and letting you play into it.

your first orgasm catches you off guard, overtaking you with no warning. you double over in minghao’s arms as you writhe against him, clenching so hard that even he can’t keep up the pace. his hips stutter as he struggles to continue thrusting, barely managing to even stay inside of you as your muscles contract and try to force his cock out from your pulsing walls.

“go on, baby, let go for me,” he breathes in a low voice against your ear, holding you tighter to keep you in place. “such a good bunny, cumming all over my cock.”

“cu—cumming!” you manage, and you squeeze your eyes shut as another wave slams into you.

he curses under his breath as he snakes his hand down the front of your body to toy with your clit. “fuck— that’s it, baby. let me have it, give me more. such a good girl.”

you lean your head back against his shoulder with another broken moan, all the tension suddenly leaving your body in a rush. the bed is soaked, his thighs are soaked, your pussy is soaked, but you can't stop. his fingers don't stop either, rubbing fast circles on your clit as you squirt.

after what seems like an eternity of cumming you claw at his fingers on your clit, weakly trying to pull his hand away. “h-hao,” you moan, your voice cracking. “wait. stop—”

his grip on your body loosens and he moves his hand before pulling out of you slowly, his cock still hard and aching and his heart pounding with adrenaline. immediately his tone is softer, keeping his voice quiet beside your ear despite his heavy breathing. “what is it, love, what do you need? can you tell me?”

you lean your head back to rest against his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to catch your breath. it’s hard. you can barely think straight from so much stimulation all at once, your head still cloudy from such intense orgasms back to back, and it takes a long few seconds before you can string together your thoughts. “just… need to slow down.” you find his hand on your thigh and squeeze his fingers with all the strength you can muster. “but don’t wanna stop.”

he exhales and turns his head to place a gentle kiss on your cheek. “okay, sweetheart. just let me know. i’m here.”

he knows he was getting a little carried away, but he wasn’t expecting this to get him so riled up. even after he’d figured you out and put his plan into motion he hadn’t once thought about how he felt, so focused on making sure you’d be happy with him.

he’d spent hours online looking for the perfect outfit for you, pretty lingerie that would be comfortable yet still make you feel as beautiful and sexy as you are to him. if only he hadn’t wanted it to be a surprise, because he kind of wishes you’d been able to see the grin on his face when he’d picked out the cutest little tail and ears to match.

he never considered how much he’d enjoy seeing you in the outfit, maybe even more than you, the lace hugging your body as you whimper and whine so cutely for him. if anything, he knows he's definitely going to get his money's worth out of your pretty costume set, because he's already planning out in his mind the next time you'll get to do this together.

you hum his name softly and it brings him out of his head, looking down at your hazy expression. this is still sort of new to him, but he’ll figure out how to handle it. he’s good at that.

“do you wanna lay down?” he asks, fingers tracing up and down your sides and gently toying with the fabric of your bra as he holds you against his body.

you hum in agreement and turn over in his arms, letting him slowly guide you onto your back as he hovers on his hands and knees above you.

you tug at your ears headband and toss it away, and instinctively his hands begin smoothing over your hair to carefully massage your scalp. “uncomfy?” he asks as your eyes flutter shut, a sweet smile on your face at his soothing touch.

“after a while, yeah,” you say softly, leaning your head into his fingertips. you open your eyes slowly, finding his face just inches above yours. “i’m still your bunny?” you ask a little shyly, watching his gaze.

he smiles and leans up to kiss your nose, a habit of his that now means so much more. “mhm. cutest bunny i’ve ever met. and she’s all mine.”

you can feel his throbbing cock resting atop your stomach, and you sigh out his name, reaching up to pull him down to meet your lips. “minghao…” you lift your hips a little, whimpering quietly in response when he groans from the pressure.

“ready to go again?” he breathes, and at your nod he positions his cock back at your entrance, pushing in slowly. the stretch is easy this time and it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out again, bending over you to leave kisses all over your face as you readjust to him.

you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining softly as you squeeze his bicep to try to get him to move. even just having him completely still inside of you feels incredible, but you're eager for more, almost insatiable for him. you don't want this to end just yet.

“god—” he chokes out, thrusting once into you so deep that it makes your head spin. “i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that. not gonna last much longer.”

maybe he’s delirious from so much in one night, but minghao swears you clench harder when he says that. you shake your head, trying to pull him even closer. “don’t care. just want you to fill me up, please?”

he lets out another groan, long and low as he pushes his hips in and out in a slow but steady rhythm. “oh, is that what you want? you want me to breed you? pretty bunny wants to be full of my cum?”

between his dirty talk and the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you, your mind goes blank, and all you can manage is a squeak and a nod and a prayer that he’ll figure it out, how badly you want him to do exactly that. despite everything he’s already given you tonight, you’re absolutely desperate for it, and if you could recall words and sentences right now you would’ve started begging him like your life depended on it.

luckily for you he knows you just as well as he says he does, because he adjusts his hips and thrusts deeper into you, his cock angled upwards to hit you just right with every stroke as filthy words spill from his lips.

“gonna fuck you so full,” he huffs, and you stare wide eyed at the sweat dripping down his cheekbones as he pounds you into the mattress. “taking it so well, gonna breed you like my bunny deserves, stuff you so full. my pretty little bunny, always so desperate for me…”

he doesn't stop, his words beginning to ramble as he focuses all his energy on thinking about your pretty eyes and the sweet, fucked out look on your face that he knows you always get when he cums inside of you because he knows how much you love it.

“please… please,” you whimper, your fingers gripping onto his shoulders so tight, and you know he's right at the edge. each stroke fills you completely, and the pressure from both his cock and the plug still inside you makes you dizzy with pleasure.

minghao buries his face in your collarbone, biting down to muffle his groans as he cums. your own mouth falls open in a gasp as you feel his cock jerk against your walls, pulsing with each thick rope of cum he releases inside. his breath catches in his throat and forces his cock deeper, his pelvis firmly pressed against yours as far in as he can possibly go.

with shaky hands and even shakier breaths, you wrap your arms around him and hold his head against your chest, your heart still racing as you come down together. he doesn't try to pull out yet, laying down on top of you and letting his weight cover you. you whimper softly as you feel his cum seeping out of you, running down the backs of your thighs.

after a minute he sighs, looking up at you to make sure you're still okay. “was that alright?” he asks, but your lazy grin tells him all he needs to know.

“love, hey.” he tilts your chin to make you look at him, brushing his thumb against your cheek to make sure you're paying attention. “promise me one thing. next time, just tell me if there's something you wanna try. okay?” he says. his tone is still quiet and gentle, but you can tell he's serious.

as fun as it is to play this game, he'd much rather you just come to him and talk about it, even if you think it's silly or stupid. he knows it's hard to talk about things you want, but he feels comfortable enough to tell you anything and he hopes one day you'll feel the same, without him having to pry.

“mhm,” you hum sincerely, smiling in contentment at the soft feeling of his fingers on your skin. “i will.”

despite your mumbled voice he can tell you're being genuine with him, and he rewards you with a gentle kiss.

you giggle and run your fingers through his hair, basking in the warm, fuzzy feeling that radiates both inside and out. “so… next time you're gonna wear the outfit, right?”

he laughs and kisses you again, happy that you seem so satisfied after everything. “well, that depends on whether or not you've been a good bunny.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist will be in the comments under this fic since tumblr is having problems with mentions, i can't add them as i usually do. if you'd like to join and be notified when i post a new fic, you can fill out this short form here! :)

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missydior · 4 months

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love letters ౨ৎ

♡: an eternity of silent, mutual yearning and friendship that flourishes into something new when feelings are finally confessed.

notes: charles leclerc/reader, friends to lovers, humour, fluff, confessions.

type: smau & writing ・ fc: lila moss

a/n: my favourite trope ever mwah 🤍🤍 this feels a little messy and stuff but I had a lot of fun writing it and hope you feel the love all over it I have, ily

liked by friendusername, charlesleclerc and 313,983 others

yourusername: hello from the birthday girl here <3 thank you so much for all of the kind messages, wishes & gifts. sending lots of love

3,122 comments

friendusername: happy bday to our favourite girl ever 🍰🫶🏼

yourusername: 🤍🤍🤍

user1: happy birthday to our favourite paddock princessss

charlesleclerc: did you like the cake I bought you then, or?

yourusername: I loved it until you threw half of it in my face

charlesleclerc: it tasted nicer that way

franciscagomes: bday girl !!

yourusername: i love youu

franciscagomes: i love you more 🤍

pierregasly: what about me?

franciscagomes: today is about y/n. shush.

I. Your Birthday.

After hours spent with café au lait and too much maple syrup on pancakes in the morning with gift receiving and wishes, a quiet luncheon with those closest to your heart, enjoying the beauty of the shores and rosé champagne, evening eventually settles in a beautiful colour against the heavens of Monaco.

You have never been one for the dramatics or high attention of crowds, settling on an intimate celebratory affair amongst close friends and family: pretty dresses and glasses of Lavender French '75 or those strawberry daiquiris that Ésme is in love with; a sweet, favourite song heard in the background.

Charles arrives fashionably late, the collar of his white-linen shirt loosened and soft, dark-brunet hair slightly tousled as he comes near, the sight of a smile on his face you've always loved, dimples revealed.

There is a certain relief that comes with being graced by his presence, like you had been silently longing and waiting for his greeting before anybody else's, though you disguise it from any chance of teasing.

"(Y/N)," Your name rolls off his tongue like caramel, accentuated as he shifts to kiss both your cheeks in friendly affection before he chuckles at your expression, "Happy birthday." Mon ange.

"Thank you," You breathe, a laugh falling past your mouth at the sight of him in manifestation, inclining your head when you look at him through your lashes, "I was beginning to think you forgot."

"Forget? Me?" The Monegasque exclaims as though wounded, placing his hand to his chest though the smile about his sun-kissed visage never dissipates, stealing a nearby glass of champagne, "Never. I had some work to finish."

There is an edge of teasing beneath your looks, a dance of butterflies in your stomach when he touches the small of your back fleetingly as he shifts past with that signature wink of his, all friendly and humorous in years of friendship, and yet your heart stutters.

You almost say something else, confessions and thoughts that want to erupt from your chest like love letters you have never sent – certain it is merely the liquor fogging your judgement – but he's wandered away with a final promise before a syllable can come forth.

"Let me get the birthday girl a drink, oui?"

liked by franciscagomes and 311,646 others

yourusername: july with my favourite people <3

mentioned charlesleclerc, friendusername, franciscagomes and two others

1,354 comments

user1: literal angels

user2: second pic is definitely y/n and charles

friendusername: you still owe me another ice cream 🍨

yourusername: sorry bby, i’ll be at your front door with a double vanilla ice cream soon <3

franciscagomes: 🤍🤍

II. At the beach.

Warm light kisses your skin like heavenly delight, a forgotten copy of Paris' Vogue beside where you are currently bathing with a finished strawberry lemonade, long lashes fluttering when you open your eyes to gaze at the skies above in the heat of July, a mosaic of white and cerulean about the Côte d'Azur.

Most of the others have momentarily departed for the nearby café for new sweet treats, though you are consciously aware of a half-dozing Charles Leclerc nearby against the slight flush down the bridge of his nose and eyelashes that ghost about his cheekbones where he is lying.

Pure bliss; perfect heaven.

"Charles?"

It takes him a second, the mention of his name rousing him to blink out of a hazy hint of a dream with the tilt of his chin towards the direction of your voice that calls to him like an angel's symphony, squinting against the haze of light before a lazy, boyish smile reveals his pearlescent teeth, "Mm?"

Shifting upright, consciously trying not to stare at him for too long though you have come to simply welcome and fall used to the sight of his naked chest, all smooth ridges and lean muscle, you absently adjust the ribbons of your pretty bikini and reach for sun cream.

"Do you think you could help me put some on my back, please?" You ask politely, offering him the item whilst shifting on your knees and gathering the edges of your hair over your shoulder that have fallen loose.

He does not respond initially, not until he's sat upright and shifted closer with a kind edge of a smile that dances across his face, "Oui."

Charles does not hesitate or take advantage of the circumstances, applying the fine lotion against the curve of your shoulders with gentle ministrations and lower down, fingertips feather-light, careful not to linger too long.

The act feels oddly intimate as you gaze towards the serene shores, like his touch is meant for the most secret parts of you, an unconscious shiver and the subtle arching of your vertebrae when he traces a particular area. Whether he notices or not, there is no indication given, instead continuing in a method that seems entirely platonic but leaves an ache in your stomach.

"Merci," You tell him once the deed is most finished and he draws away, shifting just enough to offer a look of him from the corner of your eye in a gratuitous smile.

You wonder if how his gaze lingers is the same way yours does, like a painting worth admiring or a flower in emergence, heart thrumming quicker under your sternum before the moment is broken when he clears his throat.

"Of course."

III. A dinner.

Caffè Milano, a quaint but fanciful and warm establishment tucked in the quiet luxuries of Monaco's principality with its dancing chandeliers, oak-varnished furniture and beloved menu.

A semblance of familiarity, pleasantry and polished glasses clinking against the rhythm of conversation amongst friends in the warm afternoon: a lingering aroma of roses from the centrepiece décor neatly arranged and fine cuisine.

"– Non, I am not lying," Pierre is recounting a recent, humorous anecdote of experience, thumb idly tracing the edge of his wine glass whilst you and the others listen on, your cheeks beginning to hurt from how much you have laughed in the recent half-an hour, idly toying with the necklace resting at the hollow of your throat in common fashion.

"You are." Francisca frowns, albeit fondly.

Your concentration is removed from their talk when there is a subtle caress against the ankle bone, a touch beneath the furniture and a fleeting glance from your peripheral sight at the Monégasque beside you, all handsome smiles and that addictive song of laughter whilst a stray hair falls about his eyebrow, though he does not seem to show any degree of deliberation or notice that his shoe idly touches you there.

You have the urge to hold him, caress him, to press a thousand, butterfly kisses along his jaw and say something you should not. Instead, you continue to listen and nurse the last of your Château-Chalon.

1,596 likes

f1gossip: y/n at the grand prix this weekend <3 our paddock princess is back

mentioned yourusername

333 comments

user1: she looks divineee

user2: charles and y/n friends to lovers when?

user3: leave them alone, they’re just friends and have been since childhood

IV. A balcony.

Charles had forgotten his keys somewhere and, until his dear brother could come and return them, you had offered the warmth of your welcomed apartment: all minimalist but homely in décor against a palette of cream, white and the like all complemented by paintings and furniture.

One hour had melted into two by the late afternoon with dusk's slow kiss, hints of lilac and grey in the edge of the skies, your cats curled contently on the plush chaise lounge and resting after endless affections from the Monégasque who seemed to be in love with them.

"Can I join you?"

The voice – honest and clear, albeit a fraction amused – is recognisable as you are drawn out of reverie on the balcony of rocaille motifs, gazing into quiet streets below and the nearby public gardens flourishing with flora, gnawing at your inner cheek as you look to the man where he leans against the threshold, a look in his eye that comes with a subtle indulgence after he stole your favourite bottle of rosé in the kitchenette.

"Of course, yes." Always.

He stands beside you, a few inches apart with his elbow resting against the intricate balustrade when he follows your dreamy stare for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. There is a comfort between the two of you, something you know must come from years of familiarity:

An seemingly endless, innocent youth that manifested in its complications as you aged and neared adolescence, like an evening primrose that flowers and sometimes falls apart, but always returns, even changing with senescence. With age.

You can feel his gaze, almost like an internal, silent imploration for your own, the edges of your fingers and nails polished in a rose quartz-esque varnish that glitters prettily in the evening, and his lips are parted just enough as if wanting to say something before they curve a little higher on the edges, his words hushed.

"Have you ever thought about love?"

Your eyebrows raise a fraction, though it is not so unexpected of a question and one that has been on the edge of your tongue since forever, even with the doubtful inkling that he has merely enjoyed too much wine.

"Sometimes," All of the time. You murmur, a soft, breathless chuckle following as you shrug and tilt your head upwards, gazing above like some wished answer or instruction from the angels or whoever listens, "Why do you ask?"

"Because," His response is delayed, though his answer is sincere and thoughtful like he has been thinking over his words since a time he can't remember until his fingertips touch your elbow fleetingly, "I can't stop thinking about it."

There is a moment, a single fragment, in which you meet his eyes, his touch is known and everything seems to pause like a finished painting, a still image in a history book: his hand, his body and his eyes – the colour of autumn, earth, hints of something else so unique to him.

"Charles, what are you saying?" You laugh softly, looking away momentarily and toying with the knitted wool of your soft cardigan with the kind of feigned indifference that comes with disguising truth, "I didn't think you were a romantic, who has caught your eye?"

For a moment, you wish he would say someone's name, a blessed girl that you have never heard of, so that you can deny your own feelings and settle on the painful reality that you are merely friends.

Instead, his gaze flickers, almost nervously, and a palm cradles the curve of your cheek and jaw with the hesitance of a man of conflicting considerations even when he tries to smile a little. "Please, forgive me."

There is not an instance given to allow any insistence or inquiry as Charles presses a kiss upon your mouth: it is not rushed and there is a desperation there that is not greedy, tasting the remnants of your lipstick and rosé, slow and methodical – longer when you indulge and welcome the feeling.

He does not draw away completely when the feeling ends, his forehead lightly pressed to yours and his touch a little firmer where his fingers curl into your hair, swallowing slowly as his eyes close for a moment until he dares meet your stare once more.

"(Y/N)?"

You smile.

"Je t'aime." There is something in his face you have never seen before, something raw and open like an unfurling rose revealing itself, and you know that your heart is his and his alone.

Another kiss with your prompting, fingertips tracing the soft cotton of his shirt near the shoulder until you drape arms about his shoulders, breathing him in with hints of raspberry, amber and cinnamon, "I love you."

There is poetry in his eyes like those unsent love letters shoved under your pillow, and he delves in, holding you close and intimate until you're most certain, mutually, of the silent yearning you have felt for one another for years.

"C'mere," He mumbles, an arm drawing around the back of your thighs as he picks you up and holds you securely, and you cannot help but laugh in pure, unadulterated glee at his touch and affections, the bottle of rosé abandoned as the night settles in and you are whisked away.

He loves you.

♡ ✧ 。*・.

a/n: please don't forget to interact, like, etc. <3

#𝜗𝜚 my works #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 x female reader #f1 fluff #f1 x you #f1 fic #formula 1 smau #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff

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lovelettersfromluna · 11 months

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Supercut

Summary: “In my head, I play a supercut of us.”

an: halfway through writing this I decided that this isn't technically the finale hehe, more of cam girl!Ellie come, this is just the end of them being stupid. mwah mwah love you all more than you know.

Warnings: SMUT!! 18+, MDNI, angst, cam girl!ellie, Ellie is a real idiot in this one tbh, arguing, hurt/eventual comfort, toxic!Ellie, tribbing, making out, pet names, this one is a little short im sorry, lmk if I missed anything!!!

Read part 1 here, and part 2 here!

You know that gross feeling you get whenever you look back at old pictures or videos? You know, the one that you feel at the pit of your stomach, and it makes you really happy but also really sad? What's that called again?

Oh, right. Its melancholy

It's that feeling where you have a specific memory, and you know that no matter what, that time is gone. You can't replicate it, and the only place that it will live is in the confides of your own mind

And it sucks, because you don't even know when those moments are going to be made. There's no warning in your brain that the day you have planned is going to be so impactful to your life, that you will constantly chase that feeling, trying to replicate what it was that made that time so blissful so that you can feel that same warmth again.

You don't even get the chance to savor it while it lasts.

It almost makes you feel like you never wanted those times to happen to begin with, because you would have been fine without them. Sacrifice one of the times of your life so that you wouldn't have to spend countless nights laying in bed, only hoping that you will experience something that can even come close to how it all felt in the past.

Most of the time, it's easy to simply look back at those memories, feel that disgusting mixture of happiness and sadness, and then move on.

But for some god awful reason, you can't seem to do that this time.

This time, it lingers. It sits there, knocking at your chest, demanding to be acknowledged, to have all of your undivided attention, giving you no choice but to think about how fucked up this all is, how all of this was a complete and utter mistake, and how you have no way in taking it back.

It makes you wish time travel was real, yearning for some mad scientist to come out and say 'look everyone! you can reverse the mistakes you've made in the past!'.

But that doesn't happen, and you have no choice but to live with the icky feeling that settles at the pit of your stomach, and refuses to go away.

You weren't entirely sure what would happen after that night with Ellie, the night that she laid her weight on top of you, fucking you into her mattress over and over again, whispering the sweetest words into the nape of your neck, holding you the entire night through once you were finished, silence overcoming the space as you both fell into a blissful sleep.

It was hard to really tell where you both stood, but you weren't an idiot.

You knew, that you and Ellie had made love that night.

It was truly like nothing you had ever experienced. It was like you were constantly in that delicious state before sleep, where the world is soft, and everything is so comfortable right before you reach the point of unconsciousness, and everything feels so utterly perfect.

That's what it felt like, and you knew that from the moment Ellie had pulled you against her chest, and pressed a soft kiss to your head before you both fell asleep.

It happened, but God....you really wished it hadn't.

Because now? Things were so much fucking worse.

The feeling Ellie gave you scared you, and it made the ugliest thoughts fill your head when you woke up. You felt wrong, the skin on your body feeling filthy for doing something so intimate with her, with your roommate. You felt like you were taking something that wasn't yours, something that was never meant for you in that way.

So you ran.

Not far, of course. You were lucky enough to wake up before Ellie, gently peeling yourself from her body, your stomach sinking whenever she mumbled something gently in her sleep, her hands mindlessly reaching for your body before she fell back into her deep slumber.

You stood over her for a moment, watching as her eyes flickered in her sleep, lips parted as she snored gently. The feeling you had when you watched her sleep scared you, because you felt...like you wanted to stay with her, protect her, hold her in your arms and ignore the reality of how much this was fucking with your head, ignore the fact that she had simply wanted help with her work.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You inhaled deeply before you left her room, closing her door gently before you quickly went to your bedroom, tugged on a t shirt and jeans before you grabbed your jacket and left the apartment.

You stayed out in the city all day, that day. You were like a ghost, trying to sort out the feelings that were settling in your chest, opting to simply ignore them instead. You made sure to leave your phone at home, knowing any texts from Ellie wouldn't do you any good with how you were feeling.

You didn't return home until later that afternoon, the sun setting, slowly casting the familiar darkness of night onto the city that you had come to know. You wished you could stay out longer, avoid the situation more, but it was only gettin colder, and you knew you had to go back to your apartment sooner or later.

When you got there, you were greeted by silence. You don't even hear Ellie's usual music playing from inside her room. You frowned softly, looking around a bit for any signs of the girl there. You looked down, finding that her leather jacket and helmet weren't where they usually were.

Ellie had left too.

You should've been happy at that, giving you even more time away from the girl than planned, yet you can't ignore the ugly tinge of sadness and annoyance that lingers at the back of your throat at the thought of here simply...leaving.

When you got to your room, you quickly grabbed your phone, wishfully thinking that there would be a string of messages from your roommate, asking you where you've gone, and if everything is okay between you both.

But when you unlock your phone, there's nothing there.

Not a single call, or a single text.

And you suddenly realized, that great minds think alike.

So, that's how things go with you and Ellie after that. There isn't a grand scene of love, where you both confess that you had both felt that way from the moment you set eyes on each other, there isn't a happily ever after where you become her girl, and she becomes yours. There isn't any of that, you two simply go from being friends, to barely being roommates.

You guys never speak about it. There's never a conversation that happens to even clear the air, pretending as though that night in her bedroom never happened.

There's a sense of hostility that follows after all of it happens, because Ellie won't even fucking look at you now, let alone stand in the same room as you. If you're in the living room, she's in her bedroom, and if you're in the kitchen, she leaves the apartment to go eat somewhere else.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, because you can practically feel the hatred she has for you radiating off of her body whenever she's around, and it's a shock to you that you two are still even living together. The Ellie that would once sit in the living room with you, practically tugging your body to sit on her lap, has succumb to someone who barely even exists to you anymore.

And it doesn't even end there.

Ellie never really had girls in and out of the apartment before, even before you and her started filming and having sex. She was pretty strict about letting others into her space, only ever bringing around girls she was dating long term, or her designated filming partner. You never had a problem with it, letting Ellie know time and time again that the place was half hers, and she could bring whoever she wanted.

But that seemingly changed after you and her happened.

Because suddenly, there's a different girl at your apartment every night, and Ellie is fucking them ten different ways into the next month.

And it always happens to be on the nights before you have to wake up early to go in and open the record store.

She becomes relentless.

You first noticed it happening when she breezed past you on a Friday night, clearly dressed up for a night out. You couldn't really ignore the way your core tightened at how fucking good she looked, the feeling quickly overshadowed by the way she yet again left the house as if you weren't sitting right there.

After getting yourself to bed for some much needed shut eye, you were rudely awakened by the sound of your front door slamming open, followed by the sound of tumbling and soft giggles..

Which then slowly turned into the sounds of Ellie fucking a girl in her bedroom that was directly across from yours.

And it kept going, night after night, the sound of Ellie pleasuring another woman was all that you were left with. Not even your headphones on full volume could drown out the banging of Ellies headboard against the wall.

You have never been a jealous person, especially when it came to Ellie and her sex life. However, after what happened between the both of you, and the very clear fact that Ellie was indeed doing it out of spite..

You really couldn't ignore the fire you felt at the pit of your stomach whenever you heard some random girl moaning out Ellie's name to the top of her fucking lungs.

It was then that you came to terms with the fact that enough was enough.

And you had to move out.

It wasn't long until you wouldn't leave your room.

You seriously couldn't stomach the way it felt, being ignored by Ellie, her constant avoidance a reminder of how much of a bad idea it was to agree to filming with her in the first place. If that wasn't enough, constantly seeing her leave the apartment to go meet up with another girl started to hurt even more.

And you really didn't want to face the truth behind that.

There was something unsettling that came with the feeling it gave you, because how could you go from not even batting an eyelash at Ellie walking out of her bedroom with Julia, to feeling tears prickle at the edge of your eyes every time you heard her fucking someone else across from your room.

Because it's cruel, and you know you were wrong to leave her the way you did, but she left too. You knew that what you did was wrong, but surely you didn't deserve all of this? And why would she even want to hurt you like this in the first place? Surely you were the only one that felt this ridiculous conflicting feeling that only brought you stress.

And yet, you only found new ways to torture yourself.

It happens one night after work, you're tired and all you want to do is peel off your clothes and hop into bed.

Opting to grab your laptop, wanting to watch some mindless video on the internet to lull you to sleep, you are suddenly faced with something that had been waiting to haunt you.

A link to one of your videos with Ellie was still on your browser.

She had sent it to you a while ago, wanting to show you how well it was doing, and all the positive feedback that it was receiving, you meant to watch it at the time, but never got around to it. Now, it was sitting there, collecting dust until you decided to open it.

And you knew you shouldn't have, because that chapter of your life has closed, and you intended to keep it fully closed.

But curiosity did kill the cat, didn't it?

You didn't think twice before opening it, the link quickly flashing across your screen and taking you to Ellie's page. The thumbnail is of the two of you, the last video you guys had filmed. Its you, straddling Ellie on her bed, her strong hands gripping your hips, probably forcing you to grind down on her lap.

You feel your core tighten at the sight of it.

You don't look at it much longer, or read the comments either, because you know they will all be asking where you've gone, and whether or not you were coming back.

Instead of closing your laptop and going to sleep like you should have, you kept scrolling through Ellies page. You come to find the usual, seeing that she had been live the past few nights, as well as posted a few videos for her viewers to catch up on, none of it out of the ordinary.

Something does catch your eye however.

Its a video that was posted a few nights ago, and you can barely make it out, but you can see a thumbnail of Ellies tattooed hand pushed between a girls thighs, doing what you can only assume to be fingering her.

And that girl is definitely not you.

She had found herself a new partner.

It’s no shock that she did. She’d been actively fucking other girls, someone in and out of your apartment almost every night, something that she had made sure to make very clear to you…

But there was just something about actually seeing it that hurt like hell

You slammed your laptop shut, a bit too hard, but you were suddenly filled with something foreign to you, something that you hardly felt for anyone.

Quickly grabbing you blankets and tugging them over your body, you squeezed your eyes shut to try and erase the image of Ellie with another girl from your brain, the image slowly tainting the deepest corners of your mind so that you won't ever be able to do just that.

You couldn't do this anymore.

Ellie was just as bad at talking about her feelings as you were.

Because the morning after you and her had sex, she wanted nothing more than to wake up with you, kiss you, hold you, move on from this agonizingly slow phase that you two were in, where she was allowed to do the things that she always wanted to do, just conditionally.

She wanted to wake up, and move forward whatever the fuck you and her were stuck in.

But you didn’t. You simply woke up before her, and left, leaving Ellie to feel like a fucking idiot.

Because maybe she read into the entire thing wrong, maybe you didn’t feel anything for her, maybe you really did only see her as your roommate and nothing more than that….

Maybe that look in your eye that she was sure she saw when she was fucking you, was all in her head.

So when you ran, she did too.

And soon, Ellie’s sadness turned into anger, and all she wanted to do, was hurt you the same way that you hurt her.

She wanted you to hear her with other girls, she wanted you to see her with other women on her streams, she wanted you to see what it was that you’d lost, what you’d stupidly lost when you decided to run away from her the morning after it all.

But maybe she’d taken it too far.

Because Ellie’s anger turned into something that she didn’t want, because no matter how much noise she made, how good she tried to look whenever she was getting ready to go out with some random girl, no matter what she did to make you jealous, you never batted an eyelash her way, you never once reacted to anything that she did that was directed at you for the sole purpose of getting your attention.

And not only did it further prove to Ellie that you didn’t give a fuck about her, but it also made her so much more frustrated with you.

Did you seriously not have a fucking soul? Could you not even acknowledge her? Hurt for her? Feel hurt by her? Why wasn’t it working? Why weren’t you…..why couldn’t you just…..

Why couldn’t you just fucking want her.

Ellie was truly at her last straw, because being with other women was something she already didn’t like doing, but it was slowly eating away at her, picking away at her insides and making her feel hollow inside, a shell of who she used to be when she was with you.

And when she didn’t think things could get any worse, she found you doing something she only saw in her nightmares.

She hadn’t really noticed it at first, but slowly, your belongings began to disappear from the apartment. Particularly in the living room.

Your stack of blankets would get smaller and smaller as the week went by, the dorky little figures you had littered around different shelves and the tv stand started to disappear too, little parts of you started leaving, one by one, and Ellie was too far up her own ass to even notice.

Maybe if she had, she could’ve convinced you to stay.

In all honesty? Ellie probably wouldn’t even have realized you were leaving until it was too late, the girl far too consumed in her little revenge streak to notice the slow but sure disappearance of you, the way the remnants of you slowly began to leave one by one.

It just so happened that on a day that you were packing up some of your boxes, you had left your door cracked open, thinking that Ellie wasn’t home.

She was passing by your room when she heard a soft huff, the sound quickly catching her attention as she slowly walked towards your door, catching sight of the various opened boxes scattered around your room that was already looking sparse due to packing it all the way.

That. That was the straw the broke the camels fucking back.

Because suddenly, Ellie is pushing your door open, the force from her hand making it slam against your wall, the loud sound making you flinch to look over in her direction with wide eyes.

“Ellie?” You question softly.

The sound of her name rolling off your tongue makes a shiver run down her spine, because god….had she missed the way you said it.

Her eyes are angry, eyebrows furrows together as her eyes scan your room, looking at the boxes, your half empty closet, your empty book shelf.

“What the fuck is going on here?” She spits out, her tone making you wince slightly. It’s the first time you’ve heard her speak to you in almost an entire month and it’s so fucking hostile, so pointed.

This really wasn’t how you wanted this to go.

You let out a soft sigh, bringing your palm up to ran along your face as you look down at the boxes as well, heart sinking at the thought of going.

“Look…Ellie…I was planning on telling you…I just-“ she’s quick to cut you off, walking further into your bedroom as her eyes scan the walls, watching as they began to grow emptier and emptier the further in she looked. She scoffs, her green eyes finally landing on yours, her smoldering grip enough to take your breath away.

“Bull-fucking-shit. You weren’t going to tell me anything, and you know that” she argues, nostrils flared as she stares at you with eyes filled with that same glare of hate that you saw every time she’d glaze over you within recent weeks.

And she was right. You had no intention of telling her anything. She would learn that you were gone once you were gone, because that’s what you did.

You always ran.

You let out a sigh of defeat before you step away from her, fully intending on continuing packing. You didn’t want this to stop you, or put anymore obstacles in your way of leaving. This was what you had to do, and you knew that.

“I can’t stay here anymore, Ellie…things are fucked up between us and I just…I won’t deal with it anymore” you mumble out, your voice tired, weak. A clear indication of how you felt towards the entire situation. It was draining you, and you knew that for your own well being, you had to get out.

The sight of you packing as if she wasn’t in your room, trying to figure out why you were leaving, makes her even more upset. It blinds her from your words, from the weakness in your voice, in your appearance. She ignores it because the anger she feels is much easier to indulge in.

"So that's it? You're just gonna leave? Without saying anything to me?" she barks out, her tone making you feel worse than you already do.

And then it all stops, because why the hell are you feeling bad when this isn't even your fault.

You slowly turn to Ellie, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare at her in disbelief, cocking your head to the side slowly before you start to speak.

"Are you listening to yourself right now, Ellie? Do you ever stop to think for one second that not everything is about you?" The tone of your voice is so calm, words so slow and articulated, it barely even sounds like you're mad.

And it scares you, and it scares her.

You don't stop there, you couldn't even if you wanted to.

"This wasn't my idea, none of it was. I agreed to help you because you asked it of me, and I clearly have no fucking sense of boundaries. I get that what I did was wrong, and I shouldn't have left you that morning, but no one is fucking perfect" You defend, your own breath become more shallow the more you speak, your anger and frustration finally rising to the surface.

"This isn't good for me. You aren't good for me, you've been fucking different girls every goddamn night just to hurt me, and you're a fucking liar if you deny it." you spit out, making Ellie wince slightly, yet her eyebrows never unravel from how furrowed they are, and the frown on her lips is still there.

When you said it out loud though, she realized just how bad it was.

"I did it to get your fucking attention...not to hurt you" She barely whispers, staring down at you. You can't help but laugh softly, scoffing at her words before you give her a gentle sigh.

"Oh it got my attention, Ellie. It got it so much, that I can't bare for you to have it anymore..." you mumble out softly before you turn away from her, unable to stare into her eyes for any longer.

"I don't know what happened between us that morning...but I want nothing more than to just..forget about it all" You let out meekly, feeling yourself reduce to that small ball of insecurities once again.

And Ellie finally softens when she sees it, because you never let your guard down this much.

She inhales deeply, taking a step towards you, trying to get closer to you. You don't step back, or flinch, you simply ignore her, carrying on to pack your things as if she wasn't there, standing above you.

"You hurt me too...you know" she mumbled out, her voice finally dropping that hostile tone that she had when she first walked in. You're quick to turn towards her, spinning around to set your eyes that were quickly growing redder by the second.

"And Im sorry!" you shout, your voice going the loudest it had yet, it makes Ellie flinch.

You sigh out tiredly before you bring your hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "If I could go back and do it differently..I would..but too much has happened, Ellie...I don't..." you trail off, struggling to find the proper words before you sigh softly, finally speaking again.

"I don't see you the same way, anymore" you mumble out.

This makes Ellies heart seize up, because what do you mean by that? What are you trying to tell her?

You move to sit on your knees, you bare legs coming in contact with the cold, wooden floor as you begin packing more things in a different box. There's no more fighting, there isn't anymore arguing, or anger, it's just silent, the occasional sound of your clothes hitting each other when they hit you settle them in the box. You don't even bother to turn around and yell at Ellie, or even tell her to get out.

And maybe thats what's hurting her the most. You never yelled, you didn't cry or beg, you didn't do anything when she knew you heard her, saw her with those other girls. All of them were nothing to her, sorry attempts at trying to grab hold of your attention again, get you to show just a little bit of fucking anger, so that she knew you still felt something for her, so that she knew she still had you.

But it was clear to her with the way that you disregarded her after it all, as if she didn't even matter, that she didn't have you anymore.

Did she ever? Did she ever have a chance with you? Was she all in her head? Were you simply just a good friend? A decent roommate who promised to help her out when she needed help? Was all of it just....

Pretend?

She feels like she's running out of options, because she assumed that if anything, you two would fight and end up in a heated, passionate love making session where you two would admit what you had felt all along.

But Ellie was slowly coming to the conclusion that she was being fucking delusional.

Her decisions didn't let up thought, because soon, she's on her knees next to you, grabbing your wrists gently in her hands and pulling you to face her. She feels her heart break when you refuse, trying to pull away from her grasp, mumbling soft complaints of how you needed to finish packing.

When she finally tugs you a bit harder, forcing you to look at her, she feels the weight of her mistakes finally settle on her chest, because you're crying. Your eyes are puffy and your cheeks are stained, and it's all her fucking fault.

She bites back a whimper, tugging her bottom lip into her mouth as she feel her own throat burn with tears.

"Hey...look at me...come on...where's my pretty girl...come on.." She tries over and over again, voice breaking, making you whimper as you try tugging your arms from her grasp.

"Don't you see how fucked up this is, Ellie? We were just screaming at each other and now...now you're calling me your girl" you plead with her, the words bubbling past your lips as the mere sight of here forces more tears from your eyes, making it harder and harder to talk.

Ellie can't talk her way out of this one, not with you. She knows there isn't much she can do, or say, and she feels like she's all out of options, because you're right. All of this is so fucked up, and it makes her insides burn because she's hurt, and you're hurt, and it feels like there's nothing she can do to fix it.

She does the only thing she feels will work. She kisses you.

It's filled with everything. Passion, longing, happiness, sadness, anger, everything that had been pent up between the both of you is poured into the kiss, and it's enough to make you feel dizzy.

But you don't pull away, you melt into her, just like you always do. She feels it too, feels the way you let you defenses down, taking it as a chance to tug your wrists up and around her neck, her own arms resting on your hips as she pulls you closer, her lips working against yours.

"Im....fuck...im so sorry, baby....never meant to hurt you" She mumbles against you, her words coming out as a breathy sigh against your lips, making you moan softly against her. She pushes her tongue into your mouth, giving your waist a soft squeeze.

"M'sorry too..Ellie....shouldn't have left..." You whine against her, and she's quickly shaking her head, gently tugging you up to stand with her before she's pulling you too your bed.

"Just...lemme take care of you..alright" She hums against your lips before she gently pushes you back to lay on your bed, her own body crawling over yours, resting her weight on your body as she goes back to kissing you.

It's so slow, and sensual, and it feels like the entire world is quiet, like you're fading into her, and she's fading into you, and you both are becoming one. It feels so fucking right, and the hole that had been growing in your chest is finally filling up, the essence that is Ellie slowly acting as the medicine that you needed all along.

Ellie rolls over, gripping your hips and tugging you to straddle her waist as she lays back against your bed. Her green eyes eat you up, strong hands already running along your hips and thighs, giving you a squeeze before her hand creeps up your t shirt, pushing it up a bit before it slips under, grasping your boob and massaging it in her hands.

"Fuck...look at you...missed you so much, pretty girl....you can't even imagine.." She sighs softly under her breath, eager hands roaming your body hungrily, as if they've deprived of you for so long, missing the way your skin spilled out from under her hands, always so responsive for her.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch her practically worshiping your body with her hands, a soft whine leaving your lips as you rest your hands on her hips, pushing up her t shirt a bit as your thumbs rub small circle into her pale hips.

Her hands rest on your hips, forcing you to grind down onto her lap, making you whine softly, the feeling her her sweats bunching up right at your core, your cotton pajama shorts leaving much too room to be exposed by her touch.

She sits up, grabbing the hem of your shirt before she tugs it off your body, groaning softly as her lips immediately latch onto your nipple, biting and sucking. You moan softly, arching your back a bit and forcing more of you to her mouth, hands wrapped around her neck, toying with the hair at the nape of her neck.

Ellie pushes you back, resting you to lay down before she tugs your pajama shorts and panties off in one go. You promptly spread your legs for her, letting her settle between them, the small gesture making her groan, her strong hands gripping your thighs, grinding against your bare pussy.

"Fuck...such a good girl for me..." she sighs softly against your lips.

You whine, reaching down and tugging at her own pants, fumbling with the waistband of her shorts that hung oh so fucking low.

"Off..wanna feel you.." You moan softly against her, resulting in a soft chuckle from her. She presses one last kiss to your lips before she nods.

"Whatever you want baby...fuck" she mumbles softly under her breath when she pulls back to start tugging her own clothes off, catching a glimpse of your soaking wet pussy and naked body in the dim light of your room.

She looks so fucking desperate, nearly tripping over her sweats as she tugs them off, tossing them somewhere else in your room. It's like she can't get the clothes off quick enough, immediately settling between your legs again once she's naked, groaning softly a the feeling of your pussy against her body.

Her eagerness makes you giggle, and Ellie feels like she's on cloud fucking nine when she hears it, so soft and gentle. She pouts softly, staring down at you while she's already moving to position her pussy over yours, tossing your leg over her shoulder.

"What are you laughing at...hm?" She questions softly, her hips slowly moving against yours as she lets out a soft moan, eyes never leaving yours.

You can barely get the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel her slick pussy against yours, clits bumping together in a way that has you nearly salivating.

She chuckles above you, a soft groan following the noise as her lips graze along your calf.

"Thats what I thought...fuck....your pussy is too fuckin good, princess' She moans out softly, her hips moving slowly against yours.

You moan loudly, your hand coming to grip her thigh as you move your hips in tow with hers.

"F-fuck, Ellie....you...that feels so good" you babble out, your other hand gripping the sheets beneath you as she fucks her pussy down onto yours.

Ellie smirks softly as she watches you, watches the way you fall apart beneath her.

"Thats my fuckin girl....you're the only fucking one I need...fuck...." She groans, turning her head a bit to kiss your calf again before her teeth sink into you, biting and sucking your skin, making you moan loudly.

You feel her speed up, hips growing desperate as she chases both hers and your orgasm, making your head spin as your nails dig into her thigh, sure to leave marks in the morning.

"Im....god...Im close Ellie.....fuuuckkkk....dont stop" you gasp out, low, lust filled eyes staring up at her as she continues bullying your pussy with hers, both of your arousal squelching together, making the most explicit noise you've ever fucking heard.

"Come on baby...want you to cum for me...can you do that? Fuck...I feel it too....that's it, pretty girl.." Ellie is babbling too, her lust clouded braun barely uttering words that are comprehensible.

You see her eyes squeeze shut, her moans getting louder and more high pithed, sounding so fucking pretty above you.

You feel like you'll explode, your back arching as the familiar feeling settles in your core, your pussy getting wetter and wetter as you feel your orgasm grow closer.

"A-ah! Ellie!" You scream out as you come undone beneath her.

And she isn't far behind, leaning down and crashing her lips against yours, forcing you to swallow her moans as she cums hard against your pussy, the both of you breathing hard as her hips sputter, pussy sliding around sloppily against yours as she becomes so fucked out, that she loses her rhythm completely.

And just like before, she lays there, on top of you, trying to catch her breath, face tucked against your neck, hands keeping you close, as if you'll disappear in thin air at any given moment.

There's so much going through your head, trying to figure out what it is that happens from here, where you and here go, what steps to take after, all of which come up with blank answers whenever you try to figure out what to do.

You assume she will fall asleep on you as she did before, knock out immediately and leave you to lay there with your plaguing thoughts.

She doesn't, though. You hear a soft hum from her lips, her hands squeeze your waist gently, before she speaks against your neck.

"I love you...so much.." she sighs out, her voice breaking a bit as if shed break down at any given moment.

You aren't sure what you'll do from this point on, but you do know one thing.

You won't run away from Ellie, ever again.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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b0ther · 6 months

Text

ain't even jealousy

you fucking hate the basketball team, but there's no one you hate more than aomine.

pairing : aomine daiki x reader (feminine pronouns. afab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : chaptered tags : aomine is a bully im not even kidding he is quite cruel, porn with PLOT, reader is besties with satsuki, reader also has a crush on imayoshi, reader also was wakamatsu's ex, hate sex, semi-public sex, manhandling, vaginal penetration, thigh fucking, semi-clothed sex, some slutshaming going on here, reader has big tits, slight dubcon. word count : 4,323

author's note : title from 'want u back' by cher lloyd. this is comissioned by a dear friend. hope you enjoy mwah. this first chapter (and whole fic im ngl) is centered around the onsen episode.

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

After a long and hard day at school, all that you ever really want to do is to quickly get to your part-time job and finish up your shift. Perhaps you can get some convenient store food after that, or go straight home to shower and rest.

Whatever it is that you daydreamed of, it wasn't this.

Satsuki calls out to you, her voice soft against the bristling wind with her lithe arms circle around yours as you try to walk away, dragging her body forcefully with you. She whines your name over and over again, over the beating speaker against your ears before you finally had enough, ripping your headphones off your head, turning to face her.

“Satsuki!” You try to sound stern, but you end up whining in the same tone that she used. You can only be so serious as a high school girl, after all.

Her pink strands fall against her face messily; you use your other hand to tuck them behind her ear as she elongates the way she enunciates your name and begs, begs, begs you to listen to her. “Please! Just—”

“Satsuki!” You groan, shaking her off your body. “I’m busy. I have a part-time job, I’m failing maths, I have club activities. I can’t just… ditch everything and go !”

“You can!” It’s like she was not listening to a single word that you uttered. “It’s a month away and on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday—which you can begin asking for a leave day starting today , they will definitely let you if you do it a month in advance!—and maths!? That’s easy! I’ll teach you!”

You slant your eyes at her, arms crossing on your chest. “Alright. What about my club activities?”

“You mean your journalist club? One that encourages their members to leave their comfort zone in order to bring back interesting stories? One that basically has a crush on the basketball team?”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, don’t be dramatic.”

She gasps. “Don’t you love me!?”

“Don’t do this to me…”

“If you love me at all, you wouldn’t even think twice about going with me. Imagine me, a girl, going alone on an all-boys’ trip to some secluded place—”

“You’re being dramatic—” You tried reiterating your point.

“I’m not!” She whines, even louder this time, attracting attention from all the other Touou students around you. “You literally have nothing to lose by coming along! Give me five reasons—five good reasons—and I will literally stop bothering you.”

You shake her off again, and this time, Satsuki lets go and stumbles back a couple of steps as the mischief on her eye continues to shimmer. You have never lost an argument to Satsuki—but there is a first for everything, and you have a feeling that you are going to break some personal records today.

“First,” you take a deep breath as you hold up a finger. “Aomine’s gonna be there—”

“Perfect!” Not giving you a chance to speak, she cuts you off, eyes glimmering like starlight. “You like him!”

She strikes a nerve with this one.

One of your eyes twitches as you cross your arms under your chest. The excited smile on her face fades in an instant, recognizing in an instant that something is wrong.

Recognizing in an instant that something she should have known about is wrong.

She blinks a couple of times, trying to use all that intelligence in her head to analyse the error in what she said (which turns out pretty useless—guess all that she is good for is basketball).

“Have you been paying attention at all?” You begin to blabber after letting out a huge gasp, arms waving around in the air. “We’ve been friends for years— years ! Since the first year of middle school, and you know nothing of my strong, burning opinion of Aomine!? Flash news, Satsuki, it’s not love!”

“You—” She stammers, “You talk about him a lot!”

“I complain about him a lot!” You correct her, blowing out air in frustration, feeling somewhat betrayed that your best friend had just accused you of liking your archnemesis… your enemy… your… your rival.

The point is! You hate him!

You would rather live in a world without television and the internet and good music if it means that you will have to never hear him say another word.

Aomine.

You shiver in annoyance.

Just saying his name irks the hell out of you. Imagining his face causes a feeling close to that of an explosion in your chest. You just wanna grab him by his face and shove him down a flight of stairs.

You cannot even count all the shitty things he did to you in high school: revealing your crush on Nijimura Shuuzou not just to the then-basketball team captain, but the entire student body; tripping you in the cafeteria multiple times; stealing your undergarments during P.E. and commenting crassly about how you were two sizes under his favourite adult model. Granted, you never told Satsuki about the last thing. That shit was just too embarrassing—you were glad that no one else was in the room when he threw your bra back at you.

Still, your frustration remains at her. Jogging down memory lane boils your wrath, and you close your eyes to calm yourself down.

He’s just a bully.

A damned bully.

And you would be damned if you are going to willingly spend your weekends in the same vicinity as him.

“Well… Dai-chan likes you!”

You roll your eyes.

Yeah, right.

You would agree if she had claimed that he found you attractive, or he thinks you’re hot. But liking you? Highly improbable—impossible, even.

Aomine Daiki does not seem like he is capable of feeling any emotion aside from boredom and mischief. The only thing he loves, or even likes, is probably his beloved Aya-chan from his gravure magazines.

You’re not even sure if he still likes basketball.

Which is a shame—seeing someone so tall gradually shrinking to the size of nothing, even if you despise the guy, the whole ordeal with whatever-the-fuck Satsuki’s basketball team went through still managed to extract some sympathy from the bottom of your heart. You’ve been paying attention to Aomine, after all, albeit not under any positive light.

“Whatever,” from past experiences, you know better than to argue against Satsuki. “I don’t care anymore. And you know what? Aomine himself and your blatant disregard of your best friend’s feelings—me!—should be enough to fit all five criterias!”

You know that look in her eyes, the way her lips press against each other and how one of her hands is clenched into a fist.

“I’ve been friends with him for 16 years, (Y/N),” she bumps her fist against her chest in pride. “Best friends, even! I know him better than you do!”

You scoff. “People who like someone don’t bully them, Satsuki. Open your eyes.”

“He isn’t bullying you!” She groans.

“Oh, so now not only are you attempting to kidnap me, but you’re also defending my bully?”

“Argh!” Satsuki hugs your arm again, earning her a groan from you. She calls out your name again, enunciating each and every syllable. “ Pleeeaaaaseeee? You don’t have to pay a single dime! You don’t even have to see Dai-chan if you want to. Imayoshi-san will be there—you like him, right?”

You slant your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying anything she just told you. You just know that you will have to see Aomine sooner or later if you come with her to the onsen.

“No man is ever worth that much headache, Satsuki.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, still shaking you ferociously. “But it’s Imayoshi-san!”

You decided to come along. Because of course you did.

It’s either that, or Satsuki pestering you for the rest of the month, bringing either Imayoshi or Aomine or whoever she thinks will get your attention.

And Imayoshi Shouichi? Sure. He’s hot as hell.

But is he worth dealing with Aomine?

You like to think not.

Satsuki dragged you along to a basketball team meeting—the one that would be discussing the practice trip and the whole onsen ordeal.

It wasn’t like you needed to be there at all. You know just a little more than the average person about basketball. All that you were preparing for the onsen was your clothes and deciding whether it’s you or Satsuki who should be bringing her hairdryer.

“Why me?” You said, crossing your arms when the attention of the entire basketball team was redirected towards you, and Imayoshi laughed. The only problem they were facing was convincing Aomine to come along.

And you were happy with not being the babysitter. You were happy with twiddling your skirt as you sat on the edge of the stage of the hall, scrolling down your social media timeline as the team argued on how to get that blue-haired freak into coming.

That was until Satsuki ruined your afternoon by offering up your name.

To your surprise, everyone in the team seemingly agreed almost immediately to offer you as a sacrificial lamb to feed Aomine’s ego and coax him to at least come to the trip.

“He likes you,” Wakamatsu scoffed when you asked why, and you glared at him, but said nothing. Out of respect, you guess, to the upperclassman. It’s not like you respect him, though. You’re on bad terms with a lot of the basketball team, but no matter your disagreements with Wakamatsu, you will never dislike him the way you loathe Aomine.

“He does have a soft spot for you,” Imaoyshi mused as he flashed you a smile—and lord , you cannot say no to Imayoshi. Especially when he’s being so nice.

You saw Satsuki smirking from the corner of your eyes and internally cursed her.

That was how you found yourself climbing the ladder leading to the rooftop.

And that was how you found Aomine with one hand between his backpack and head, and the other holding an obscene magazine.

He doesn’t even spare you a single glance—probably thought you were another manager or even worse: Satsuki again. But the moment you open your mouth to call out to him, his head snaps in your direction, an eyebrow raised in amusement as he pushes himself to rest his body against his elbows.

“What are you doing here?”

You try not to let your rage spill. You try to keep the boiling water down. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and continue to climb the ladder before approaching him.

Think rational, you think to yourself, he hadn’t even said anything yet.

“The Captain wants to see you,” you manage to say between your gritted teeth, staring down at him before looking away. Imayoshi didn’t ask you to make Aomine see him, but Aomine probably respects Imayoshi more than you, so you try to throw him under the bus just to get out of the situation quicker.

“Imayoshi-san?” He frowns before repeating his initial question: “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I want to punch him.

“You own this roof or something?”

“Calm down,” he scoffs, tilting his head before eyeing your body up and down. You shift your weight into your other leg, ignoring the uneasy feeling on the pit of your stomach. “I just wanted to know.”

Sighing, you glance up at the sunny sky, sweat starting to form on the base of your neck and you are dying to leave at that very moment. You shelter your eyes from the sunlight, despite finding it more appealing than Aomine’s face.

“We’re discussing the practice trip thing—whatever, and also the onsen trip,” you lazily explain, not bothering to hide your disinterest. “Imayoshi-senpai wants you to be present for the meeting. Obviously.”

You cannot fathom the fact that you were explaining his basic responsibilities as a club member to him. What a fucking child.

“You coming with us?”

His focus seems to be misplaced, and you glare at the sky, imagining it was his stupid face.

“I’m going with Satsuki,” you correct, still not willing to look at him. “I don’t give two shits about you or the basketball team.”

“Hey,” he sits up, wrapping his fingers around your wrist before tugging your body towards him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

You scoff, finally letting your gazes meet before pulling your hand away. “Fuck off.”

He, in fact, does not fuck off.

Aomine pulls on your wrist again, this time hard enough for you to lose your balance and fall, your knees landing on the coarse floor as the bottom of your skirt rides up your thighs. The skin of your knees scraping against the gravelled surface and you curse, jerking your hand away only to immediately shove his shoulder.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!” You shriek, annoyed at how he remains unmoving even as you push him again.

He towers you, even when sitting, and keeps his eyes peering down at you.

Maybe it’s the heat that day; summer has just ended, but even the soft Autumn breeze cannot conceal the searing flare creeping up the skin of your cheeks. Aomine slants his eyes and grabs your wrist yet again—you weren’t quick enough to retract away from his athletic instincts, and so, you fall again when he pulls you in closer.

You hiss in pain as your knees drag more against the floor, desperate to find your balance only to grab on his shoulders.

“Hey,” He calls out to you, a lame attempt for your attention. “Look,” he says again, and your dumb ass looks.

He grabs the magazine on his lap and tautens the pages together, showing you the spread where he left off before you interrupted his peaceful afternoon. “(Y/N), remember Aya-chan?”

The girl that ruined your life?

How can you forget?

You cannot hide the distaste in your eyes as your eyes scan her beautiful, black hair falling against the sheer material of her white uniform top. The black lace bra she was wearing underneath is apparent as she pushes her two tits against each other, legs spread to reveal an equally seductive pattern on her panties.

Before you even realise, Aomine’s arm begins to wrap itself around your waist as he holds you up, fingers creeping up the side of your torso, tracing invisible lines before resting on one of your breasts. Your stomach begins to churn in excitement, embarrassingly enough, and you press your legs instinctively when the muscle between your thighs tighten as he continues fondling you.

You circle your arm around his neck under the pretence of keeping your balance.

“Mhmm…” He clicks his tongue, resting his face on the side of your upper arm—his nose touching the side of your tit as his hand palms your other one. “I feel like you’re no longer two sizes under Aya-chan. Maybe a size under? Maybe the same size?”

You grit your teeth. “You talk big. Have you ever seen her outside your magazine? She probably edits her photos.”

He grins, gaze shifting to drink in your frustration. “No, but you’re real, and I’m groping you right now. Isn’t that better?”

“Better than your pretty Aya-chan?”

Aomine raises an eyebrow, humming knowingly. You can’t even believe the word escaping your mouth.

“You have a cute side to you after all,” He muses after a short, mocking whistle. “What do you want me to say? Want me to tell you how much better you are than her?”

“Want you to shut the fuck up.”

“Calm down, tiger.” He laughs, pulling away from your arm. He tosses the magazine to the side, straightening his back to press a short kiss to the peak of your cheekbone. His hand begins to work; he slowly kneads your breast while continuously trailing kisses down to your ears. Your nipples brush against the fabric of your damned lace bra, and he stops for a moment only to tug on where your bud is protruding.

A whimper leaves your mouth.

“Excited are we?” He whispers, voice dropping lower as he presses his lips against your ears. “I like hearing you like that.”

“Shut up,” you run out of words, turning your head to the other side, exposing your neck to him. Which turns out to be a bad idea, as he takes it as a sign to sweep his tongue over the skin of your neck.

“A–Aomine—”

“God,” he chuckles. “Who would’ve guessed that you can be this sexy?”

He pulls away from your neck, and drags his hand from your tits to rub against your torso, feeling the material of your uniform. He presses one hand on the small of your back, pressing his forehead against yours. In a swift motion, he pulls on your body, drawing out a squeak as he lays you down against the concrete floor.

“What if…” he trails, rubbing a thumb under your eye as he hovers over rested body. Your cheeks sear with heat, alongside your chest and the pulsating on your cunt. “...I just fuck you right here?”

“W-what?” You whimper.

He laughs. “I’m hard as hell. You made me this way.”

“You were the one groping my tits!”

“You liked it,” he shrugs, pushing himself off of you, forcing both your legs open as he moves between them. His fingers begin to unbutton your uniform, unravelling the bra you are wearing underneath. Sucking in a deep breath, he stops midway down your torso, and without taking his eyes off your chest, he asks, “Want me to stop?”

Your cheeks flare, and you don’t answer him. You don;t even look at him.

He takes a quick glance at your expression.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

“...Whatever.”

A wide smirk forms on his face, fingers continuing to unbutton your uniform all the way down.

“Do me a favour and get up for a bit,” he murmurs, pressing one of his hands against your back once again to get you to sit up. The feeling of his palm against your bare skin sends you to shivers, coupled with the soft wind whistling between the two of you.

“What’re you—”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his fingers fumble with the hook of your bra. It took him two wrong moves before getting it right with the third—the fabric loosens around your body, and you pull him closer to conceal your humiliated expression.

“See,” Aomine chuckles after some awkward motion, tossing your stupid bra to the side when he finally gets it off. “You’re so pretty like this.”

“Shut up,” you groan, nails digging into his skin deeper and deeper.

He pulls himself away from your grip, taking a nice hold on your torso to pull your ass up his lap, letting you fall against the hard floor again.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, roaming his touches against your legs. His eyes cannot leave the heaves of your jugs.

“Stop fucking staring,” your hiss, trying to pull your uniform together, hiding your chest away from him.

Aomine scoffs, using one hand to unbuckle his pants. Your eyes travelled from his face to the loose button on his collar to the wet stain on the grey briefs around his hips to the bulge underneath them.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

He tilts his head at your question, furrowing his eyebrows as he takes his cock out from under his briefs. “Fucking you?”

The precum leaks from the tip of his cock, little drops of white strings rolling down his length. He pulls your hips closer to his body and presses it flat against your soaked panties.

He groans at the contact. Your warm slick welcomes him entirely as he presses more against the fabric, rubbing his tip along the length of your pussy.

“S’that feel good?” He whispers, hastily hooking his fingers on your panties, pulling it up your legs, then tossing it to go with your bra. He presses his arm on the side of your head, leaning into you again.

“Don’t put it in,” you whine, trying to hold back your hips from rolling. “You’re gonna get me pregnant.”

“You can’t say shit like that,” he groans against your neck. He positions the tip of his cock against your cunt, and even with your sopping lips, you aren’t sure if you are ready to accommodate his size at all.

“You don’t want to be a teen dad,” you bite your lower lip, hand going to rub his neck.

“I wanna fuck you, though,” he breathes, using his thumb to run along your wet slit. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside’a you.”

You tremble with his words, feeling two of his fingers now circling your pussy. “D— don’t be stupid.”

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he whispers, making your cunt wish it has something to tighten around. “D’you know how long I’ve been wanting to get you like this?”

He pushes himself off of you, and holds your wounded knees as he watches your chest heaves, heavy tits rolling with every staggered breath. He flips your skirt over, exposing even more of your cunt to the chill.

He rubs his length against your slick, his tip now pushing against your swelling clit. “I’d jack off and wonder if you were tighter than my fist,” he wraps his cock with his hand and places it again on your entrance, pushing in a slow, deliberate motion.

Between your drooping eyelids, you saw him inaudibly mutter a curse.

“Used to wanna fight Wakamatsu ‘cus he’d stuff this pussy all he wanted. Right?” He scoffs with a stupid, satisfied smile that you wish you could wipe off his face. “Shame that you broke it off, huh? Did he dump you when he realised how much of a whore you are?”

“Shut up…”

“Well, I don’t care. More fun for me.”

“Aomine—“

“Who else have you fucked in the basketball team?” He grunts. “In Touou?”

“Shut— shut the…”

You slap the back of your hand against your mouth—not willing at all to let him hear you be satisfied with his size—biting down on the flesh as he pushes his cock in. All of his cock in.

“Aomine—”

His cock is dragging against your wall, kissing every possible inch of your insides. Your hole continues to burn as he stretches you wide open, draining every last bit of energy from inside of you.

“ F-fuck…”

Your hand goes to fondle your own tit, rolling your hard nipple between your fingers, sloppily trying to garner more and more pleasure. His dick fills you more and more, stuffing you full, before finally stopping.

“Don’t act all reserved now,” he raises an eyebrow as you mewl out his name. He stays still for a moment, a bud of sweat rolling down his temple before pulling out of your homey cunt. “You don’t have to lie.”

Aomine bites his lips, letting his cock rest between your pussy lips. He sees the way they engulf his dick, moving his hips to rub against your core.

“Letting me fuck you on the school rooftop,” he murmurs, “where’s your fucking self-respect? Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if this isn’t your first time getting dicked down up here.”

Your eyes slant up at him, but he quickly shuts down any of your retaliation by pressing his thumb flat against your clit, slowly circling the nub. Your teeth press down hard on your bottom lips.

“We aren’t— we are not …” You babble, putting a thumb between your teeth to stop yourself from moaning, “...having sex.”

He scoffs, drinking in how your eyes roll with your head turned to the side.

“I was inside you just a moment ago.”

Filthy noise of his cock squelching against your cunt filled the air—if someone were to come after you, they would hear Aomine’s dick fucking your pussy lips.

“Fuck,”Aomine spits, pressing your legs tightly against each other then down on your lips.

“A-ah,” You gasp as he drills into your thighs, the tip of his cock rubbing quick and hard against your swollen clit. “Oh my God—”

“Are you cummin’?” He breathes, one hand reaching to roll your tit on his hand. “Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and you whine at the nickname. He snickers, “You’re so sexy like this, y’know that?”

Your back arches, little whimpers of encouragement swallow your pride whole as you fall completely into him. Aomine grunts at the expression, seeing the lewd expression on your face. He picks up the pace, slamming his hips against your ass.

“M’gonna cum,” he hisses. “Fuck. Wish I could shoot my load into your tight little cunt.”

“Fuck it,” you manage to spit between your groans, “F-fuck it. Just— oh God, just don’t stop—”

Your words rile him up even more—he tightens his grip on your leg, his fingers bruising your fragile skin. Your head begins to spin. Your slam your fists against the ground and your mind numbing orgasm comes the moment strings of Aomine’s thick, white cum comes flying down your skirt and stomach.

“Shit,” he loosens the grip on your legs, letting them fall even with your still convulsing ass and core. His gaze stays on the tip of his dick, the white cum oozing from it, then to your face—your parted lips, dumb eyes, and the sweat dripping down the side of your head down your neck.

He feels himself getting harder as he watches your plump lips whine, wondering how they would wrap around his thick length, if the colour of your lipstick would stain the veins of his cock.

“You coming to the onsen trip?” Aomine tries to distract himself.

You roll over, blindly reaching out for the bra that he tossed God knows where.

“Fuck you.”

#knb #one-shot #chaptered: ain't even jealousy #commissioned #aomine #aomine daiki #kuroko no basuke #kuroko no basket #kuroko's basketball #smut #aomine smut #aomine x reader #aomine x you #knb smut #aomine x reader smut

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giddyfatherchris · 2 months

Text

a movie i've seen before II

pairing. bang chan x f!reader

type. angst (-y ish)

warnings. none

word count. 3k

a/n. part two is here! again, i am so excited to be posting this series and so grateful for the lovin you guys have been giving it <3 hope you will enjoy mwah xxx

do not forget to tell me if you wish to be added to the tag list for this series :)

part I

The next day was a recording and producing day, one of your favorites. You loved being in the studio with the boys. It was fascinating to see how their minds worked and created such extraordinary pieces of music. Despite the previous night and the disappointment it brought you, you were determined to have a good day, and push aside any personal feelings you might have. "Hi guys," you said as you entered the small room with full hands.

"You brought us coffee!" exclaimed Changbin as he scurried over for his usual. You smiled at the muscular boy and greeted Hyunjin, Han, and Seungmin already ready to work on a song.

As you sat on the couch next to Felix, you handed him his cup of coffee with a smile. He returned a thankful one before he sipped, extracting a sigh of delight from his lips. "How are you feeling today?" The question seemed innocent, but you could decipher in his eyes the ounce of worry.

"Good. I've decided to move on, and put my personal feelings aside," you whispered, making sure no one else heard you. Felix gave you a little nod of agreement, proud of you for taking this step.

The recording finally started and it was only 45 minutes later that Chan appeared clad in his usual baggy black attire, his natural curls peeking out from his hat. You pushed down the little butterflies taking flight in your stomach with a steadying breath and focused on your computer.

"Hi guys," he joyfully greeted everyone. He quickly checked on the members to monitor where they were, but when he noticed you, a sweet smile spread on his lips. "Hey, didn't see you there."

"Hi," you quickly responded, trying to keep your interactions at a minimum.

He stalked closer to you, noticing the empty coffee trays and the cups everyone had in their hands. "No coffee for me?" he pouted.

"I knew you'd be here late because of the time you finished last night, so your coffee would have been cold." He seemed to notice the curtness of your interaction and started to turn away, that horrible pout still on his plump lips. You rolled your eyes at his childish display and hated yourself for the words about to leave your lips. "But, I did get you a breakfast burrito. I knew you probably wouldn't take time to eat."

You extended the food in his direction, rolling your eyes as you saw the excited grin on his face. He wiggled in your direction, grabbed the roll, but held onto your hands with his eyes deep set on your own.

"You're truly the best."

You nodded with a tight smile, praying he'd stop holding your hands and looking at you like that. He went to his chair but kept glancing at you with a satisfied smile as he ate breakfast.

You glanced sideways at Felix, who was already staring at you and Chan with a shocked expression. He lifted his brows as he looked at you, and you sighed.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

For the rest of the day, Chan's behavior was insufferable. He was only being his usual caring, nice, and funny self, but since your goal was to stop wanting to barf butterflies whenever you saw him, any interaction felt like a jab to the throat. It didn't help that he seemed determined to get you to forgive him for missing out on last night. You waited with anticipation for the day to be over. All you needed was to go home and take a well-deserved break from Chan's intoxicating personality.

Once done, you headed out of the building with Felix while updating him on the situation.

"Yeah, I noticed it too. I think he feels really bad. You are one of his best friends."

"Aouch," you winced.

"Sorry," he muttered with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders.

"It's okay. I know you're right. He's not doing anything special. It's just that when I'm trying so hard not to harbor certain feelings towards him, it makes it harder."

"I imagine, and... I might have told him last night that he messed up. So I'm guessing that's not helping either." He reluctantly admitted.

"Felix! Why did you say that?? Of course, he's now ten times worse."

"I'm sorry!" squealed your friend as you chased him down the building. You made it out on the street, still trying to hit him, when a familiar voice said: "What did he do again?"

You both turned to face Chan waiting with the other boys before heading home. You dismissed his worries quickly and gave Felix a look of warning.

"Alright then, I'll head home. Have a good night, guys." You waved goodbye and turned away from them when Chan trotted to you.

"I'll walk with you."

You gave Felix a panicked stare as he was whisked away by the others.

"That's not necessary Chan."

"No worries, I have an errand to run in the neighborhood." He explained with that beautiful smile of his.

Unable to find a proper excuse to refuse his proposal, you started walking home together. You talked about work, music, past travels, about anything really. It had been a long time since you had such a fluid and captivating conversation with someone. You both were two long-date subscribers to the 'overthinking club' so it felt nice to chat with someone who also had a never-ending stream of things to say or question. Once you arrived at your building, you felt a pang of disappointment as you caught yourself wishing to have more time together.

"Well, this is me." You stood there awkwardly, not quite sure how to end this, but after a few seconds in silence, he looked at you with uncertainty. "Do you have anything planned tonight?"

"You mean apart from watching a Netflix series?" You chuckled. "Nope."

He looked around, hands in his pocket before suggesting with a little smirk. "Wanna come with me to the store?"

And even though your preservation instinct screamed at you not to, you said yes.

The errand went well and you decided to stop at a corner shop to get some food. It was so easy to spend time with him. He kept making little jokes, and there were never dull or awkward moments of silence. He walked you home for the second time and even went up in the building, saying it was his responsibility to bring you home the proper way. He waved you off before you closed and slid down the heavy door to silently scream.

You checked your phone to see the eight notifications from Felix demanding updates. I'm in deep shit. Was all you texted back.

When Chan returned to the dorms, a small smile still on his lips, he didn't expect his Aussie brother to wait for him in the common room.

"Your errand ran long?" cautiously asked Felix.

Dropping his bag on the ground Chan answered, "No, I walked her back. Then she came with me to the store and we decided to get something to eat. It was great; we talked a lot about the coming Paris trip. I told her about my favorite spots and we'll try to visit them while we're there."

"Wow, you must really feel bad for missing her night, uh?"

Chan froze and looked warily at his friend. "I do, but I also happen to just really enjoy her company." He was a little insulted by the insinuation that he would only do this out of guilt.

"You enjoy her company?" kept questioning Felix.

"Yes? Don't you?"

He stepped closer to him, there was something in his demeanor that Chan could not pinpoint, but made him uncomfortable. "Of course, she's my best friend, but that's all she is to me. Is that all she is for you too?"

"I- you know I don't have the time for this, as amazing as she is..."

"Then stop what you're doing." Felix's voice was harsh. "Stop what you're doing Chan. You're only going to hurt her. Don't tell me you can't see it."

With a dumbfounded expression, the leader looked at his member with furrowed eyebrows. "See what?"

"You know."

"I-"

"Chan stop. You're being mean."

"Do you seriously think she likes me?"

Felix hesitated before answering. Teared apart between wanting to respect your privacy, and wanting to protect you in any way he could.

"I don't know. I'm just saying be careful. If you know you can't give that kind of relationship to someone, don't toy with their feelings."

And just like the previous night, Felix disappeared, not without giving his older brother a look of warning. He had to get away before he kept blurting shit out and made you truly hate him. Chan watched him leave the room, questioning and rethinking every little interaction you had that day.

The following days were spent in a haze for him. Every time he saw you, he started analyzing your behavior, trying to find out if maybe there was something more for you. But it was hard to say when you were being so bubbly and affectionate with all of them. Oddly, he noticed you seemed to keep a bit more distance with him. It gave him a strange feeling, not because he thought it was weird you might have feelings for him, but because he hated not getting hugged by you, not having you bringing him little surprises as you did for the others. A feeling was settling down in the man's chest, one quite foreign to him: jealousy.

Not a week later you were all heading out for the Paris trip. The energy was at an all-time high as you made sure the boys were getting settled. You had just sat down on the plane when Chan plopped in the seat beside you with a big smile. You looked at him with a tense one, "I think Lix was supposed to sit next to me, we wanted to watch a movie."

The oldest member, without losing a second leveled you a knowing stare, never breaking his own smile. "Oh yeah, he asked me just before to switch seats. He wanted to sit next to Jeongin."

You looked at your best friend who was shooting you an apologetic look. You didn't know how much of it was true, but you would need to have a chat with that little traitor. You schooled your annoyed expression in a tight smile and took a calming breath.

Alright, so it would be Chan for a few hours.

You were flying to Paris because the boys had been invited to perform at a prestigious gala. You were incredibly excited, especially since you couldn't wait to see the famous city. Despite your worries, you spent the flight chatting with Chan about their schedule for this trip and when they would have the chance to play tourists and explore the city to their heart's will. Smoothly, the conversation evolved and he ended up showing you thousands of videos of Berry from home and even rested his head on your shoulder when he fell asleep during the movie you started together. You couldn't help, but make sure he was comfortable. You almost smacked yourself when you realized you had been looking at him like a fool. You shook your head and focused on the movie while telling yourself this was only normal behavior for Chan. He would have done this with any of the members. You were nothing special to him. After a while, you felt him reposition his head comfortably before he asked what he had missed. You thought he might sit back up, but he stayed right where he was. As comfortable as it was, this was so dangerous for your heart. You tried mentally burning the butterflies in your stomach for the rest of the flight.

You landed a few hours later and headed for the prestigious hotel you would be staying at. As fun as this trip was, it also meant you would need to be on top of things for its duration. You were responsible for the boys. Making sure they would get where they needed to be and were in tip-top shape to perform once the time came. You were also their translator since you spoke French. Easily, you fell into your rhythm of assistant manager. Which coincidentally helped you forget about the handsome boy walking next to you.

Once they were all settled in their rooms you breathed a little easier. One of the most stressful parts was done. Now, would be the time for organization, tomorrow would be rehearsals then free time for them in the evening. The next would be the actual gala, which would mean getting up very early, getting ready all day, performing on the night, and enjoying the after-parties. That would be the most draining day for you. Still, you couldn't help, but be excited at the prospect of the following days. You loved the adrenaline, you loved seeing the boys perform, and you loved to know in some way you were a part of their success.

For your first night you all decided to eat out as Felix and Hyunjin insisted on bringing you to a certain restaurant they peeked at earlier. You ended up eating delicious French cuisine until you were so full the walk home felt like a sports event. Unsurprisingly the boys collectively headed for their respective rooms as soon as they got to the hotel. The perspective of staying up a minute longer felt like torture, and they did need the rest you reasoned as you lightly pushed Changbin in his room. As for yourself, you took the time to answer a few emails and make sure the itinerary for the following days accounted for each possible scenario. Satisfied with yourself, and not feeling a tad bit tired, you decided to go on a little stroll around the luxurious hotel to end up sitting down by the pool your feet dangling in the warm water. The night was silent and there wasn't a single soul around. You breathed gratefully the French air, once again struggling to grasp the reality of where you were.

You were caught up in your thoughts when the sound of the pool's gate made you jump. Hands clutching your chest you looked at a startled Chan.

"Sorry! It's only me." He joined you by the poolside quickly dipping his legs in the water next to you with a satisfied groan.

"You're supposed to rest Chan." You lightly scolded him. Lord knows he was one of the boys who needed the most rest, although he was the one it eluded the most.

"I know, but I can't. I keep thinking about tomorrow. Everything needs to be perfect."

You sighed and looked at the ripples your soft movements created in the clear water. "Everything will be perfect. You focus on yourself, and make sure you are rested and having fun on that stage. Everything else is handled. I made sure any possible outcome has been covered. Nothing bad can happen."

He turned to look at you with a soft smile. "I know that we are in really good hands. We're really lucky to have you."

"Kiss ass," you muttered with a chuckle. You tried playing it down, but each word leaving his lips made a satisfied warmth spread in your cheeks.

"Hey, I'm serious!" he nudged your shoulder with his, attempting to make you smile again. He always wanted you to smile.

His words truly made you appreciated, but somehow your happiness couldn't be complete as a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you you were nothing special and he was probably saying all those things out of guilt. "You know you don't have to be this nice to me just because you missed my celebration night. It's okay Chan, I know you were suddenly inspired and needed to work on it. It's okay." All warmth disappeared from your cheeks as you once again focused on the water.

He looked at you with his mouth open. Your sudden declaration seemed to surprise him before it turned into something sour in his eyes. You didn't know it, but it reminded him horribly of what Felix had said.

"Y/n, I would never be nice to you just because I feel guilty. I do feel incredibly stupid for missing your big night and I will never apologize enough about it. But, I'm nice and like being nice to you because you are an amazing person who works very hard for us and who I admire a lot."

You kept staring silently at the water, unable to answer.

"And about your night that I missed because I am a horrible person. I want to make up for it by inviting you out tomorrow night with me. We can go eat in a good restaurant and I'll show you those spots I told you about." He looked at you as he talked, but you couldn't find it in yourself to do it in return. "And I am NOT doing this out of guilt. You deserve to be celebrated every day, and this is my way to make up for it. And I would have loved to do this with you anyway, okay?"

"You have rehearsals all day today, you will need your rest," you muttered.

"Oh come on Y/n, everybody knows I’m a night owl anyway. And I promise we’ll come back early." He added with a little army salute.

You reflected on his proposition, torned between wanting to scream yes or refuse in order to protect your heart.

He searched for your gaze, softly calling your name until you couldn't keep a serious expression anymore and giggled.

"So, is that a yes?"

Your eyes met his shining ones with a smile. "Yes."

He clapped satisfied, and got up, lending you his hand. "Ready to get some rest now?"

You nodded and grabbed his strong hand. He took his time before releasing yours to open the gate and even then you felt the shadow of it on the small of your back.

Maybe this was a bad idea but in what other instance would you get the chance to spend precious time like this with this man you liked so much in one of the most beautiful cities in the world? So, even if this was going to break you, you decided you deserved to at least taste paradise once.

🏷️ list : @lovesunshinefelix @luvstaymin @jupire @nebugalaxy @drewsandsebastianswife @httpdwaekki

#ilya writes #stray kids #stray kids x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han skz #felix skz #seungmin skz #i.n skz #stray kids requests #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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gustavsbrainneuron · 1 month

Note

Sigh. I ran as fast as I can into your inbox. ugh! syopppp I’ve been imagining Tom like eating readers pussy like mostly everydayyy, but she has to like literally tug oh his dreads/braids since he’s so freaking attached to her pussy :3 like maybe hes stressed and literally needs to eat it to the point where she’s so sensitive but he doesn’t care at all!! and yea after care too !!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎Can't get enough.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎2008 Tom Kaulitz × female reader.

Warnings: smut and (kinda of) angst, dacryphilia, slightly degradation, Tom taking out his anger on the reader's pussy, all CONSENSUAL ofc.

Author's note: anon i actually love your mind sm like come here let me kiss that brain you freakster 🤤🤤🤤......... sorry for taking so long to make your fic and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. HOPW YALL ENJOY THIS MWAH MWAH MWAH!!

I was at home, specifically in the kitchen, cutting some potatoes on a wooden board that was on top of the sink. A low volume song was playing on a radio that was on the table and I was humming the song while cutting the potatoes, everything was peaceful. It was too peaceful, as suddenly this tranquility was interrupted by the sound of the front door being opened and then closed with force. The sound caught my attention, making me drop the knife and leave it on top of the cutting board, turning on the tap to pour water on my hands, shaking off the excess water and walking quickly to the hallway that led to the front door, looking to Tom who had just arrived from the studio. I smiled gently and as soon as Tom's eyes landed on me, I could see the stress and exhaustion in his expression.

We both walked until we got closer to each other; the radio music still playing, but much quieter and further away. I looked at him with a worried face and before I could say anything, he just hugged me, his tall figure pressing against my body. "I just have a headache." He replied, hoping my worried expression would go away. I stroked his back, my fingertips going up towards the back of his neck, stroking the soft skin there. "Are you okay? Do you want some painkillers?" I asked gently, feeling his slow breathing against me, I loved the fact that he was so relaxed with me, it made me feel so loved.

He shook his head negatively, breaking the hug, the familiar smell of his sweet cologne leaving my nostrils. I moved closer to him, my right hand going up to his face and resting on his cheek, closely observing his tired face. There seemed to be something more, as if he wasn't just having a headache and I wanted to know what that "something" was. "Did something happen in the studio?" Saying this drew a sigh from Tom, who relaxed against my hand, letting me touch his tired face more while one of his hands made its way to my waist, keeping me close to him. He looked down into my eyes with those brown eyes, it made my heart melt - as cheesy as that was. His gaze showed hesitation and vulnerability, caught between telling me what happened or not. "I got into a fight with one of the studio employees. It wasn't anything serious but it seemed like he wanted to do whatever he could to ruin my day." He finally said, lightly squeezing my waist as I caressed his cheek with my thumb, paying attention to what he was saying. "I swear, he kept messing with the volume of my guitar and Bill's microphone, it seemed like he wanted to make everything loud and horrible for our next show." He finished, sighing and removing his hand from my waist, waiting for some response from me. "It really seems like a bad day, huh? How about we play something on the video game and relax?" I suggested, smiling gently and bringing our lips closer, giving him a quick kiss before pulling away briefly - this gesture brought a smile from Tom's lips, this smile seemed to have lit up the house more, since even that small metal in the corner of his lip shone on the slightly orange light that hit both of us. "Sure. I'm just going to take a shower first." Tom replied and got closer to my face only to kiss my forehead and walk past me, heading towards our room.

I headed towards the kitchen, going back to making our dinner. I finished cutting the potatoes, placing them in a pan with water, turning on the oven and closing with a lid. My hands went to a drawer, opening it and taking out a timer, where I set 35 minutes and let the timer start.

While Tom was taking his shower, I went into our room and saw his guitar in the corner. I didn't know much about the guitar, just a few chords that Tom had taught me a long time ago, but as I had nothing to do, I decided to pick up the guitar and play. I placed the instrument on my lap, placing it on my upper thigh and picking up the pick that was "stuck" between the strings. I gently brought my left hand fingers closer to the strings, pressing three fingers on an E chord. I used the pick in my right hand to pick the three strings that my left hand was pressing, producing a very low sound; since the guitar wasn't connected to a speaker - no rock for me today, I thought and chuckled at the thought, just getting up and placing the guitar on its stand, leaving the pick on the dresser from Tom. I was so distracted that I didn't even notice that Tom came out of the shower and was watching me, he was already dressed but in simpler clothes and a towel around his wet dreadlocks. When I was about to turn my back, I only saw a tall shadow approaching me and I was startled, letting out a loud gasp and closing my eyes, as I didn't expect him there now.

Tom was startled by my fright, looking at me with a raised eyebrow, confused. "What was that? You scared me." He said, laughing at my still scared expression. My heart was beating fast, and I moved closer to him, only to give him a subtle slap on the arm. "I scared you?? You scared me!" I snapped, dramatically placing a hand on my chest, smiling at the sound of his laughter. "You're the one who gets scared very easily." Tom approached, his hands instinctively going to my waist. My eyes went up to his face, looking at his expression that seemed less tired now. "What were you doing with my guitar? What can I say?.. you don't even know how to play guitar." He teased, smiling confidently and foolishly, making me roll my eyes in response to his statement. "I just don't start learning it because if I learn your band will want me to join too." I stuck my tongue out at him, making us both laugh, our laughter echoing around the room.

We both went to the living room and as I had suggested; we were playing the videogame. It was a simple game, a racing game. I honestly wasn't good at it, sometimes I confused one button or another but today I was doing very well. I beat Tom once, twice, three times!! Tom's expression seemed to darken with each of my victories, he celebrated, of course, but something seemed off. When I won for the fourth time, I heard a 'beep beep beep!' coming from the kitchen - I played so much that I had forgotten about the timer, I didn't know that thirty five minutes could went by so quickly. "Ooh wait, we'll play later okay?" "Mhm." Tom replied back, his voice showing irritation, it was very light but I could feel it.

I went to the kitchen in quick steps, deactivating the timer and turning off the pan. I squatted down to open a cupboard under the sink and get a colander, I put the pot inside the sink and picked up the pan with the potatoes, throwing the potatoes into the pot carefully, the hot water coming out through the small holes in the colander. When all the water was out, I took a larger pot and took the colander, putting all the potatoes into the larger pot. I heard footsteps leaving the room, it was probably Tom. He walked, his footsteps eating up the distance between us, he walked over and stood next to me, just looking at me.

I picked up a fork, turning to look at him, noticing his eyes that were now kinder than they were in the living room just now. "You want help?" He questioned, looking at me curiously. "Of course, the more help the better." I spoke in an excited voice, smiling gently, picking up another fork and handing it to him.

I don't know how much time Tom and I spent mashing potatoes together, I just know that we were both tired from mashing potatoes with forks. When we finally finished, the mashed potatoes went back to the pan and I added a little margarine, salt and a well-pressed garlic clove. I mixed the food gently while Tom added milk little by little into the pan. When the consistency became thick, I stopped stirring and turned off the stove.

"Well, while we wait for our food to cool, we can go back to playing, what do you think?" I said, looking at him and delicately taking the milk carton that was in his large hands, going towards the refrigerator and putting the milk carton there. "Sure. This time I'll beat you in every round!" He stated, taking my hand as soon as I finished closing the refrigerator door, gently pulling me towards the living room.

Ok, I had already won for the eighth time from Tom. His expression seemed to get more serious with each of my victories, I even suggested that we change the game but he insisted on staying in that racing game and who was I to disagree? I was having fun. When I won for the tenth time, he became extremely serious. Maybe he was competitive?..a little?..I should let him win at least once and that's what I did. I let him win but he noticed. "What the fuck? Y/n, I don't want you to let me win. I want you to play normally so I can beat you fairly!" He said, his voice rising slightly as he looked at me. I didn't want any arguments, especially over a stupid game. "Tom. I think that's enough for today, let's change the game." I insisted, looking at him who immediately shook his head negatively, insisting on continuing. I sighed at his insistence, getting up and placing the controller on the sofa, I couldn't play if we were going to fight. My steps were quick towards the exit of the room, but Tom was faster than me, he came behind me and pulled me by the wrist and before I could think, he pushed me in a slightly aggressive way towards the sofa, pinning me against the fluffy pillows, holding both of my wrists and positioning himself between my legs.

"Tom, what the-" My body writhed against the cushions, my protests being interrupted and stopped by Tom's lips; which collided against mine aggressively, the metal of his lip piercing giving an icy sensation to my warm lips. I didn't delay in returning the kiss, kissing him with the same intensity, it was love and a little anger mixing together and god, it made a perfect combination.

"P-Please.." I whined on top of Tom's lap, while one of his hands held my legs open and the other hand used the middle and ring fingers to tease my wet folds, making me elicit low whimpers along with desperate gasps. "I already told you to stay quiet." He firmly rebuked, giving my swollen clit a gentle slap, eliciting a brief, sharp whine from me. I was a mess on his lap, my chest rising and falling in response to my rapid breathing, while my head fell back with each movement of Tom's fingers, wet sounds echoed through the living room - these sounds fueled the desire to Tom. With my head tilted back, Tom took the opportunity to kiss my neck, feeling my pulse quicken. He was nibbling on my hot skin, his piercing making it feel like it would burn my skin and even then, I would remain there, completely at his mercy.

Tom began to put a pace on the movements of his fingers, removing his fingers and inserting them into my cunt quickly, making my legs shake due to the acceleration of stimulation so suddenly. I started to squirm against Tom's lap, trying to escape those intense stimulations, but Tom obviously wouldn't let me, bringing his lips to my ear to whisper firmly. "You're not going anywhere." He said, both fingers moving skillfully, making me clench around his fingers; whining louder, only indirectly encouraging him to increase the pace of his fingers once more. My eyelids were tightly shut, my expression contorting in pleasure as Tom moved his fingers faster - if that was possible, giving one last thrust with his two long, slender fingers, curling them to hit my sweet spot, this action sending spasms of pleasure through my body, my legs shaking uncontrollably as he continued moving his fingers, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible as he placed wet, sloppy kisses over my jawline, watching my expression of pure bliss as he grunted with each whimper that leaves my lips, his pants becoming tighter than usual.

My breathing slowed as the waves of pleasure gradually disappeared, my body completely relaxed against Tom's. Gently, Tom removed his fingers from my gummy walls, taking the fingers with my fluids to his lips, sucking both fingers with one satisfied and long hum. "You taste so sweet. I can't get enough of you." He commented, taking his fingers out of his mouth after licking them clean. Tom gently held me by the waist, lifting me up and removing me from his lap, getting between my legs and lowering his body to catch my lips in an aggressive kiss; my own taste making me shiver in strangeness. I responded to the kiss, trying to reflect the same desire as him, my hands moving down his slender body, trailing to the edge of his sweatpants, pulling the fabric down in a messy way. But Tom didn't let me, one of his hands coming to grab both of my wrists, making me groan against his lips, taking his fleshy lower lip skin between my teeth and eliciting a low grunt from Tom, who broke the kiss - leaving only a strand of saliva connecting our lips. "Be patient, Y/n." He scolded me, firmly but not unkindly, starting to pepper kisses down my neck, his big left hand making its way to my blouse, having difficulty removing it, which made him just tear my blouse in half, a small dissatisfied sound leaving my lips and before I could complain, he spoke first. "Shhh, I'll buy you another one." He shushed me, just throwing the blouse that was now just a "rag" on the living room floor, his eyes immediately looking at the exposed skin as he continued nibbling and kissing the sensitive skin on my neck.

The kisses continued, making their way to my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach, my belly and finally reaching the inside of my thighs, his strong arms curling around my small thighs, keeping them open the way he preferred and wanted them to be. The anticipation seemed to be on purpose, almost as if he wanted to torture me. With each kiss he moved closer to my folds only to pull away again, making me gasp so that my abdomen sank inward and quickly returned to normal. He kissed the soft skin of my thighs, sucking on it gently, giving hickeys over the warm skin as I squirmed, feeling the hot discomfort between my legs.

"Tom, be faster!" I raised my voice slightly, irritated and impatient, whining with each mark he left on the skin of my thighs, making him stop out of nowhere. He stopped to admire the view of my pussy, completely wet and throbbing to feel something that would give me relief. Suddenly, he brought his face closer to my folds and felt my sweet scent dominate his nostrils, grunting in approval as his erection throbbed in need as well. Impatient, I lifted my waist towards his face, wanting contact, which made him force my waist down and lift his head to look into my eyes - with a look full of desire and also..anger? why? I don't know. "If you continue to be an impatient slut, I'll stop now and you'll have to use your useless little fingers to satisfy yourself." He responded with greater irritation, his calloused fingers climbing around my waist, holding me in place and bringing me closer to his face, lifting me a little. I swallowed hard at Tom's response, just nodding my head, I didn't want to have to satisfy myself alone and a small part in the back of my mind liked hearing Tom talking to me like that. I liked the fact that he was angry.

Suddenly, he lowered his face and dragged his tongue along my wet slit in a long, slow lick, making me whimper in a high-pitched way, my waist shaking in response to the stimulation; that even though it was small, it made me squirm. When his tongue reached my clit, he slowly circled it with the tip of his tongue before sucking it hard, my hands flying to his dreadlocks, pulling them lightly, just discounting his aggression and intensity against himself. "Mmm..I love your taste, Y/n." He murmured against my sensitive nub, continuing to lap at my juices and pleasure me with his pierced, skillful mouth, exaggerating with the licks around my clit, wanting to make me as sensitive as possible - and he was making me more sensitive, my thighs closing around his head. My eyebrows were furrowed, my eyes were tightly closed and my mouth was half-open, letting out little cries with each lap of his tongue. I was a mess. Not just me, but Tom too. He ate my pussy like a starving man, letting out short grunts as he worked his mouth on my bundles of nerves.

How many times had I cum? maybe 5 times or 7? I had already lost my way, I had already squirted against his face and he didn't stop. My body shook from all his stimulation, my eyes hitting the back of my skull as my hands pulled at the couch fabric, twisting the fabric and squeezing it. In a desperate act, I tried to move my waist to escape Tom, getting into a fight that Tom obviously won. Holding my waist tightly, his long fingers crushing the skin of my waist with marks that would probably remain for a long time. "Oh no, you don't get to move away from my mouth that easily. I'm not gonna stop until I've had my fill of this sweet little cunt."

With renewed vigor, Tom buried his face between my thighs, alternating between long, deep licks and quick flicks of his tongue over my clit. "I can't-mmh...hah..c-can't.." I mumbled, tears gathering in my eyes as the sound of Tom's labors between my legs made loud, obscene sounds. "Pathetic. You can beat me in a stupid racing game but look who's beating you now, me, me and me." His words vibrated through my pussy, punctuating each word with a firm suck on my clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through my small body, my eyes closing so that small tears came out of my eyes, desperate cries leaving my lips. With the sound of my desperate cries, Tom redoubled his efforts, his tongue sinking into me, feeling my hot walls flutter around the muscle that worked tirelessly and insistently, doing everything to make me cum once again. "Let go, Y/n. Give in to me." He demanded, his voice vibrating against my swollen clit before he sank deeper into my warmth. Tom felt my body responding to his every lick and this only fueled more of the desire he felt for me, ignoring anything and just focusing on giving me as much pleasure as possible and also taking out some of his anger on me. Tom's eyes would open sometimes, looking at my flushed face, loving my reaction - how quickly I melted against his mouth. I let go one last time, the knot unraveling in my stomach, the climax taking over my exhausted body, spasms running through my body as Tom prolonged that sensation, my brain unable to think about anything but him. My legs shook with each wave of pleasure that passed through my petite figure. When it was over, Tom finally let go of my pair of thighs, letting them fall limply onto the couch, removing his wet face from between my legs, looking at me and the way my breathing was still quick, his lips curling into a proud smile. With the back of his right hand, he removed the remains of my fluids from his cheeks and chin, lowering his face to get closer to me, distributing gentle kisses over my body, moving up to my face and giving me a quick peck.

"Are you okay? Was I too rough?"

"Uuughh.. (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)"

Tom gave me a low snort for my exhausted response, straightening my completely messy hair and brushing away some of the tears that still fell, rubbing his thumb gently over my face. "Can you get up?" He questioned worriedly, helping me get up, trying not to laugh when he saw my legs tremble as I stood. I gently slapped his arm, my cheeks burning slightly. "Don't laugh, idiot."

"Are you embarrassed? I was literally between your legs a few seconds ago."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

We both went to the bathroom, but I asked Tom to carry me and he carried me, of course, it was the minimum after I couldn't walk properly because of him. In the bathroom, he removed his clothes and placed them on a space in the marble sink, helping me get into the shower and adjusting the water to a warm, pleasant temperature for both of us.

"Can I clean you up?" He questioned, looking at me, waiting for an answer and I just nodded, taking the soap and handing it to him. Without hesitation, he rubbed the soap over my body, being careful not to hurt me in any way, making me laugh softly. "What's so funny, hm?" "It's just funny to see you taking so much care of me now." "What?" He paused dramatically, his hands going to his waist, as he playfully scolded me for looking, pretending to be offended by what I said. "Wasn't I being very careful with you?" "A little." "A little? What if you fell off the couch? I would be there, holding you so you wouldn't fall off the couch. :)" I rolled my eyes, my hands going to his hand, to grab the soap and go back to taking my shower but Tom didn't let me taking the soap back, insisting that he had to clean me. "But you know, we could try something new, Y/n." His voice suggested something more and I noticed it, raising an eyebrow as I looked in his direction, confused. He sighed, rolling his eyes in sassyness, smirking. "I helped you a lot, you could help me a little too."

"Not here. Not now. We just-"

"Pleaseeeee? :("

"No."

"Pretty please? It's really quick, I promise."

I sighed, looking into his brown eyes that were begging for relief, filled with lust again. "Fine, fine. But you better be quick. >:("

"I promise i'll be quick! ^_^"

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