#This took me way too much time for how short it is

[frombookstoretobookstore]

You Say That Like You Care

Abbot x Injured!Reader Summary: After reader takes a punch to the face, Abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.

TW: Blood, injuries, angsty Abbot, Abbot admitting his feelings.

A/N: I don't love this piece but I needed to get an angsty Abbot piece out of my head. This might be purely self indulgent. Masterlist

Y/n groans as she digs the ice pack deeper into her eye socket to ground herself. Her shift was already in tatters, and she didn’t need to look at the clock to know her official shift hadn’t even begun.

She’d been called in early to help in the ER, a resident had gone home sick. She’d swung in early, happy to help where she could. Now she wished Dana had called someone else. She felt guilt rise in her chest, if she hadn’t come in, it could have been one of the med students who’d drawn the short straw.

She’d stepped in to help with a combative patient, nothing unusual. Hell, she worked with women in labor who usually threatened her the pain was so bad, she was used to never taking anything personally. 

The patient had presented with a partially degloved leg but the meth in his system had sent him ballistic. Y/n had caught a punch to the face. She’d been dragged out by McKay as she’d tried to continue helping despite the blood draining down her face.

So, Y/n finds herself sitting behind the nurses’ station, Princess swearing as she presses gauze to her nose while Y/n ices her swollen eye. Still another hour left to wait before her L&D shift is set to begin.

“Christ sweetie, the hell happened?” Dana asks, quickly donning a pair of gloves, removing the icepack from Y/n’s face as Princess continues cursing under her breath.

Y/n groans and bats her friend’s hands away. “Just dealing with it all tonight. Apparently. I’m fine.” She grounds out as Dana pulls her glasses on to study her bloodied face.

“Did you go to CT?” Dana asks, quickly grabbing some tissues to wipe away the blood encrusting Y/n’s face and neck.

“I’m not wasting CT’s time, I’m fine.” Y/n said, tears springing to her eyes as Dana prods her nose.

“Please tell me you fell. Or lost a fight with a newborn.” Robby says, Dana moving so he could assess their friend.

“She took a hit from curtain three.” Princess says, Y/n hissing when Robby started putting pressure on around her eye.

“Princess, call down to CT and get her in line. Let L&D know they’re down a doctor.” Robby starts testing her pupil reactivity.

“No, I’m not going home. I’ll be fine. I came here to collect myself, not to distract the best workers of the ED.” Y/n says, waving Princess off the phone. She rolls her eyes as she lets Y/n usher her back to work. Robby only sighs as he crosses his arms and takes in her appearance.

“You probably have a concussion if not a fracture. Let’s get some morphine so I can pop this nose back into place. Also, I doubt your patient satisfaction scores will go up with the way you look right now kid.” Robby says, chuckling softly as Y/n tries to scoff through the wads of gauze shoved up her nose.

Y/n bats his hands away again. She stands and Robby tries to push her down onto a stool again. The four newest med students’ eyes grow big as they took in the L&D doctors banged up in front of them as they wait to check in with Robby before leaving.

Y/n groans as she notices the newest pairs of eyes on her. “Alright gremlins time for a teaching moment gather around.” Robby only rolls his eyes.

“If you’re going to be stubborn, at least let Dana come back with morphine. For my sake.” Robby says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he already knows what Y/n is going to do.

“Quickly, how do we do a nasal fraction reduction?” Y/n asks doctors King and Javadi’s hands fly up first. Santos huffs with her arms crossed and opens her mouth to speak.

“Santos you’re out of the running. Raise your hand and maybe I’ll call on you next time.” Dr. Santos’s mouth hands open slightly, clearly not used to the sharp attitude of the usually sunshiny L&D doctor they’ve all gotten used to.

“A doctor manually realigns the displaced bone and cartilage; my guess is we’re looking at a type III nasal trauma. Biggest take away is never do a realignment on your…” Abbot’s gruff words and disapproving scowl are cut off as a sharp crack is heard as Y/n manually realigns her own nasal cavity.

The med student’s faces drop and a few pale even as they watch Y/n reset her own nose, the sound sickening. Y/n bends forward, the pain blinding for a few moments. She rights herself and presses gauze to her nose as it starts leaking blood again.

“That was both the grossest and most impressive thing I’ve ever seen.” Dr. Javadi whispers, her mouth still open.

“As I was going to say before Dr. Y/l/n did one of the stupidest things, is never reset your own nose.” Abbot’s tone is gruff and sharp, and judging by the med students’ faces, he’s using that icy stare that makes everyone uncomfortable.

“Check on your patients. Go.” Y/n only catches Robby’s smirk from across the nurse’s station as the med students scatter. Abbot has her by the elbow and is dragging her into a trauma room, snapping the curtain shut.

He’s slamming drawers closed as he starts grabbing materials to pack her nose. The room is icy, and Y/n can hear her heart pummeling in her ears, feels it in her nose.

Usually, she’d steer clear of pissing Abbot off, knowing his temper is short and how cold he can get. But today? She doesn’t care, she’s exhausted and angry.

“Quit hulking out. I’m fine.” She says, hissing as her breath burns her nose.

He doesn’t answer. His shoulders are tight, his jaw set, and his hands are tense as he drops everything onto a small metal table, yanking it closer as he looks at her nose and bruising around her eye. He adjusts a light to get a better look at the bruising.

“What happened?” He growls, tilting her head back as he checks the alignment on her nose.

“Got slugged.” She shrugs.

“Last I checked you worked with babies.”

“Not all of them are happy to leave the womb.”

“Stop I might actually laugh at one of your deflections.” He deadpans as his fingers skim her skin, checking for more fractures.

“Unless you have some superpowered hands there hulk, you aren’t going to be able to feel any fractures.” She speaks.

“I know.” His eyes are still icy, his brow furrowed as he keeps giving her a once over.

“Still injured. That isn’t going to change the more you stare at me.” She huffs out.

He tips an eyebrow up before throwing away the discarded, bloodied gauze, snapping his gloves off and heaving them into the trash. He leans against the counter behind him, his arms crossed against his chest as he stares at her again. He sighs deeply and lets his head drop.

“Jack Rabbit, talk to me.” She says as she shifts on the bed. “Your silent treatment is even creepier through one eye.” He smirks as he glances up at her trying to open her partially swollen eyelid.

“What are we going to do with you tonight? Any being you deliver is crawling right back in as soon as it sees that face.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He breathes out and runs a hand through his curls and he lets it rest on the back of the neck. His gaze finally meets hers.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I might disappear.” 

He groans as his head falls back. “Every time something like this happens. I worry it’ll be the thing that drives you away from here.” His confession tumbles past his lips.

“You say that like you care.” Her heart swells as he looks at her, his stare full of emotion instead of ice.

“Maybe I do.” He mutters, his arms bracing on either side of him on the counter, his gaze back on his feet.

Y/n swears she can hear the heart monitor from three doors down as Abbot sits with the emotions he just showed her. She’s also sure her mouth is hanging open a bit.

“I.. I’m sorry?” She says, tilting her head towards him as if to hear him better.

“Because maybe I do care. Maybe I care if you get hurt. Maybe I care that I wasn’t called in early. Maybe I care, because I don’t want to see you hurt, ever.” He’s crossed the room in a few strides before she even realizes, close to her again.

“It was just a punch Abbot.” Her brows are furrowing as she grabs his hand as she notes that they’re shaking slightly.

“What if it wasn’t? What if it had been worse and I wasn’t there?” His eyes aren’t on her anymore, their distant.

“Abbot, it was one punch, and I wasn’t alone. Princess nearly bit his arm off, and security was in the room right after.” She laughs slightly, swinging their clasped hands between them.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Abbot’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “It’s not about the punch or the guy who threw it. It’s about you. I care about you, Y/n. I care more than I should. Seeing you hurt, even a little, makes me feel like I’m failing you.”

Y/n’s expression softens, her grip on his hand tightening. “You’re not failing me, Abbot. You never have. I don’t need you to protect me from the world.”

He looks down at their joined hands, “That’s what I want too. More than anything. But it’s hard to turn off the part of me that wants to shield you from everything.”

She smiles gently, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Then don’t turn it off. Just... let me in.”

He nods, letting their clasped hands dangle between them. He steps forward, dropping her hand, before carefully tucking her into his chest. She breathes him in, smelling laundry soap and something that reminds her of leather.

They pull apart and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t trust you to deliver anyone’s child.” She swats at his chest as a laugh rumbles his chest, his eyes clearer.

“Shut up and buy me dinner Army Boy, I’ve got a lot to talk to you about. You aren’t the only one caring more than you should.” His heart flutters in his chest as she stands. Before he can pull the curtain back, she’s pulling him in by his scrub top and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls back with a smile.

She pulls open the curtain to Dana and Robby swapping cash, their eyes wide as they’re caught by the two.

“If either of you breathes a word of this to anyone.” Y/n hisses with her hand up to stop them from running. “I’ll make sure you leave your shifts with similar bandages.” She points to her own face as she walks off, Abbot only smirking as he watches her go.

-------- This one took me FOREVER to write and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been watching Animal Kingdom and I needed to write angsty Abbot after. Hope y'all enjoyed it!

[yourstrulyrani]

Omgg imagine a reader who is obsessed with simons arms. Like veins and biceps and everything. I feel like he would try to be humble but loves teasing her with flexing them

husband!simon x wife!reader ~ you love simon's biceps, and simon loves the way you love them. a/n: as someone who has an unhealthy obsession with biceps this is so me HAHA (also to 🌊, i saw ur request too and am working on it!! ♥︎)

You are obsessed with Simon's body.

Being in the army, you know your husband's body is built for it. You were astonished at how much muscle he gained over the time you've been with him. Currently, he stands at 6'4 and weighs in at a mean 250 pounds. He trains well and you make sure you feed him even better whenever he gets off deployment because you know he has a habit of missing meals when he's away for work. His legs are strong, every muscle prominent and his thighs are thick. His torso is so wide it covers you up whenever he's lying on top of you or hugging you. You make sure to compliment his body whenever you can. You love complimenting your man just as much as he loves to act humble about his build.

Sometimes it's like...

"Simon, you're so huge. I love it." You say as you massage your husband's sore shoulders, straddling the back of his legs while he lies on his stomach on the couch. "It's nothing, lovie. Just comes with the job." He dismisses your praise, but hides his blush by looking away from you and hiding his face into the crease of his inner elbow.

Or sometimes it's...

"Baby, did you get more buff over deployment?" Your hands move up and down his torso, and you can most definitely feel the change in the definition of his abs because you can feel them through his shirt. "I guess so, doll?" He gives you a shy smile, "It's nothing, though, really. Probably some extra muscle because of the missions." He takes the hands that were roaming around his torso and places them up to his lips, kissing your wrists. "I missed you, sweet girl."

Albeit, your most favorite part about your man is his arms.

Specifically his biceps. You catch yourself staring at the way his veins start from his hands and end up at his biceps. When he's away for deployment, you manage doing the heavy lifting like moving the coffee table while cleaning or carrying multiple grocery bags in each hand. But when Simon is off deployment, you make sure to put those arms to use every single time you can. Simon doesn't mind either. If anything, he loves it and wants to be of help for you. He vacuums with one hand and lifts the coffee table with the other, he takes in all the grocery bags in one trip, and chops the wood for the fireplace without you ever asking to do it.

Simon caught on very early in your relationship that you had some sort of obsession with his arms, and he makes sure to act upon it. He may act all humble, but he loves the way you vocalize your love for his body and the way you look at him too. He loves to use his arms whenever he can, always looking for an opportunity to show himself off to his sweetheart of a wife.

One day, you ordered two bags of soil for your garden. Before you could carry them inside, Simon stopped you at the doorway, "I got you, lovie." He rolled up the sleeves to his already short-sleeved shirt, pushing them up to his shoulders. He took one bag in each of his arms. All you could do in the moment was stare at the way his arms flexed dangerously. Even with one of his arms tattooed fully, you could still see the curve of his bicep and the veins that adorned it. You were caught out of your daze when you heard him ask sweetly, "Do you want these in the backyard?" You nodded with your mouth open, still focusing on the bulge of his arms. Before heading over to the backyard, he passes you a cheeky wink. He knows as much as you do how good his biceps look, and he loves you for it. "You know, if you take a picture it'll last longer."

He walks over to you, bags still in his hold, and places a kiss to your lips before heading over to the backyard.

Tease.

The next day, when you ask him to grab your phone, he checks out your change of wallpaper: Asleep on the couch shirtless is Simon lying on his back, tattooed bicep and gorgeous torso visible in the frame with your cat on his lap.*

*i specifically thought of this gorgeous drawing by @bitterrfruit for reference. if you're seeing this arabella, i love your writing and art you are so, in the best way possible, disgustingly talented.

~ yours truly, rani ♥︎

[uzurimisery]

love thy neighbor. / john price x reader

Buying a house to use when you’re never home is a stupid idea, but John Price has done it anyway. He doesn’t think much of it after 10 years, til you move in behind him, and then suddenly it’s not so bad.

warnings: MDNI, John “talk her through it” gentle dom Price, unprotected sex, piv, oral sex (fem receiving), reader is called girl, praise kink, light biting, implied pregnancy, you have a child at the end

w.c.: 5.6k

It’s not often that John finds himself so… distracted. With a job like his, that means certain death.  Never let your head wander. Never let your eyes drift. Stay focused. Ready. Out in the field, your head swivels for a bird like his is and that's a bullet to your temple. Hopefully, the shot kills you right away and doesn’t leave you bleeding on the floor. Slow and painful way to go. Choking on your blood, teammates around you just watching, wishing they’d finish the job, and you wouldn’t have to fade away.

But there’s something about you that’s got him distracted. 

Your garden backs up against his, property lines defined by an old wooden fence that's been there since the 60s. Not much to look at for his side.  He keeps his grass cut short with minimal landscaping. Few large paver stones between the patio and the slab of concrete the hot tub sits. He’s rarely even home to see it. 

The house had been a purchase he felt he had to make when he hit 30. Soap joked it was his midlife crisis since every crisis could be their midlife one. He guessed it gave him a weird sense of normalcy that never sat right. Like shoes that are ever so slightly too tight. They fit, could even fit better if you took the time to stretch them out, but he doesn’t. Told himself it’d be a better fit when he retired. If he got the chance. 

 Now he’s 40, a homeowner for a decade, and it’s barely used, and he’s barely there. Hell, the weekly cleaner and gardener had been there more since he bought it than he had. John’s only ever there when he’s got an extended break between missions, but well and truly, how often is that?

He hadn’t even noticed when the old couple who used to own the end of the terrace house passed away, and you moved in. Meredith and James. It had happened eight months ago, right at the end of autumn. Tells you how much of a good neighbor he is. John didn’t learn about it until April hit, and you came knocking on his door. 

You had a black oversized jumper tucked into some dark wash high-waisted jeans with a big hole on the left knee. Hair held back with a claw clip, brows drawn ever so slightly together. Like you were nervous as you shifted side to side holding a plate of cookies. 

It was one of those gross British spring days where the air starts to get muggy as the sun hits its peak. Past the part of spring where it’s grey and drizzly for weeks straight, the cold still clinging to your bones. 

He’d barely been home for 13 hours. Came in and passed out, only woke up about 20 minutes ago, and turned on the TV in the lounge to listen to the news while he made a late lunch. Still in the groggy headspace of jetlag, but he swore you looked radiant. 

“Hi! I wanted to introduce myself.” You had a soft voice. Gentle. Like you were afraid of spooking him. “Meredith told me that you’re often overseas, and… well, this is the first time I think I’ve seen you home.” You gave him your name and told him you owned the house behind his now. 

John was pleasant for the whole interaction, chatting with you for about 15 minutes before you excused yourself. Smiled and said all the right things like his mum raised him to, still not really all there mentally. Didn’t even really click for him that you shared the fence with him until two days later, he saw you in the garden, taking a hammer to the fence with a mean look on your face. 

Good opportunity for him to be neighborly. 

“You alright?” He’s leaning out the first-floor window, arms resting on the windowsill. 

John didn’t expect you to startle so much, dropping the hammer with a shriek before your head whipped up to him. “Fucking hell you scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, love,” he chuckles, “Something wrong with the fence?”

“Yeah,” there's sweat beading down your forehead that you swipe away. He has a wandering thought about licking it off you. “I think the wood’s rotted through. I leaned something against it yesterday and it about gave through.”

Great opportunity for him to get closer to you. 

“I’ll come down and have a look.”

Turns out the wood was rotted through for more than half the fence. The whole thing was one bad wind day away from falling over. John had removed some of the worst parts that day with plans to remove the rest on Tuesday morning. That was until you both got hit with a stop-work order. One of the neighbors had called the council and complained. Something about protecting historic areas, and the boundary of the two properties not being legally defined. Not their place at all, but regardless, neither of you could do anything about it now. 

They did at least let John finish taking the fence down for safety concerns, so the two of you spent that time getting to know each other better. You were 34, worked as a fashion buyer, but you really wanted to be a designer, liked holidays with your girlfriends where you could try new wines, and were perhaps the sweetest bird he’d ever met, hidden behind a layer of fierce sass. 

Then the council told the two of you it’d be another eight to ten weeks for them to assess the new fence and then another three for them to do an impact report on whether it’d require the other fences to be changed. Typical British bureaucracy. The fence was being built in the same way it had looked prior to it being torn down.

But now it meant the two of you shared one big garden. One big, ambiguous green space only defined by how much landscaping you had done and the numerous planters full of growing veggies you had. Not a big deal for him. While he liked his space, a week or two of shared garden wouldn’t kill him. 

Then the pandemic hit and no one was going to approve jack shit or build anything. It was like the council fully vanished, emails going unanswered. 

John had been deployed shortly after the lockdowns were announced and told you to email him if anything important came up with the council. You laughed, told him you would, and followed it up by demanding he stay safe lest you have to deal with a new neighbor and no fence. 

True to your word, you did email him. It was never any updates regarding the fence. Rather, it was you checking in on him and telling him about the local gossip. Turned into penpals. Between bouts of violent warfare, he got to know you, and hell, he’d say you’re bordering on friend territory now, which isn’t a title he gives out often. He tried to be polite and cordial, but the image of you sunbathing never left his mind. 

When he came back 12 weeks later in the dead of night, he climbed into his bed in the primary suite on the third floor and passed out. Bags dropped by the front door, half blocking it from opening. Maybe he was finally getting too old for this. 

 He didn’t wake up until 1 pm, sunshine making the room uncomfortable and hot. He hadn’t programmed the aircon to come on yet. Sweat clung to his back, t-shirt fabric uncomfortably damp, and he pulled himself out of bed.

Trudging to the window, he throws it open in the hopes that the jet stream might bless him with some breeze before he hops into the shower. He might have opened it with more force than needed, hinges creaking, now squinting from how bright the sun was.

Then he saw you. Lounging on a beach chair. 

Now, remembering the lack of fence between the two of you, he didn’t think much of it until he rubbed his eyes as his vision cleared.

You were lying in the chair, sunglasses on as you listened to Jazz House, a staple of yours, he noticed, stretched out supine and basking in the sun. The glint of an anklet was the first thing he noticed before trailing his eyes upwards to your baby blue bikini bottoms and no top. Tits soft and supple in the sun. They shone, covered in what he assumed was tanning oil, jiggling as you raised your arms to cover your eyes. 

If he were a better man, he’d look away. Step back from the window and pretend he never saw anything. Unfortunately, he’s not a better man. John looks on a bit longer, memorizing every inch of your skin, before he walks to the bathroom. 

The shower he takes is ice cold.

It’s a couple of days later, right before the sun starts to wane, the light turning golden, and the squad has shown up for a barbecue. You’ve spoken to him briefly, claiming you’d catch up more when you weren’t so busy. 

Price’s place became the de facto grilling spot a few years back. It was probably the most use it had ever gotten. Helped, he had a big garden, a high-quality grill, and guest rooms for the lads to crash in if they drank too much. 

Ghost and Soap had brought four packs of Carling. Pure shite in his opinion, but Soap was a fan and at the end of day free beer is free beer. John’s on his third can, enjoying the build of a buzz as he stands over the grill flipping kebabs, lamb, and beef with some veg, listening in on a story Ghost is telling him. There’s an old 80s rock playlist one of the lads found on Spotify that’s agreeable enough. Soap and Gaz are wrestling while Ghost intermittently laughs at their attempts to pin each other. 

He almost forgets there’s no fence between your places till you come out bounding over in a short little white dress that scrapes the tops of your thighs, struggling to open a jar of olives. You looked like a goddamn angel. 

“Hey John,” he places the tongs down as you come closer.  “Could you help me open this jar? The girls and I are making martinis, and I can’t seem to—oh. Hello!” 

You’ve crossed the imaginary threshold and are only a few feet away from him as you look up, still trying to open the jar. 

“Take it this is your squad?” Your eyes flick between him and the group of very large men near him. 

“Aye, love,” he motions with his head towards them. “Lads, say hello.”

Like the well-trained dogs they are, a round of “You Alright,” and “Evenin’” rings out. 

You smile and give a small wave. “Sorry, I won’t interrupt for long.” You draw closer to him, holding out the jar with one hand and the other curling around his bicep. “Could you open this? We’re dangerously low on olives, and we’re making martinis.” 

You smell like coconut cream, vanilla, and sunscreen as the tips of your French manicured nails catch on his skin. 

John smiles,  takes the jar, and opens it before sealing it again and passing it to you. You beam up at him, lips shiny with gloss. “There you go, love,” he tries not to look down the front of your dress, but from this angle, it's hard not to. Especially once he notices you’re not wearing a bra.

“Ugh, my hero!” Sighing dramatically, you give his arm another squeeze before holding the jar with both hands. “I’ll bring you a martini as payment. What are you making?”

You’ve leaned across him, pulling your hair to the side as you inspect the grill. From the corner of his eye, he sees Gaz give Soap a nudge. 

“Kebabs.” You lean a bit too far forward and he puts a hand your your waist to steady you. “Have a few steaks to put on if the occasion calls for it.” 

You gasp and smack his chest. Mock betrayal and hurt with a smile. It’s light and playful, and you don’t make any move to get away from his hand on your waist. “Where was my invite?” 

John raises a brow. “You told me you were with the girls tonight.”

“Yes, but if I had known you were grilling I would have told them to sod off.”

One of the boys, surprisingly, Ghost, laughs. It’s a real laugh too, which is a bit mental coming from him. 

“Don’t be cruel to your friends now.” 

“They’d understand,” you’re quick with the reply. “We’re only having martinis and cheese.” 

You do this thing he’s picked up on. Leaning a little too forward and looking up at him through your eyelashes, lips in a slight part. Intentional? Maybe. Innocent? Probably. Dangerous? 100%. It’s the kind of look that gives him pause.  Stabs him in the heart and weasels its way into his bloodstream. Gets his thoughts going a bit too fast.

Makes him wonder what you’d look like with his cock in your mouth. 

“Tell you what,” he offers, clearing his throat. “You go to Tesco and get some more, and your lot can join us.”

“Would you guys mind?” You direct the question to the squad, peaking over John’s shoulder.

Even if they did, with the hunger Price has in his eyes for you, they’d never have said no. There’s an intensity there they’ve only seen in the field, and they aren’t stupid. They can tell that he’s itching to fuck you. He had been glued to his inbox when they were deployed and evasive about answering them about who he was emailing. Easy to put two and two together.

20 minutes and one Tesco Express trip later, you and two of your friends, Joanne and Marcy, had pulled up your two garden chairs to join the men, bringing with you enough martinis for everyone. The three of you go the rounds teasing one another, breaking into fits of giggles, and you all get situated once the food is done cooking. He didn’t expect it, but your friends get on well with his squad. 

Rather than bring one of John's dining room chairs out, you’ve taken to perching on his knee. One arm draped across his shoulders, toying with his shirt, and the other holding a skewer that you pick at in between talking. You’re acting like it's the most natural thing in the world, so he does the same, resting a hand on your knee.

Once the food is done and you girls have moved onto a wine, unmotivated to make more martinis, you get looser. The sun has fully set now, and everyone's been well fed. It's reaching the point where you know that once someone says they’re heading home, everyone will naturally see themselves out, but no one’s making the first move.

He’s painfully hard and every time you wiggle, giggly from the alcohol, your ass brushes against him and makes it worse. Maybe it’s the alcohol getting to him or maybe it’s the pent-up sexual frustration, but when you move again, he can’t help but whisper in your ear, low and slow. “Careful there, love.”

“What do you mean?” Voice soft and teasing as you turn towards him. 

 He likes the sweet and innocent act you put on as you rock back against him. At first, he thought you weren’t aware of it, but now it’s clear you knew.

It’s a quick, sharp breath he draws. “You know exactly what I mean,” John’s lips brush your ear. The low rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, heat pooling in your core. 

“Hmm…” you rock backward again. “Maybe I need you to spell it out for me?” 

There’s a coy smile on your lips that makes him want to fucking bend you over the table. But he’s barely a gentleman and wouldn’t do that in front of your friends. One hand grabs at your waist, stilling your movements. The tension between the two of you feels electric. You’re hyper-aware of every place his bare skin meets yours. It’s not quite a warning, not quite a promise. Just enough to make you realize he’s barely holding onto his composure.

Joanne laughs loudly, pulling your attention outwards. 

Ever aware, Ghost notices what's transpiring between the two of you and stands. “Right then, time for me to head home.” 

Price watches as Ghost ushers the lads up, and your friends follow. He leads them all to the back door, turning to Price and nodding before heading through himself. You catch the look he gives John as he goes. A subtle little note.

Behave. 

The door shuts and the garden falls quiet. 

Now alone, nerves start creeping through you. Doesn’t help that John doesn’t move. He sits there for a minute, hands on your waist, thumbs brushing at the fabric of your dress. You’re 99.99% sure that he wants the same thing you do, but god forbid a girl feels nervous. Feels like your heart is loud enough he could hear it as well as he felt it through your clothes. 

He exhales, slow and controlled. 

Then, his grip tightens on your waist. 

“Nervous?” he noses at your shoulder, mustache tickling slightly. His voice is low and rough, like he recently smoked a cigar. 

You nod, small and shy. “A bit.”

John hums, happy he has that effect on you. Almost like he’s purring. One of his hands slides up your front, brushing past your tits, before settling on your jaw and turning your face towards him. The look in his eyes is one you’ve never seen before. It goes beyond hunger, he’s starving. 

“Don’t be.”

You crash into him. The kiss is heavy, all-consuming, and leaves you lightheaded. John’s hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers enmeshing themselves in your hair, tilting you as he sees fit. His other hand roams your body, grabbing your breast and squeezing it. You moan, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him. 

When you break apart, panting slightly and leaning back against him, you giggle as he presses open-mouthed kisses against your exposed neck and shoulder. “Been thinking about this for a while, pretty girl.”

He lets go of your hair to pick you up at the waist and reposition you better on his lap. “Thinking about ‘ow pretty you’d sing for me.” John settles his hands on your hips now. “‘Ow sweet you’d taste.” 

Strong hands pull your hips back before pushing them forward. It goes to your head a bit, and you're stunned as he repeats the motion.

“Don’t be shy now. Had no problem doing this earlier, did you?” 

“No,” you stuttered out, grinding your hips down as instructed. 

“That’s a sweet girl,” he continues to guide your hips. 

Each bump and grind pulls you further and further into a corner of debauchery you thought you left behind in your 20s. It sends waves of pleasure through your body. John’s hands grip you tighter, driving you into a steady rhythm with him. His erection strains against his shorts. 

“That’s it,” he growls. “Just like that, love.”

Your breath is short gasps drawn in a haze as the friction builds, panties soaked and clinging to your folds. Price’s lips find your neck again, pressing more hot kisses to the strip of flesh. Feels like you’re burning up as his teeth graze your pulse point, and you whimper. 

“John,” you plead. For what you aren’t sure. 

He takes his hands off your hips to push the straps of your dress off your shoulders. It falls softly off them, exposing your tits, nipples hard. John tweaks one, rolling it between his fingers, and your head falls forward with a soft cry. You don’t stop moving your hips, lost in the feeling as he continues to palm your chest. He cups them, kneading them as you continue to rock your hips.

“Love… Sweet girl,” he bucks his hips up to meet yours, grinding himself against your aching core. “Tell me you want this and I’ll take you inside and give you what you’re begging for.”

“I want it,” you stutter out. “Please, John.”

His grip on your breasts tightens. “That’s it.” He stands, picking you up bridal style in one fluid motion, your body pressed firmly against his chest. The night air is cool as it hits your bare breasts. John is swift as he takes you inside, closing the door with his foot as he brings you into the lounge. He knows he doesn’t want to make the trek upstairs yet. He’s gotta fuck you on the couch before he takes you upstairs and fucks you in his bed or he might burst at the seams and fuck you like a wild animal. 

Price deposits you on the chaise part of his sectional so he can lay you out as you pull your dress off, leaving you in your panties. You look goddamn delectable. 

He pulls off his shirt and shorts, leaving himself in his boxer briefs as he moves towards you. A hand wraps around your ankle, pulling your leg up and pushing you onto your back. John kisses your ankle and drops your leg, before he grabs the waistband of your panties and pulls them off you.

“Look at this,” he brings your panties up. The white’s gone transparent in the light. “Soaked through.”

Price gets down on his knees and pulls your pussy towards him. “Knew you’d have a pretty cunt. Just look at you. So wet and ready for me.”

He runs a finger through your core, chuckling with a full smile as his finger comes back glistening. Parting his lips, he brings it to his mouth and moans at the taste, watching as it makes you wiggle in anticipation. “Delicious. You going to be good for me and let me eat you out?” 

You nod diligently. Submission looks good on you. 

His hands grip your thigh, pushing them further apart as he settles between them. He leans forward, presses a kiss against the inside of your thigh, and then drags his tongue against you in one long, smooth stripe. The groan he lets out comes from deep inside him, echoing in the hollow of his chest. And he buries himself in your pussy. 

He focuses in on your slit, sensitive from the lead up and circles it with the tip of his tongue. John sucks it into his mouth, passing his tongue over it. Your hips buck, jagged, and stuttered as he does. It feels like he’s got you on display, and the rapt attention goes to your head. Each pass of his tongue pulls you closer and closer to the edge as he devours you. 

A finger prods at your hole, sliding in with no resistance. He pumps it in and out, warming you up, before adding a second. The sound of his filthy slurps and your moans fill the room as he pumps in and out of you, angling his fingers to bump your G-spot. It's obscene. You’re so wet it sounds like the set of a porno. 

John wants nothing more than to consume you. Wants to watch you come on his tongue and clench down on his fingers. He can feel your body tensing, muscles pulling tight as your climax draws nearer. Your hands fly to his head, pulling on his short hair, as you grind your pussy against his face, and Price moans. 

“Sweet girl, cum for me.” He pulls away for a second to speak before going right back to working you to a fever pitch.

“John,” it comes out as a broken gasp. “I’m gonna cum.”

He hums in approval, and it sends you over the edge. Your clamp down around his fingers like a vice, and it washes over you. Price doesn’t let up, doesn't stop. He continues to pump his fingers at the same steady pace, extending your orgasm. Your nails dig into his scalp, spurring him on as he sucks on your clit harder. 

John can feel your juices gushing out, getting caught in his facial hair, and soaking the couch. He wants to break you, make you fall apart completely, to build you back up with the knowledge that there’ll never be another man like him. So you keep wearing those tiny little dresses around him. You’re pushing at his head now, and he takes his mouth off you with a wet pop. When you lock eyes with him, you whimper.

“Fucking gorgeous love. Prettiest I’ve ever seen.” he purrs, pressing a kiss against your clit, making you twitch from sensitivity. “You want more?”

“I want you to fuck me,” it’s a breathy whisper as you come down from your high and he swears he’s never heard something so erotic before in his entire life.

John remembers that he hasn’t had a hook-up in years and that there are no condoms in the house. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable, but I don’t have any condoms.”

You’ve scrambled up from your back.  Propping yourself up on your knees, chest resting on the back of the couch. 

“I don’t care,” the way the eye contact you make with him from over your shoulder makes him feel should be criminal. “Fuck me.”

He stands up, left knee popping from an old injury, and he looms over you. Big, beefy frame taking up all the space behind you. John reaches down and pulls down his boxer briefs. It’s not lost on him how you lock in on his erection as it bobs up and makes a soft plap against his stomach. His cock is thick, probably the thickest you’ve ever had, with an angry red swollen head leaking pre-cum.

Price grips your hips, pulls them closer to him, and deepens the arch in your back as he settles between your spread thighs again. The thick length on him meet your slit. He gives an experimental thrust, grinding himself against you and coating himself in you. 

“You’re a dangerous one, aren’t you?” John quips, reaching down and grabbing his cock to line up with your entrance. His head catches, pushing ever so slightly in, but not enough. 

At this, you push your hips back, pushing more of his length inside you, and the stretch is delicious. He’s prepped you so well that there’s not even an ounce of discomfort— the sweet growing feeling of being full. 

“Worst criminal you’ll ever meet,” you hum, pushing back further. “Show me the error of my ways?” 

The teasing lilt gives John the encouragement he needs to let go and fully enjoy this and finally he thrust forward, sinking himself fully inside your drooling cunt. He pulls out to the tip and then buries himself to the hilt. 

“Fuck,” he groans, voice strained as your walls flutter around him. “Tight ‘n’ warm cunt made for me.”

Price sets a steady pace with long, full strokes. Skin meeting skin fills the room as you meet his thrusts. He leans down, breath hot against your shoulder as he kisses your shoulder, relishing in your soft pants before biting the skin. It makes you tighten around him as a sharp moan breaks through. 

One hand slides around your hips to your front where he finds your clit and starts rubbing it in tight circles. His voice is low in your ear. “That’s it, love, can feel you getting tighter ‘round me.”

He punctuates each word with a deep thrust. 

“Such a sweet girl, been so welcoming for me. Taking it like you were made for it.”

The praise makes you dizzy, your head falling forward on the couch. He’s quick to wrap his other arm around your chest and pulls you upright, flush against his chest. The new angle lets him push even deeper inside you while he continues to play with your clit, your orgasm quickly building.

“Christ, you’re like the gift that doesn’t stop.” Sparks of pleasure shoot through you as he bites the shell of your ear. “Feel how deep I am inside you? How your tight little pussy clings to me?” 

Price kisses along your jawline, beard scraping your skin. “Can tell you’re close. Cum for me love. Want to feel you cum on my cock.” 

Your skin feels prickly. Like you’re too hot and too cold at the same time.

“That’s it, dove. Let it happen,” he urges you on, letting your chest rest back on the couch and cementing his hold on your hips. “So sweet for me.”

And you let it happen. It’s slow and builds itself up, and he continues to thrust up into you til it reaches a fever pitch that makes your whole body shake and writhe. The loudest moan you've ever let out comes past your lips, your fingers digging into the couch cushions. 

“That’s my girl,” he growls, thrusting faster. “Tell me where you want me.”

It’s hard to speak as he doesn’t let up. 

“Inside.” 

“What was that?” John teases you, bending down like he can’t hear you. 

“Inside, I want it inside,” you cry out. 

John’s happy to oblige, rutting into you like a wild animal. His thrusts are harder than before, your ass jiggling everytime his hips meet yours with wet paps. The force rocks your entire body, and all you can do is take it. With a final thrust, he sinks all the way inside you, cock pulsing. Ropes of hot cum fill your insides and it feels like the world goes blurry and you aren’t sure what happens next.

You’re groggy when he gets you to come to. A lazy, satisfied smile spreads across your face when you’re able to focus on him. He’s got a warm washcloth and is cleaning you up. He’s so soft and gentle as he goes, kissing your knee. The room is quiet, filled with an intimacy that feels far too real, like something between lovers, for the first time you’ve slept with him.

“You alright?” He asks, his tone is tender and soft.  The look in his eyes is so tender, like you carry the moon and stars. It tugs at your heart and nestles itself in your chest next to it.

You nod, still a little dazed, still in the afterglow of a really good orgasm. “I’m good. Really good.”

That smile he has makes you clench. “Want to take me upstairs and fuck me on a real bed?”

John laughs a full belly laugh. “Bossy woman, you are.” 

The complaint is one of nothing but jest. A barking dog with no bite. He’s already picked you up and crossed the threshold to the stairs and starts heading up then. 

────────────────────※ ·❆· ※──────────────────

TWO YEARS LATER…

It’s another sunny Saturday, so everyone's once again at the Price household for a barbecue. Feels routine at this point. You’re in the kitchen finishing up a cheese board and drinks, he's out at the grill. The lads are doing what they always do, except now, Soap is doing it to impress Joanne. She sits on one of the now-plentiful outdoor chairs and pretends not to be impressed. Mundane and peaceful. Not something he thought he’d ever experience. 

Marcy opens the back door and comes out with the cheese board. You’re trailing behind her with a fat nine-month-old on your hip. Rhys, named after John’s very Welsh grandfather, takes after his father and is perhaps the biggest baby anyone's ever seen. He’s also an incredibly happy baby. 

The second John sees you’ve come outside, he's placed the tongs down to come kiss you. Every morning he’s not on base, he wakes up next to you, but he still can’t believe it’s real. Rhys starts babbling excitedly as he walks closer. Price bends down to press a kiss to his head before kissing you. 

“Your son is heavy,” you shift, hiking Rhys up to get a better seat on your hip, and look at him. “You get that from your daddy.” 

You boop him on the nose, and the baby erupts into a fit of giggles. 

“You calling me fat, dove?” 

“One of us was the biggest baby in the county history when we were born, and the other one is mummy, isn’t that right, Rhys?” You attack Rhys’ cheeks with kisses, giggles continuing from the little boy. He’s losing it now, little hands grabbing at your face as he squirms and wiggles.

John can’t argue with the facts. He was the biggest baby, still to this day, to have been born in his home county. So he smiles, kisses both of you again, and goes back to grilling. 

The meal is how it often is. Loud and full of laughter. Plates passed around, drinks passed around, Rhys passed from person to person. The sun is warm on everyone's skin with the scent of sunscreen hanging in the air. 

In the lull between bites, Gaz pipes up.“Are you two ever going to fix the fence?”

Everyone's head swivels to the back of the property, fence fully gone, where they can see clearly into the other lounge. It’s covered in baby toys and fashion mannequins. It’s the smaller of the two houses, so when you got married, it turned into your studio to work on your brand.  

You giggle, sipping from your glass. “Ah, right.”

Rhys slaps the table, the glass making little hollow sounds. 

John looks out fondly at your back door before facing you. Fuck the fence.

It can stay down.

©️ uzuzrimisery

thank you cas for beta reading :)

[coryndoll]

❛ we make each other alive . .

does it matter if it hurts? ❜

I’M COMING, WAIT FOR ME.

PLOT you enter the hunger games a proud weapon of your district, only to find your sharpest blade is the boy beside you, and you’re not sure which one of you the capitol wants to break first.

CONTENT chapter one, best read in dark mode, blood, meeting the mentors, tribute parade, not too much rafe and y/n interaction YET but it’ll come sooner than you think.

main masterlist | tag list | previous

you’ve been on trains before. nothing like this one.

this one is too smooth, too fast. you barely feel it move. the windows blur with tunnels and sleek, metallic walls outside, sometimes breaking into vast stretches of nothing but gray-blue light and darkness blinking like a heartbeat.

you sit alone in a chair that could probably buy someone a house. everything is red velvet and gold trim, like the whole train was stitched together from the capitol’s pocket change. it smells expensive, too, like citrus and fake flowers.

you’re still in your reaping dress. someone said they’d bring you new clothes soon. someone else took your measurements. you don’t remember who. your ears have been ringing since your name was called.

rafe’s across the room, stretched out on the other side of the glass table, one leg over the other like he’s posing for a photo. he hasn’t said much. his face is unreadable, blank, but not stupid, like he’s already memorizing escape routes. or maybe he’s memorizing the names of every other tribute so he can picture them all dead.

his jaw clenches when the train shifts again, barely noticeable unless you’re looking.

you are.

the tv flickers on in the far wall. someone’s playing back the reapings.

district 1’s girl looked dangerous. all eyes and confidence. her male counterpart practically flexed his way down the stage. typical.

2 is you and rafe. 3, 4, and so on.

none of them look particularly terrifying. not yet. they will, once they’re all cleaned up and shoved into costume and trained to kill. but right now most of them look like scared kids in too-big shoes. even the ones who try to smile.

you both just watch the reapings on the screen to fill the silence, but nothing sticks. no one looks that threatening. yet.

then the door hisses open. enobaria, one of the few living victors in two, steps in first. she’s tall, composed, her glossy dark hair pulled back in a ponytail that looks too tight to be comfortable. she’s dressed sharp, tailored, like someone with nothing left to prove. and her teeth . . . they catch the light when she smiles. pointed. sharpened. but she doesn’t bare them unless she wants to.

she gives you both a once-over. “stand up,” she says. her voice is calm, but still firm. rafe stands first, slow but steady. you follow, legs stiff from sitting so long. your stomach turns with the train, or maybe it’s her.

behind her comes brutus. he’s massive, silent, and broad-shouldered like a living wall. he doesn’t bother with a greeting. just closes the door behind them and lets the quiet settle.

“so,” enobaria says, crossing her arms loosely. “you’re the ones we’re working with this year.”

brutus grunts. it might be agreement.

“you look the part,” she adds, tilting her head. “though i heard someone got a little messy getting here.”

her gaze slides to rafe. not judgmental, just amused. rafe shrugs, unbothered.

“he shoved me first.”

brutus narrows his eyes. “you still broke his nose.”

“he was weak,” rafe says. “he would’ve died in the first five minutes.”

you glance between them, curious how this will go.

enobaria lets out a short laugh. “well, he’s not wrong.”

brutus doesn’t laugh. but he doesn’t press, either. “next time, control the impulse,” he says. “you’re a tribute. not a brawler in the street.”

rafe gives the smallest nod, jaw tight.

enobaria moves closer, nodding toward the door. “come on. let’s talk where it matters.”

they lead you down the corridor to the next train car. it’s some strategy room, clearly. it’s darker, more utilitarian. the walls are lined with screens, a long table set in the center surrounded by deep leather chairs. maps of the arena’s past years flicker faintly, and files are stacked at brutus’s side.

you sit beside rafe. he leans forward with his elbows on his knees. you sit straighter, eyes flicking across the maps, learning. everything matters now.

“this is where we get to know what we’re working with,” brutus says, finally breaking the silence. “we’ll go over schedules soon. training days, interviews, assessments. but first—we need to know you.”

“what’d they teach you in the academy?” enobaria asks, sitting across from you. her eyes land on you first. “what’s your strength?”

you don’t hesitate. “blades. close-range combat. throwing knives too.”

“accuracy?” she asks.

you nod. “tight grouping. fast recovery. high hit rate.”

she lifts an eyebrow. “mental?”

you pause. then, “i don’t freeze, i think under pressure. i read people.”

“hm.” she taps her nails against the table once. satisfied.

“you?” brutus turns to rafe.

“hand-to-hand,” rafe says. “blunt weapons. axe, mace, staff. trained in a few chokeholds.”

brutus nods slightly. “pain tolerance?”

rafe’s mouth quirks at the edge. “pretty high.”

enobaria hums. “good. we can work with that.”

that makes brutus look at him a little longer. not smiling. but almost pleased. “you’ve got potential,” brutus says simply.

“both of you,” enobaria agrees. “we’ve seen enough tributes over the years to know who’s dead the second they get off the train. you two—”

“they might have a shot,” brutus finishes.

you glance at rafe. for the first time, he’s looking at you too.

“now,” brutus says, dragging a folder closer. “you’ll have three days in the training center before assessments. we need to talk presentation. strategy. we want sponsors watching you from day one.”

“confidence,” enobaria says, pointing at you. “you’ve got that, i can tell. play it up. don’t act like a victim. victors don’t come from people who want to be liked.”

you lean back a little, arms crossed.

“this year’s tributes look soft,” brutus says. “a few big ones from four and eleven, but no real killers. not yet.”

“that gives you an advantage,” enobaria says, gesturing lazily. “you walk into training like you’re already the ones to beat. let them know you’re district two. let them fear you.”

rafe leans forward slightly. “what about other strategy?” he asks. “like alliances?”

brutus smiles for the first time. it’s not kind. “you make them. you break them. that’s up to you.”

“but don’t expect loyalty,” enobaria adds. “only one of you walks out. remember that.”

her eyes slide to yours, thoughtful. “are you planning to be the one?”

you answer before you can think, “i don’t plan to die.”

brutus lets out a short, sharp laugh. it’s not mocking, it’s approval. “good. that’s the attitude.”

you feel your pulse steady a little. faster than it should be, but controlled.

you don’t know what’s coming exactly, but it’s war. and at least now, you know who’s on your side.

brutus stands then, massive and silent, nodding toward the door. “we’ll regroup before we reach the capitol.”

enobaria follows, pausing in the doorway.

“get some rest,” she says. “you’ve got a lot of blood to spill.”

you see the capitol from the train window as it pulls into the platform, and for a second, it feels like something’s crawling beneath your skin. there’s a quiet itch that tells you this is not your home. this is the center of the world that wants you dead, but dressed up pretty when it does it.

they lead you through long marble corridors, ceilings stretched so high it hurts your neck to look. peacekeepers flank every corner, faceless in their stark white armor. everything smells sterile and expensive.

you’re taken to the third floor. district 2’s floor. brutus tells you it’s yours now, until you’re dead or crowned.

your apartment is bigger than any home you’ve ever lived in. warm lighting, silver walls. there's fruit in glass bowls, too, and a view that wraps around the city like a threat.

but there’s no time to rest. your prep team is waiting.

they descend on you like insects, swarming with excitement and thin, practiced hands. you lose count of how many of them there are—two? three? one has pink hair styled in loops, another wears latex gloves and talks only in hums. they’re gentle, mostly. methodical.

they strip you down to nothing and pretend not to notice the bruises on your ribs, the dried blood under your nails, the way your lip is still swollen from the reaping.

you sit still through the scalding bath, the scrubbing, the waxing. they touch every part of you like you’re a project, like you’re not a person. they remove every piece of you that looks too human, like body hair, scars, dirt, blood, pride.

when they finish, you feel hollowed out. but also . . . polished. like a weapon pulled clean from the forge.

they leave, giggling, promising to return. and then the door clicks open again, and in walks your stylist.

her name is valis.

she’s tall, not much older than you, with skin like obsidian and eyes rimmed in silver liner that somehow makes her look even sharper. her hair is shaved close on one side, the rest pulled back into a thick braid wrapped in gold wire. she wears all black, all angles. she looks at you the way someone looks at a blueprint, deciding how best to make it a masterpiece.

she doesn’t smile.

instead, she steps closer, circles you once, and says only: “you’ll be unforgettable.”

you believe her.

valis doesn’t ask you many questions. she tells you how it’s going to be.

“district two is masonry, strength, legacy. they expect you to look like gladiators, yes, but that’s easy. what they won’t expect is how we make you divine. not just killers, but symbols.”

you’re fitted into a bodysuit made of something metallic and matte, like iron but soft to the touch. dark, gunmetal gray that catches the light and splits it. sculpted pieces of armor are fitted onto your shoulders, chest, arms. not bulky. sleek. molded to your frame like it belongs to you, like it was always yours, waiting.

etched into the armor are fine lines, maps of old battlegrounds, wars lost and won, mountains cracked open for stone. the designs shimmer faintly when you move.

your hair is pulled back, tight and regal. your face is left mostly bare, just sharp contouring, metallic powder across your cheekbones and down your collarbone.

valis places a final piece on you: a headpiece like a crown, low and fierce. a brutal, elegant circlet of dark steel or iron, shaped like a blooming crown with jagged upward spikes, mimicking both a rose’s thorns and the carved stonework of district two.

“you’re not just from district two,” she says, fastening it. “you are district two. they’ll see you and remember why they’ll root for you.”

when you step out of the prep room, you see rafe across the hall. he looks like he’s been carved out of stone.

his stylist’s clearly coordinated with valis. the look is sharp, sculptural. thick, slate-gray armor plates molded over a fitted black base layer, like cracked stone pulled from a mountainside and reforged around his body. there's silver powder dusted into the creases, like light catching between bricks. his shoulders are draped with some idiotic black cape lined with marble-patterned fabric that sways just slightly when he moves.

he looks less like a boy and more like a statue brought to life.

your lips twitch, and he notices, takes his time dragging his eyes from your war crown down to the laced boots hugging your calves.

“nice crown,” he says, like he’s trying not to smile. “very queen-of-the-quarry.”

you arch an eyebrow. “nice cape. looks like something they pulled off an old memorial statue.”

“i was going for intimidating,” he deadpans. “you know, before we get turned into national entertainment.”

“i think we’re already that.”

he glances at the armor shaped tight to your ribs. “yours actually fits,” he mutters. “mine’s like walking around in a coffin.”

you tilt your head. “that’s because mine was made for a victor.”

he gives you a look for that. flat, unreadable. but there’s a glint in his eye you’re starting to recognize.

the dry amusement. the you’re just as annoying as i am, and i hate that i like it kind of look.

“you look like a funeral,” you say, nodding at his costume.

“you look like the reason there is one.”

you pause, slow grin. he breaks first, just a small exhale, a breath of something close to laughter. it's sharp and quiet and it doesn't last. but it’s there.

and that’s the problem. you don’t want to laugh with him. you don’t want to see him like this. not when you're both dressed like weapons, walking toward your own slaughter. and yet, you like it. more than you should.

valis claps once behind you, sharp like a whip crack. “positions!”

you climb into the chariot first. rafe follows.

your mentors are waiting nearby. brutus doesn’t say anything for a long time. just looks at the two of you like he’s seeing a dream come to life.

then finally: “if you die dressed like this, it’ll be the most expensive mistake the capitol’s ever made.”

enobaria grins wide, fangs flashing. “you’ll burn them down,” she says. “and look beautiful doing it.”

district 1 steps out before you, draped in diamonds, glinting like fire. they’re tall. smug. perfect.

but when you and rafe mount your chariot and the horses start to move, you can feel it already. there’s this roar rising before you even reach the avenue.

the horses pull forward, muscles rippling beneath their sleek coats, hooves clacking steady against the marble-like ground. you’ve seen this parade before, sure, through a screen. but nothing prepares you for the real thing.

the crowd is massive. oceans of color and sound. glittering costumes, faces painted in horrifying beauty, hands reaching up, voices screaming for names they don’t even know yet. and you, you're on that screen now. you’re one of them. you’re the face they’ll remember.

and you’ll give them something worth remembering.

you stand tall, head high. your shoulders are pushed back, chin lifted like you were born to be here. and in a way . . . maybe you were, born to bleed in front of them, born to make it look good.

rafe doesn’t say a word beside you. you don’t need him to. he stands just as tall, just as cold. the two of you balance the chariot like matching statues—his side, your side. equal presence, equal pride. he doesn’t lean in, doesn’t try to whisper. he knows better. right now, this is a game of image, and you both know how to play.

you see district one’s chariot just ahead, gold and jewels and arrogance, but hear the pitch of the crowd shift when yours rolls out. louder. more excited. more curious because there’s a kind of danger to the two of you that can’t be replicated with glitter.

district two doesn’t come to entertain. you’re here to conquer.

your costume shifts when you move, metal and leather catching the overhead lights. your headpiece is heavy, it presses down on your skull like a threat. but you keep it there like it’s second nature.

when the chariot turns the corner and the path begins to narrow, your gaze lifts, and there he is.

president snow.

standing tall atop his ivory platform, hands folded neatly in front of him, white rose pinned to his chest like an omen. he watches like a god. and you hate the way your chest tightens just looking at him.

it’s not awe. not fear, exactly. just that reminder that no matter how tall you stand, he still sees you as small.

your eyes flick sideways. rafe’s jaw is tight. his brows pulled just slightly, just enough for you to see it. he feels it too. but he doesn’t waver. and neither do you.

you nod, just once. it’s not warm. it’s not for comfort. it’s strategy. we don’t falter. not here. not in front of him.

and then, you feel it.

the shift. the slip.

a slight release of pressure from your crown before it clatters, sharp and metallic, against the chariot floor. it bounces once, then rolls to the edge. off. gone.

you don’t move. rafe doesn’t either, his posture iron beside you.

you don’t even look down. not a twitch. the crowd hasn’t noticed, not really. the cheers are too loud, the cameras too high up. but you saw the way the district three tributes flinched behind you, their eyes darting to the fallen headpiece like it was the first drop of blood in the arena.

they’re worried for you. maybe even pitying.

you feel heat crawl up your neck. not from shame. from rage.

you hate when people assume they should be afraid for you. like you can’t handle the weight of a crown. or a mistake. or a punishment.

you meet their gaze over your shoulder, cold, sharp, unblinking. mind your business.

and then you turn back to face the capitol like nothing ever happened. spine straight. chin high. head bare, but proud. the spiked crown left behind like a piece of armor you never needed in the first place.

the parade ends in a slow blur of heat and noise.

hands reach for you and rafe immediately, belonging to security, staff, some faceless intern pulling you both down from the chariot with quick, trained motions. the horses are led off. the chariot’s rolled away.

you’re still standing tall, armor stiff, head bare, skin humming with leftover adrenaline when you’re guided toward the group already waiting near the edge of the staging area.

valis stands front and center, perfectly composed. she spots you both, gaze flitting briefly to the empty space where your crown once sat, but she doesn’t say it. not directly.

“i’m sure someone’s already picked it up,” valis offers instead, her voice light, easy, like she’s talking about a misplaced bracelet instead of a political symbol. “it’ll be returned to your suite. no need to worry.”

you don’t answer. just raise a brow, lips parting slightly in that resting expression of yours that always seems like a threat in disguise.

beside her, enobaria steps forward, more practical in her approach, arms crossed but face impressed.

“you stood like killers,” she says, nodding with approval. “not scared. not too smug. like you belong in the arena already. the way you claimed your space . . . people will remember that.”

you glance briefly at rafe, who looks equally unimpressed. good.

“i told you they’d pull it off,” valis adds, half to enobaria, half to herself. “i knew they would.”

their escort pipes in with a sudden clap of her jeweled hands. she’s tall, with pale pink skin painted in shimmery swirls, lashes curled up like petals, and an updo stacked so high it nearly brushes the overhead lights. her name is cassaline, and she literally sparkles when she talks.

“this is so thrilling,” cassaline squeals, already guiding you both toward the elevators with her arms open like she might actually try to hug one of you. “i cannot wait to show you your floor! i know you’ve already seen the dining room but your bedrooms are simply to die for! and i know you’ve had such a long day but—oh—it’ll be quick, i promise! just a little peek and then you can sleep like champions.”

you almost laugh. like champions.

rafe walks beside you, quiet, his shoulder bumping yours lightly as you’re led further into the hall.

you feel brutus’s presence more than you see it. he’s behind you both, a wall of silence. but something makes you glance over your shoulder. and you catch it.

he’s not looking at you. he’s watching something over your shoulder, just past your line of sight.

your eyes flick past him, slow and casual, until you spot them. there are clumps of tributes lingering in small groups. district four, five, six. stylists, prep teams, mentors. they're laughing, murmuring, adjusting costumes. but their eyes?

their eyes are on you. not just glancing, but watching. a few lower their heads quickly, whispering. a few don’t even try to hide it. like maybe they expected something out of district two. and maybe now they know they were right to.

you hold their gaze for just long enough to make them uncomfortable. good.

then you look back at brutus. and finally up at rafe, who meets your glance like he’s been expecting it. like he saw it all, too.

“get me out of this,” you mutter, your voice low, clipped, directed at valis without even turning her way. “i want to lay down.”

@nicholaschavezslut69 @iissza @snowtargaryen @yootvi @ariiwritess @spideysimpossiblegirl @skyslowalking @adribarbie @obsessionsarenotfortheweak @0-tatiana-0 @beebeerockknot @rafestar @drewstarkeyzwhore @drewsephrry @annaconscience @writtenbyhollywood @yourtypicalteenagegirl @daisydark @v4mpscrms @issahruiz @ilovefictionallmenn @derpjungkook @vanessa-rafesgirl @sunny1616 @alphabetically-deranged @nrmlgirl @supercxnt @xoxosblogsblog @rafegetinmybed @siyahmoonlight @livie4lifestarkeyblyth

[gr4cier4cie]

♡ hometown glory (some things never change) ♡

or: george was your best friend. still is, if you're being honest with yourself. when your paths happen to cross by chance a decade after you last saw each other, it becomes harder and harder to deny that you really let him go. fem!childhood!bf!reader x george russell

warnings: would it be gracie without angst? NAH. thank you so so so much to @binisainz for being the reason i wrote for george XOXO!!

♡

you hear him before you see him. he's laughing when your eyes finally land, the sight of him cutting through the paddock like a perfectly-executed qualifying lap. and isn't that just so typical of george russell? always finding ways to wreck you when you least expect it, even after a decade of careful, practiced indifference. you kept your distance. he kept his. (well, you tried, anyway. worked for haas. then ferrari. a brief stint at aston martin. and now mercedes. it was chance, you reasoned. not fate.)

your feet move before your brain can catch up. (muscle memory, you'll tell yourself later. your body remembers the pull of him, the orbit of eyes you thought you'd left behind.) "george?"

his name feels foreign and familiar all at once, reminiscent of an old jumper left unworn. you watch his spine straighten (still terrible posture, some things never change), watch recognition ripple across his features like rain on a race track. and when he turns, when his eyes catch yours, you fight to breathe.

"bloody hell," he whispers, and oh–oh no, because his media smile is cracking open into something real, something that looks too much like the boy who used to climb through your window with contraband sweets and whispered dreams about a life on the track. "jesus. it's really you."

here is what no one told you about the passage of time: it's supposed to make things easier. smooth the rough edges of memories until everything feels distant and dull. but standing here, watching george's hands fidget like they used to before important races, as if he's fighting the urge to reach out to grasp your palm in his (like he used to), you feel every second of the last decade go up in smoke.

you both move forward. both stop short. because how do you greet someone who used to know every corner of your soul (and your home)? how do you greet a stranger?

you settle for a half-hug over his shoulder, reaching up to let your fingers sink into the hair at the nape of his neck. he feels the same. looks the same. sounds the same. how come, then, does everything feel so damn different? how come, then, does everything feel like it's changed?

"i watched your last race," you offer like you haven't watched every single one. like you don't still have his first karting trophy hidden in a box under your bed (the one he'd pressed into your hands with that crooked smile, insisting "it's lucky when you hold it, you know it is").

"yeah? how'd i do?" you are suddenly reminded of the way he used to practice podium speeches in your backyard during the summer months, begging you to pretend to interview him so someday, he'd be ready. "been a bit busy lately, haven't i?"

yes. yes, you have been. you laugh, but it's careful. cautious.

there are thousands of questions fighting to escape: do you still hate mushrooms? did you ever finish that book i lent you? do you ever think about that night before you left, when you looked at me like you'd miss me forever?

instead, what comes out is: "you sure have."

something flickers across his face then, something that makes your ribcage feel too small for your lungs. because this is george–your george–who used to know exactly how many sugars you took in your tea, who spent an entire summer helping you perfect your parallel parking. who promised he'd never forget you, right before he left for racing academy and disappeared from your life like smoke after a burnout.

"listen," he starts. "i've got this thing tonight, at the dorchester. terrible food. but maybe—"

"george!" a voice cuts through the moment like a safety car deployment. "five minute warning!"

he winces, and for a second, you see that little boy again, the one who always had somewhere else to be, someone else to become. who had dreams that touched the moon and back. "i have to—"

"go," you finish, because some habits are harder to break than others. "i know."

he takes a step backward, then stops. reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. "your number," he says, not quite a question. "is it still—?"

"i changed it," you reply, and watch his face fall just slightly. awareness dawns. (you're not the same as you were.) "but i'm sure you can find me. you always could."

it's only after he's gone, swallowed by the crowd and his obligations, that you realize you're shaking. because george russell still smells like lazy sunday mornings and all of his goddamn broken promises, and you're suddenly, terrifyingly certain that you never actually learned how to exist in a world where you're not in love with him.

oh, how the time flies.

♡

here's the thing about press conferences at the dorchester: george has done exactly thirty-seven of them. he knows this because he counts them now, uses them to mark time like tire compounds or engine modes or the number of times he almost called you over the years (hundreds, not that he's keeping track).

tonight makes thirty-eight, and he can't focus on a single bloody word.

"—your thoughts on the upcoming race weekend, george?"

he blinks at the sky sports microphone suddenly in his face. tries to remember how to string words together.

(because you're still here. still real. still... his. how is he supposed to think about track conditions when all he can think about is the way you'd stopped short of hugging him, like you weren't sure you had the right anymore? like you didn't know him?)

"the track conditions are..." he starts, then loses the thread completely. because his brain is stuck on replay: the way you'd said his name, soft and uncertain and achingly familiar. the way you'd looked at him like he was simultaneously the boy you used to know and a stranger wearing his face. words simply tasted like ash in his mouth.

toto shoots him a concerned look from the corner, the same look he gives when george takes a corner too hot, when he pushes the car past its limits, when he risks everything for one perfect moment.

"sorry," he manages, with a self-deprecating laugh that sounds hollow even to his own ears. "bit knackered from quali. the track conditions are looking promising, and mercedes has put in some brilliant work on the car."

somewhere in london, you're probably going about your evening, and he doesn't know what you do, where you live, if you still drink that horrible peach tea you used to love. doesn't know if you're seeing someone, if you're happy, if you think about him even half as much as he thinks about you.

that's a lie.

he knows exactly what you do–saw it on linkedin during one of those nights, when the weight of missed chances felt heavier than marble on his chest. senior engineering project manager. of course you are.

"—about your rivalry with max this season?"

christ, he's zoning out again. (he'd stalked your instagram, too, when it got really unbearable. had seen you in one of his old hats, in a post buried in your tagged photos from silverstone a few years ago. you didn't know how he'd searched the crowd that day, aching for a sight of you.)

"george." toto's voice cut in, his hand on george's shoulder breaking his reverie. "i think that's enough questions for tonight, yes?"

he pulls out his phone back in his driver's room before he can think better of it. your old number is still in his contacts, and he hovers a thumb over it, gritting his teeth.

but i'm sure you can find me. you always could.

it takes him exactly three minutes to find your current number. (being a formula one driver has its perks, and having a very efficient personal assistant is one of them.) he stares at it for so long the screen dims, brightens, then dims again.

his hands are shaking as he types. (this is somehow harder than threading the needle between two cars at 200 miles per hour.)

Do you still take your tea with four sugars?

you respond within seconds.

No. It's six now. But I'd be willing to revisit four.

he actually laughs out loud. tries to keep from finding the nearest toilet and flushing his phone down it.

Breakfast this weekend?

the three dots taunt him for a minute. then two. then three. then:

Only if you're paying.

it is terrifying, how easy it is to fall back into old patterns with you. how easy you have made it. but he is smiling when he clicks send.

Deal. See you soon. Missed you.

you heart the message. then, minutes later, respond only with:

Missed you too.

♡

mayfair isn't foreign to you.

you know its streets like you know your own heartbeat. know which galleries on mount street will let you wander for hours without buying anything you can't afford. know which bakeries have the best pastries, which corners of the layout catch the morning sun, which benches in berkeley square are perfect for people-watching.

but seeing george russell sitting in your favorite café at a table near the window, leg bouncing under the table, is foreign. new.

your breath catches in your throat. (how are you supposed to handle this? handle him? how are you supposed to walk in there and pretend that ten years ago, george russell didn't know every corner of your soul?) you could simply turn around. could text some excuse about traffic, or a meeting, or—

he looks up.

you go in.

"you're early," you say, sliding into the seat across from him, lips quirking upward. "that's new." your eyes catch on his lips as they widen; he is sharp where he used to be soft, all media smiles and crisp white collars. you force your hands to steady. (you're too fond of his instagram nowadays, scrolling through picture after picture until your eyes cross. dinners with people you don't recognize. races won, races lost. women of his past with their arms wrapped around his neck. that last one always makes you cry.)

he rolls his eyes, but there's something soft in it. something knowing. "and you're perfectly on time. that's not."

the waiter arrives, saving you from having to answer. george orders an omelet without mushrooms, and something in your chest clenches. "still hate them, then?" you ask, tilting your head. "mushrooms?"

"some things never change," he says softly.

you take a deliberate sip of your tea to avoid his eyes. (he'd ordered you four sugars. of course.) "like what?"

his fingers tap against the table. one-two-three, one-two-three, like he's counting lap times or measuring the distance between then and now. between decades. "like you."

(you're aware that george russell calculates everything. brake points and racing lines and the exact pressure needed to make a car dance on the edge of control. well, everything except the way he could have called you 520 times had he only picked up the phone once a damn week.)

"i'm not..." you start, then stop, swallowing hard. "i'm not the same."

his smile is soft. knowing. "aren't you?" you're suddenly all the more aware of the way his ice-blue gaze trails across your face, your neck, the line of your shoulders.

"i mean," you continue, lacking conviction. "i moved out of king lynn."

"your parents still live there, don't they?" george cuts in, crooking a brow. "how's your mum?"

you shrug, lifting your cup to your mouth. "she's... good. fine." she misses you, is what you didn't say. she was there for me when you left and all of a sudden life felt empty without you. she asks me about you, even now, despite the fact that we don't talk. she's still insistent on the idea that i'll be your wife, someday. "and yours?"

george huffs. "hasn't changed since you saw her last." it is strangely comforting, for him to act like ten years is nothing more than a weekend away. "she asks about you more than she asks about me, actually."

you choke, flinching. "what do you tell her?"

he looks away, caught. "usually just change the subject." his fingers resume their tapping, and you fight the urge to shadow his palms with yours, touch him for the hell of it. "are you..." he inhales sharply. "are you seeing anyone?"

you look up, startled by the change in his tone. "no."

"why?" (it's so like him, to demand explanations, wanting to know everything and anything.)

"i just can't. right now." the words fall like something breaking, like a confession you hadn't exactly meant to let loose. "there's a lot. with work, i mean. you would know."

his nod is slow. you could fool yourself into believing it is understanding if it wasn't for the slight narrowing of his eyes, the furrow of his brow. "i remember you saying london was the city of love."

that's only because you were in it, you want to scream. "that's paris," you chuckle, stirring another sugar cube into your tea. "besides, it's not... the right time for me. i haven't even been with anyone since—" oh, god.

he stares at you for a beat too long, fingers curling around his coffee cup like it's the only thing anchoring him to his seat. "do you ever think about it? that night?"

you blink once. then twice. debate not answering. "which one?"

he breathes out a laugh—soft and hollow and almost fond. fond of you. “you know which one.”

(the creak of your bedroom window as he climbed in, shoes toed off at the foot of your bed. the way you sat up, cross-legged, knees touching his as he sat beside you. your fingers in his hair while he confessed he was scared he'd never make it in the junior team all alone, that he wasn't good enough, that he'd miss you more than he thought he could miss anything. your lips brushing his, his hands trembling on your bare waist, the sunrise bleeding through your curtains as he pulled you into his chest. intimacy you let him have. a moment you let him keep. he left before your mum woke up and never came home.)

you look away. suddenly your eyes sting, and you actively steady your breath. "we were kids, george. it didn’t mean anything.”

he stiffens. his voice is quiet when he says, “it did.” then again, louder, like maybe if he says it twice it’ll matter more. “it meant everything to me.”

your answering smile holds no warmth. “but you didn’t call.”

he doesn't answer right away. just looks at you like he's seeing you again for the first time. as if you're fine art he once knew by heart, now dusted off and hung in a new gallery. it would have been easier, if he were heartless. cold.

"i was a coward," he says finally. "i thought if i stayed away from you, it would hurt less. the leaving."

you drop your eyes to the table. "yeah, well. it hurt like hell for me." he leans forward—to do what, you're not sure. to grab your hand? to press his forehead to yours like he had done when you were both nineteen, and young, and stupid, and desperately in love?

"let me make it up to you." his voice is broken. "please."

you can't bring yourself to look at him. "you can’t just—" you swallow hard. "george. you can’t just show up after a decade and expect a do-over. it's... done."

his eyes flicker down to your mouth and back up again. "don’t give me a do-over," he says, pleading. "give me a moment."

he leans across the table.

you don't stop him. not this time.

his lips are soft and sure against yours—tasting of regret and honeyed tea, ten years too late and somehow right on time. your fingers curl around the edge of the table, unable to give yourself the permission to hold him. that is, until he reaches forward and pries your white knuckles from the edge and interlaces your fingers with his. (for a second, just a second, it feels like forever.)

"some things," george whispers against your skin as you pull away, gripping the collar of his shirt for dear life, "never change."

for once, you think he might be right.

♡

note: goddamn WHY HAVE I WAITED SO LONG TO WRITE FOR GEORGE THIS WAS SO FUN i adore this concept hehe please let me know if you'd like to see childhoodbf!reader with any of the other drivers!! i also think imma keep this as a oneshot so this is where the story ends for these two!! MWAH as always!!

[familyagrestefanblog]

Sorry for making yet another post about it, but I just REALLY love that they included the mystery of whether Aglae is Cerise or not, right in episode 1. With it being the same voice actress in French, but that in itself isn't a give away because Kagami, for example, shares the same voice actress, too.

But what I TRULY love about this is that it finally gives us a narrative justification for suddenly hiding away Cerise's face even though we've seen her since season 1. That has bothered me the entire time, but now with Aglae (even if she's not Cerise) I can work with this again. Cause another thing this mystery now does well is taking advantage of the new art style.

Yes, we know what Cerise looked like in the OLD art style, but we can't 100% say what her face looks like NOW, especially in the 10.000 disguises she has.

The biggest clue we have by now is that she still has the same short brown hair we saw her have at the end of season 5, which I always took as confirmation that thats how she truly looks like, since we saw her put contact lenses on her brown eyes (which you can't do when you're already wearing contact lenses), and especially because the short brown hair was the only time her hair color actually matched her eye brows.

Especially the eye brows were alongside her long (claw-like) nails the thing I thought they would now use as consistent hints for her being disguised, but I'm honestly not sure anymore since we already saw up-close in episode 2 that Cerise doesn't have her claw nails anymore in the new model (which is a shame cause I loved that detail)

BUT THEN we can kinda gather what clothes Cerise wears as her "real self", and they do go well with Aglae's style and especially the purple and dark color scheme.

Which is yet another thing with two possible explanations: Aglae IS Cerise and this was an easy enough disguise to catch in episode 1, or Aglae is NOT Cerise and her inclusion is meant to tell us design and voice wise to not go with the easiest assumptions. Both are equally valid ways for the show to take this.

I just REALLY love this right now, okay? I missed having this much fun with one of the show's mysteries.

[rottenbologna]

A Shift in Rhythm

Pairings ~ Mariona Caldentey x reader

Genre ~ angst

Summary ~ Mariona gets a little too comfortable

Mariona was used to it. The rhythm you both had; she would go out and play the best football she could while you did..pretty much everything else. Every morning Mariona's coffee would be brewed the way she liked it, breakfast prepared, fresh kit, clean boots and kit bag packed and layed out for her to go. Laundry was always done and put away, the house always clean and tidy and a hot meal always set out for her return home.Mariona never had to ask y/n always went out of her way to make her girl’s life easier and without even realizing mariona began to expect it.

So when she came home after a particularly rough training session to find all the lights in the house off, laundry basket thrown recklessly in the living room, ingredients on the kitchen counter, dinner not prepared. Mariona’s anger increased tenfold.

“y/n” she hissed out after tripping on the cord of the vacuum left out in the hallway. She got no response and that only added to her already burning anger. The brunette walked to your shared bedroom to find you in bed but completely missed the way your breaths came out in wheezes and the way your body shakes even though you were covered in three layers of blankets.

Mariona frowned. “You didn’t cook and the house is a mess y/n and you’re in here sleeping?’

Your body jumps in shock not hearing your girlfriend come in. you sit up with flushed cheeks and messy hair something out of character for you but if mariona noticed she didn't acknowledge it too routed in her irritation.

“I’ve been sick all day. I can barely move mari.” you stated still confused from your rude awakening.

“I had a long day y/n the least i was expecting was a clean house and food on the table” your girlfriend snapped carelessly kicking off her boots and throwing her kit top somewhere in the room carelessly. “You could have ordered me something or even text me so i could something up”

“You think I didn't want to? Mariona i'm burning up and i can barely breathe” y/n stared at the older girl in disbelief.

“I dont give a fuck about that right now y/n im exhaustted and hungry. I work hard and the least you could do is have something ready to eat when I get home” the older girl snapped back.

The room goes silent, the words from your girlfriend cut deep. The truth was that you had a job as well. Nothing flashy like being world champion or a ballon d’or nominee but it was a job, the pay was decent and can be demanding but still you always put your own exhaustion aside because you wanted to be a bit of calm in the chaos of lengthy football matches and media duties that your girlfriend lives in and to have her blatantly take that for granted to hurt you. Your eyes burned from the tears forming as you got up on shaky legs to pack an overnight bag.

Mariona’s eye widen as she observed you for the first time since she got home her irritation quickly replaced with guilt and worry as she finally took the time to hear the way your breath came out in short wheezes and how you struggled to move around while tossing clothes in the bag she reached out to help you sit on the bed but you slapped her hand away weakly and continued packing

“Wait cari please…what are you doing? Mariona panicked

“I'm going to stay with Alessia for a few days.” you mumbled not having the strength to go an octave higher.

Mariona wanted to plead with you to stay, but you already left closing the door quietly behind you, leaving her to sit in the silence and her guilt.

[writtendaydreamm]

The On-Call Room

Summary: Y/n and Langdon try to get some rest in the same on-call room but get a little distracted.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, Smut if you squint

Author's Note: Based on this request. Sort of a prequel to The Hospital Gossip Mill. The two of them in an on-call room, I had to sprinkle in a little smut! I haven't written smut in a while though so bear with me lol

Two loud knocks was all it took and Langdon was wide awake. 

Already in a shitty mood having to pull a double today, all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Was that too much to ask? To get just a little bit of sleep in before having to go through another eight hours in the pit. 

Looking down at his watch, he groaned. By now he would’ve been at home, probably getting ready for dinner plans with Y/n. But instead, he was here. At the hospital. Where he has been since 8AM. All because of that nasty bug going around. Already short-staffed, it was one sick call after the next this past week. From doctors, to nurses, to admins - everyone was catching it. One of the few left standing, Langdon took one for the team, staying back to cover Dr. Ellis on the night shift. 

Throwing his legs over the stiff, sorry excuse for a bed the hospital furnished the on-call rooms with, Langdon walked up to the door grumbling to himself. This better be an emergency otherwise someone was about to get ripped a new one. He wrote it clearly on the whiteboard outside: 

DON'T KNOCK, CALL IF URGENT 

Can people not read? Brows furrowed tightly, Langdon yanked the door open wide, raring and ready to unleash the string of profanities on the tip of his tongue until he saw who was in front of him. Y/n.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she teased, walking straight past him before he could even get a word out. 

Sticking his head out scanning the halls, he was relieved to see they were empty. No one at work had a clue they were dating and they intended to keep it that way.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be home by now?” he asked trying not to sound too annoyed as he locked the door behind him. 

Yeah, she should have been. The last surgery on her schedule today was a simple hernia repair. It wouldn’t have taken more than an hour. But the patient’s stubborn mother decided to ignore the explicit directions not to feed her 24-year-old man-child any food while he waited for an OR to open up. Now the 20 minute wait for an OR turned into a 6 hour wait for the casserole to digest. 

“I don’t know how she snuck that Tupperware past the nurses,” Y/n snorted, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Looks like we’re both in for a long night.”

Leaning into her touch despite himself, Langdon’s eyes closed instinctively. The feeling of her thumb agaisnt that sensitive spot on the nape of his neck transported him back to the night before. How her fingers brushed against that exact spot, how they worked down his back, the welcomed burn of her nails as they scratched against his skin, the sound of her gasps in his ear as he-

Snap out of it, he told himself. Now was not the time for dirty thoughts about what they did last night. What he needed was to go lay down, not get worked up. Clearing his throat and his mind, he focused on the present.

“The on-call rooms full up there?” 

She nodded. They always were. About to slum it on one of the sofas in the surgical staff lounge, she remembered one of the last texts he sent her:

ED lounge is empty and lonely. 

Wish you were here 

Well, here she was. Wish granted. Sure, it was risky sneaking onto the ED floor. If someone saw her that would’ve been the start of a new rumor for sure. It would’ve spread around the hospital faster than that bug everyone was sick with. But he said it himself, no one was around. And with their dinner plans obviously canceled, this way they can squeeze in more time together. Even if it was spent just napping. 

“You don’t mind, right?” she pouted, looking up at him, willing him to forgive her for waking him up like she had. Batting her lashes, her thumb brushing that spot on his neck that had him like putty in her hands. 

He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t that he minded. It was that he was concerned about getting some actual sleep. He wanted to get at least an hour in before having to go back onto the floor. But two of them, confined in a tiny room with basically nothing but a bed, getting sleep was low on the list of things they could get up to in here. 

What was he supposed to do though? Kick her out? Tell her no? He couldn’t. Even when he really wanted to, even when it was the right thing to do, even when she got on his damn nerves - like just now, blatantly ignoring the sign he wrote on the door - he could never say no to her. 

They managed to fit on the small bed slotting into one another like puzzle pieces. It was a tight fit considering these beds were made for one, but neither of them minded. The sheets were scratchy and the pillow paper thin, but with her back against him, his arm draped over her, it was actually kind of cozy. 

After promising no funny business, the room was silent save for the AC burring and their steady breaths. 

Finally dozing off, Langdon suddenly tensed, feeling Y/n shuffle in his arms. Her hips backed into him. It was only slightly but it was right against the one part of his body he had no control over. Assuming it was a one-off, he shuffled himself back a little to create some needed distance between them. But she did it again, just moments after.

Here we go, he groaned to himself. Just what he was afraid of. They were supposed to be sleeping with each other. Not sleeping with each other. 

He wasn’t going to react. Nope. He wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of a reaction, of knowing the effect she had on him. 

Summoning his will power, he fought against his body’s natural, primal response to her body moving against his. It wasn’t easy. Not only did she consume his physical senses, but she consumed his mind as well. Every thought was of her. Memories of her pretty face contorted in pleasure, her bare skin meeting his, her smart mouth stuffed full of him, all glued to the forefront of his mind.

He forced himself to think about that gross bleeder he cauterized this morning and that biker in South 2 with his leg bent out of shape waiting for Ortho, but it did nothing. How could it when with each passing second her movements became more brazen and shameless. Each roll of her hips grating on his self control.

“Y/n, stop,” he warned.

“Stop what?” she mumbled, playing innocent. But there was nothing innocent about what she was doing, the way she grinned her ass into him. It was deliberate and debilitating. 

“You promised,” he scolded. But there was no conviction in his voice. Or in the way he gripped her hips, a vain attempt to stop her before they went too far, before he couldn’t hold himself back. 

“I can’t help myself,” she whispered in a whine. Her hand moved behind her, palming him over his scrubs. Pleased at how hard he had gotten already, she chuckled. “Seems like neither can you.”

Whatever was left of his fragile resolve crumbled under her touch. His body had betrayed him totally. Fuck it, he thought. He was only human after all. Once again unable to say no, he surrendered to her whim for the second time that night. Placing feather light kisses on her neck, he indulged himself in the feeling of her hand stroking him slowly, sensually. Up and down, up and down. It was just enough pressure to offer relief but not enough to satisfy.

“Y/n,” he said again. This time less like a warning and more like a plea. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Good thing I’m a doctor,” she smirked.

“Smartass,” he murmured against her skin. 

No longer fighting his own need for her, his fingers dipped under her scrub pants. Her gasp was quiet and small, but unmistakable as his warm fingers pressed against the growing damp spot on her lacy panties. Feeling just how wet she was already, he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck whispering against her skin. 

“This you wanted, huh?” 

Reveling in the sensation of his five o’clock shadow grazing against her skin, of his fingers sliding her panties to the side and slipping between her slick folds, she could only hum in agreement. 

That wasn’t good enough. No, he wanted to hear her say it. 

“Use your words, baby,” he demanded, his middle finger teasing her entrance.

Oh, she loved it when he got like this. All controlling and assertive. The tension in her core tightened. She pulsed against his finger in anticipation. About to speak up, to tell him this was exactly what she wanted, a loud beeping and buzzing beat her to it. 

“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed louder than he should have. Throwing his head back on the pillow in exasperation, he couldn’t believe his luck. Of course his phone would be going off at this exact moment. 

The sound of Y/n’s laughter filled the room as he answered it. A finger held up to his lips, urgently gesturing her to quiet down. Not just because they could pick it up on the other end, but the way she was laughing they could probably hear her through the walls out in the hallway. Hand taped over her mouth she muffled her laughter as best she could, but this was just too good. A call right as they’re about to really get things started, right when he finally gave in? It wasn’t fair at all, but it was damn funny. 

Langdon was not nearly as amused by all this as she was. Not amused at all actually. The look he gave her as pointed as a knife’s tip. She knew just how to dull that sharpness though. Running a soothing hand up his back, fingers gently massaging the back of his neck, ensuring to touch that sensitive spot again.

The only thing Langdon found more upsetting than getting called back down to the floor early was how easily he folded for her. He was wrapped around her finger, and even worse, she knew it. Dragging a hand over his face, hoping to wipe away his fatigue and frustrations, he let out a deep sigh rising from the bed. They needed an extra set of hands down there, and as shitty as he felt, the patients down there felt a whole lot shittier. 

In the middle of adjusting his scrub pants, trying to conceal the hard-on that hadn’t gone down yet, he paused, confused as to why Y/n was getting out of the bed too. It wasn’t common practice to use other departments’ on-call rooms, but there weren’t any rules forbidding it. “You can stay y’know.”

“I know, but I should go back up anyway. Make sure my patient’s mom isn’t feeding him any more casserole,” she said, only-half joking. “Besides, I’m all strung up after that. No way I’m falling asleep now.” 

He shook his head, a smile creeping on his face as he watched her fix her own clothes. She was nothing but trouble, but she was all his trouble. As she turned towards the door, he grabbed her arm whipping her back around and into him. Face to face, chest to chest, he leaned in taking her by surprise for a change. The kiss was hot and hurried, leaving them both wanting for more. 

“Meet you back here after that hernia repair?” he suggested.

Y/n nodded excitedly, “Definitely.”

High off each other, the pair stepped out into the hallway without so much as a second thought. In hindsight they should’ve checked to make sure no one was around, or maybe not walked out at the exact same time. For two people trying to keep their relationship a secret, it was a quite careless thing to do. But it was what they did. And now they had to convince Perlah, who was out in the hallway brows raised in surprise, that there was a totally normal explanation to what she just saw.

“I was just looking for an empty on-call room,” Y/n said, beginning to explain the situation to Perlah. The way she worded it made sense. The on-call rooms up in surgery were full, so she ended up here only to find Langdon already inside the room.

But Perlah did the math in her head and it wasn’t adding up. If Y/n came down to crash in an open room, and Langdon was using the room but is heading back to the ER now, why wasn’t Y/n staying in the room then?

“If he’s leaving, why are you leaving?” she questioned Y/n skeptically.

“Well I just got a call to check on my patient,” y/n answered back smoothly. Not a total lie but definitely not the whole truth. 

“Yeah she got the call exactly the same time I got called back,” Langdon added trying to really sell the idea this was all just some big coincidence and nothing more.

Perlah eyed them both suspiciously, not completely sold on the BS they were throwing at her. But like Langdon, she was working a double too, and didn’t have any extra energy to waste. So, she ignored her inner tsismosa urging her to keep digging for details, and let it slide this time. She left them in the hall, heading into the storage closet across the on-call room, grabbing whatever it was she came down here for in the first place.

Langdon and Y/n exchanged uneasy looks. Worry settling in the pit of their stomachs. Was this it? Had they been caught?

“Do you think she bought it,” Langdon mouthed, barely above a whisper.

Y/n could only shrug and pray that she did.  “Let’s hope so.”

[mrsmnsn]

do you want to know a secret? -eddie munson

summary: In a party, Eddie had a important secret to share with you.

w: this story is a fluff; fem!readerXeddie, drunk!eddie (the poor boy is just needy), it is a very short story (maybe a bit shitty).. let me know if there’s something more :)

an: I had this draft for a while now and i just love it very much. i can help it, i’m a simp for teeth rotting fluff. (yes if you’re wondering, i made this short fic based on a song by the beatles.)

All of your friends were heading to a party, of which you didn’t know the owner. Steve was the one who encouraged everyone. “I know the weekend is short to recover from a party, but please, i just feel like we never had nights like that anymore. To just fool around…”. His speech went on and on but apparently it worked. So you got ready with Robin and later Steve would pick you up with Eddie. Steve spent the whole drive talking about the girl he was going to meet there.

“So that’s the reason why you kept bugging us to go? So you can meet up with some girl?” Robin asked as Steve parked the car “Jeez Stevie, I didn’t know you were that dry, cant even call a girl for a private date…” Robin kept mumbling and that earned her a bitchy look from Steve. They walked towards the house and continued teasing each other.

“What about you Eddie, what did Steve promised you to convince you to come?” You asked giggling “If he promised you a date with a girl, it’s all bullshit! I saw him doing it before, it’s his little scheme to make you follow him.”

He laughed at what you said and kept walking towards the house. "Actually, he didn't promise me anything. I just asked if I could bring my friends, you know? God knows how much they need to socialize with real people!" You laugh with him. Really, you didn't imagine that nerds would have a very hectic social life. "They're either in there scaring everyone or they're already on the fourth girl of the night!"

“I bet that Gareth is following that same girl he fell in love with at the mall the other day.” You say extending your hand before getting in. He looked at you and clasped your hands together, closing the deal, and pushed you in.

The thing was that you and eddie were friends for a quite some time now and it couldn’t be any different, or more cliche, but you fell for him. He didn’t help though. Always being the best friend he could be, helping you in every way possible, not to count how gentle he was, how smart, how handsome… It was inevitable. You actually tried to make a move a couple of times.

The first time you were at lover’s lake. You went there to hang out because it was too hot to stay inside the trailer. Eddie was smoking a joint and was doodling some things in his notebook. The golden light of the sunset was reflecting on his face and hair, making him shine even more. You were suddenly very close to each other and impulsively you approached and kissed him on the cheek. At first he had no reaction, he just looked at you. Of course you immediately regretted it and soon changed the subject and asked him to take you back to your house.

The second time it was a bit more intense. It was a campaign day and to celebrate the group's victory everyone started drinking the beers that Jeff had managed to get from his dad and the ones Eddie had bought. Eventually everyone left and you stayed to help your friend clean the place that was dirty with beer bottles scattered on the floor. You were already bubbly, laughing at everything and feeling light. Until you leaned on the table in the center of the room to talk. You are not very sure how the conversation took this turn, but you started talking about your romantic lives and Eddie was telling you about some past romances. You made fun of each other, talked about your current situation and again he had approached in a way in which you had no way to escape. It was like a charm. In a matter of seconds you grabbed him by the neck and kissed him fervently. He returned the kiss pressing you against the table. You kissed each other for a while until you returned to sobriety and all that courage completely disappeared from your body. "we are drinking, we shouldn't be doing this in this state of vulnerability" you told him trying to convince yourself that you should not proceed. You shouldn't take advantage of a drunk friend.

You decided not to talk about this kiss with anyone! You didn't even tell Robin about it. You didn't want the subject to just fade out. But that would mean having to confess to Eddie that you were completely in love with him.

Anyway, you entered the house, which was full of horny teenagers drinking without caring too much about the consequences. So you just mixed in, taking a bottle of beer from the kitchen.

Time went by and you managed to sit on the free sofa in the living room. The combination of an empty stomach and many beers was not a very good idea. You hadn't had many beers, trying to be the most aware of them thinking about having to drive back home, but Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Robin (Steve was probably getting laid in some room on the house because you never saw him again.) were playing their own style of beer pong with bottle caps. Eddie was completely thrown on top of you. His head was on your shoulder, his left arm on top of your lap and his leg was intertwined with yours. Well, Eddie never understood very well the matters of personal space, but that was too much even for him. They probably went out because they went from playing and laughing to be in complete silence.

“Are you ok there? Still alive?” You asked not looking at him, just resting your head on his. He let out a grown when you did that. “Sorry, heavy head.”

“No no, not that… you can stay.” Eddie said, the words coming out kinda dragged from his mouth. “Actually can i tell you something that’s on my head now?” When he spoke you could smell the strong sent of beer. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“What is it?” I asked, caressing his arm that was resting on my lap.

“Do you promise not to tell anyone? Cause is a very important secret!” He lifted his head to make sure you understood how important that was.

“I won’t tell anyone Eddie, i promise!” I said giggling a little but he believed in me.

“I believe in you. Alright come closer, let me whisper to you.” You sat a bit straighter and he approached you, close to your ear so he could whisper. “I am completely immensely desperately crazy head over heels in love with you sweetheart.”

His drunk but sincere words seemed to be echoing in your head. Now you were the one getting dizzy. It just stuck there and you got paralyzed, leaving him in silence too, now with his head back on your shoulder. Eddie? In love with me? how many beers he fucking had?

You looked around to see if someone was looking, but they didn’t seem to notice what was happening there. You were combusting, not knowing what to do. “Sorry I scared ya… I had to let it out, I-I mean it, though. It’s just stuck up there in my head and my chest and if i didn’t say anything i would probably barf…. sorry, thats so not romantic-“

“Eddie… that happened before, remember? Where the booze takes us to a place we shouldn’t. We definitely shouldn’t drink beer anymore” You cut him, in disbelief.

“How could i forget? I constantly think about that kiss.”

You made him look at you. His face was a bit tired, his eyes kind of heavy with booze and sleep.

“And that time in the van, you know… you kissed my cheek. I guess i figured I loved you there.” As those words left his mouth so did the memories, flooding your mind with flashbacks from that day.

“Eddie, love is a very strong and meaningful word!” You speak highly above a whisper. “It’s serious business.”

“And you think I don’t know that?” He adjusted himself in his seat to look better at you. “I might be drunk, but have you ever heard that phrase ‘drunk actions are sober thoughts’? I mean it. This is not a joke, it is true and i need you to believe in me!” His pleading eyes were looking at you now, almost crying.

“Eddie, I do, I believe in you! Please d-don’t cry.” You say cupping his cheek. “I just said that because i don’t want you to say all those things and regret later. Because i’ll believe in them and in you. Why do you think i made those ‘moves’ before? I’m also in love with you!”

His eyes teared up anyway and he smiled. “Uh, it’s so nice hearing that, isn’t it?” He said and that made you giggle with him. “Can we go home so I can sober up and say all that again over and over to you!”

“Yes, we can!” You take his hand that was pressing your waist and you give it a kiss, then pressing it against your warm skin. “That was a beautiful secret Eddie!”

“Not as beautiful as you” He kissed your other cheek, pressing them.

You blush at his comment. “Ok, before all this cute thing starts, i’m just going to warn Steve we’re going and-“You finish your sentence before when you see Steve coming up to you a bit annoyed.

“Next time, make me remember to really evaluate all my options, deal?!” He said in a hushed tone.

“What happened Steve? What about that-“ He cuts you again before you could understand.

“I really don’t want to talk about this, i’m going to drink something” The moment he turn away from you and Eddie he saw Gareth on the couch, but there was something unexpected, the girl he was kind of stalking on the mall almost straddling his lap and they’re sharing a heated kiss while Jeff and Robin run away from there. “OH COME ON MAN! EVEN THE NERDS!”

[justmeinadaze]

Hi darling.🥰 if you open for request, can you do blurb or short OneShot. I really want to comfort by Eddie 🥺

I always so scared to ask any questions to my abusive father, everytime I asked and he so easily pissed off, yelling at me, he never hit me, just words hurt. So I stop ask any men, it scared me. Wondering if reader scared to ask Eddie too, to think if he’s the same as the father.

Thanks so much ❤️

A/N: I gotchu, angel. ;) I hope you like it!

Warnings: Brief mentions of verbal abuse (as mentioned above in the request), the lightest of the light smut (like 2 sentences), Just Eddie being Eddie <3

You never realize how many questions one asks in a relationship until you’re too afraid to ask them. 

What’s your favorite movie? What’s your favorite color? Do you get along with your parents? How did you and your best friend meet? 

Hell, even a simple “How are you today?”, can cause that anxiety to bubble up when you grew up in an abusive household. Any question was met with hostility and you carried that with you into your adulthood. Many relationships had come and gone because either your partner couldn’t understand or just thought you genuinely didn’t care because you didn’t probe too hard into their life. 

Eddie was different. 

When you met Eddie Munson, you liked him right away especially with his outgoing charismatic personality. Oddly enough, for a while, you never had to ask any questions because any information about him he spilled willingly like word vomit as he bounced from topic to topic. 

The metalhead didn’t even notice you never asked questions until Steve absently pointed it out one day. 

“Have you told her about your dad yet? I know some girls in your past had an opinion about that.”

“Um, no I haven’t and come to think of it…I don’t think she’s actually asked about my parents.”

Teachers always said he struggled to pay attention but that wasn’t true. Eddie paid attention when he cared about something and he definitely cared about you. 

He began watching you when you spoke with your friends. Any question you had, even if it was about a boy directly in front of you, you would ask your friend instead. 

“You two are so cute together. How did you meet? He got you that necklace. I love it! Do you know where he got it from? I know Jack’s birthday is coming up, what kind of food does he like?”

It was incredibly subtle and could be glossed over by any casual observer but then he noticed you did it when he took you out on dates. If you had a male server at the restaurant, your eyes would remain downcast as you mumbled what you wanted. 

“Baby, I thought you didn’t like tomatoes? Can you remove those from her sandwich please?”

“Oh yeah! Of course, not a problem!”

He even tested you once, purchasing tickets to a concert without telling you who you were going to see. 

“Alright, sweetheart, Friday night, 9pm, best concert ever!”

“Oh my God that sounds amazing!”, you giggle as you run to give him a hug.

“Wait, wait, don’t you want to know who we’re going to see?”

“I imagine any tickets you got have awesome bands on stage. I trust you, Eddie.”

It began to bother him but not in the same way it did your exes in the past. He believed you trusted him but trust and communication were two different things. He didn’t want you to just do something because he wanted to or for you to be uncomfortable just to please him. 

As some time passed, he began to pick up on your little tells; little quarks that told him you had something to ask but were too afraid to do so.

One day while the two of you were hanging out in his room, he noticed your eyes roam the journal he had been sketching campaigns in as your eyebrows furrowed but when he turned to look at you all you did was softly smile. 

He blinked as he silently counted to five as his eyes searched your features before smiling back. 

“I’m, um, working on this campaign for D&D and I don’t know what paths I should use to kick Dustin’s ass.”, Eddie jokes as you laugh. “What do you think, honey? Do you know anything about Dungeons and Dragons?”

“I know you’re a master at it.”

“That’s for damn sure.”, he grins as he scoots closer to you. “In Dungeons and Dragons, you have to…”

Eddie spent hours explaining the game and breaking down his plans as he watched your eyes light up with wonder. 

During a double date with Steve and Nancy, they suggested going to lover’s lake for a nightly swim and a low hum only the metalhead heard had him whispering if you were sure that was something you wanted to do. 

When you confirmed and they got to their destination both his friends jumped in without hesitation as he watched you from behind. You removed your clothes sans bra and panties without even pausing but it wasn’t until you got to the edge of the water that you stopped. 

“Are you alright? Afraid of the lake?”

“No, um, no…I just I don’t know how to swim.”

“Oh, well that’s ok, baby because you’re looking at a swim champ. Way better than Harrington.”

“LIAR!”, Steve shouts, all four of you laughing when Eddie twists his arm to flip him off. 

Those beautiful chocolate eyes take in the way your gaze shifts into the void as you hug your arms around your frame. 

He silently counts. 

“Would you like me to teach you how to swim?” Your eyes light up as relief floods your face and you run into his arms. “I gotcha, Y/N.”

Now, intimacy was something he wanted to be extra careful with. Your tells were different in the bedroom but he caught on quick. The way your body and even breath responded to him changed when you were vocal. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good.”, he mewled as your nails dug into his back. 

When all you did was nod and kiss his cheek, his lifted his head from beside yours and his pace slowed. His eyes searched again till he found the silent question within them. 

Eddie counted down in his head. 

“Do you want to be on top? Ride my dick till you cum?”

You bit your bottom lip as you giggle and he kept his arms wrapped tightly around you as he spun you both around. You kissed him with passion as your hips took over and your moans echoed through the empty trailer.

The first time he ever heard you ask him something, he felt bad because he was so in his head, he didn’t even notice at first. The manager at the music store downtown had kicked him out insisting he stole something and embarrassing him in front of you.

“Fuck you! I’m nothing like my dad!”, he shouted, stomping to open the passenger side door for you before climbing into his side and speeding down the road. “This town will never fucking see me as anyone other than Al Munson’s son.”, he growled. 

“What…what did he do?”

“What didn’t he do, ya know? Asshole was a scammer, gambler, thief…you name it, he did it. I don’t know what my mom ever saw in—”

Eddie paused as his face scrunched in thought and he gradually pulled his van to the side of the road so he could turn to face you. 

“You just asked me something.”

“I’m sorry.”, you whimper as your body begins to fold into itself but his palm on your thigh makes you freeze. 

“There’s never a reason to be sorry for that, sweetheart. Oh my God, I’m so happy.”, he coos as he cups your cheeks and kisses your lips. “You can ask me anything, Y/N.”

That night you explained everything to him and he listened with open ears. From that point forward, questions flowed a bit easier and he loved every single one of them especially the playful ones.

“Do you still like me, Eddie Munson?”, you beam up at with a wide smile as your arms hug him underneath his leather jacket. 

“Pfft, no.”, he teases as he tilts down to kiss you. “I love you.”

###############

Eddie Asks Masterlist

Donate <3

[suprababka]

Hi! :)) could you do a scenario with the boys and their first time with you?

Hiii!👋 Thank you for the request! Of course I will do it! :)) However, I wrote these hcs as if the Reader is a virgin (as well as most of the guys), so I hope you don't mind that🙃 And I'm terribly sorry for taking this so long!🙏 If something is not right, please let me know, and I'll fix it. Have fun!💕

First time with them

T/W: NSWF content! Minors, do NOT interact!!!🔞🔞🔞 (also me: *writes for Metal Bat*... but he's at least 17... right?)

A/N: phew, I FINALLY finished writing this🙂‍↕️ ...Wait, what do you mean I have 300+ followers? Wow, guys, thank you so much! You're amazing🔥🤗

(if you didn't read my General NSWF headcanons, then I recommend checking it out😉)

Thanks for all the likes, comments, reblogs and following me! I really appreciate your feedback and support, guys!🥰🫶

You can check my masterlist to see more of my other works.

Prepare for possible OOC!

(Sorry if there are any mistakes!)

And, most importantly, enjoy!!!

You've been in a relationship with Saitama for a while, and now, you're ready to take things further

But knowing your boyfriend, you have to be the first one to talk about sex

And the talk is likely to be a hard one

Because you're not sure how your man feels about it

So, one day you get the courage to have conversation

And when you're about to start it, you can't help but feel nervous all of a sudden

Saitama gets all impatient and tells you to say directly what you want from him

And you just... spill it out

1 second

2 seconds

3 seconds

4 seconds

5 seconds

"Alright, let's try that"

That's the answer you get after staring at a deadpan face in short silence

After that, you both make it to the bedroom and start making out

You lay on top of your boyfriend and caress his body (even near intimate parts)

Some time later, a pair of strong hands grips your butt and presses it against a clear boner

Wow, he is big

You smirk to yourself, realizing how much your man wants you

And, well, wetness in your pants also tells you how much you need him too

Both of you start moving, Saitama's hard dick sliding along your aroused pussy with only a layer of clothes between them

Soon, you both undress each other

Your boyfriend suggests you to ride him so you could make yourself comfortable

He just doesn't want to accidentally hurt you

You agree and, not wanting to waste any time, start slowly sliding down your man's cock

Even though you take it easy, losing virginity is still painful for you

So you take your time to adjust to new feelings inside you

Saitama reassures you, saying not to push yourself if it's too much

But you insist on going forward

You can't really tell what your boyfriend is thinking about

On one hand, you feel his stare (with somewhat worry) at your face

On the other, you know that his eyes are ranking all over your body (especially your tits)

You continue moving when you get used to new sensations

And it gets better and better with every move you make

You manage to find the perfect pose in which Saitama's dick brushes against your G-spot

And judging by your man's grunts and the way the grip on your ass tightens, he enjoys this too

The sound of skin slapping against each other and your moans fill the room

Soon enough, you both reach your peak

Panting, you lay on Saitama's chest, and he immediately wraps his arms around you, asking if you're alright

You tell that you're fine

Both of you stay like this for a while

Saitama carries you in his arms, and both of you get cleaned up

After that, of course both of you get back to bed and cuddle

Yeah, your first experience with Saitama might not be the best, but at least you took full control (and your man took care of you)😚

Genos doesn't want to pressure you into anything sexual

Both because he isn't in need for sex and because he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable and scare you away

So he decides to wait about 6 months to have a "talk" with you

S-class hero even spends the evening reading different articles and watching videos on how he should approach you with this question

And you? Well, you've been thinking about giving yourself to your boyfriend

It just so happens that you both decide to have a "conversation" at the same day

(what a convenient coincidence)

You tell Genos that you're ready to take the next step in your relationship

He feels honored

When you both get to "business", your boyfriend is extremely careful

His every move is calculated, knowing where to kiss you and caress your body

(or should I say, "remembering what he found on the Internet")

(he also takes mental notes of your weak spots)

Oh, does Genos make a great job at making you aroused and wanting more

Though you notice how focused your boyfriend is

As if he's following someone's instructions

But you decide to ignore that and give in to pleasure

After all, Demon Cyborg always takes everything seriously and walks with that stoic face of his

In the heat of the moment, you start slowly pulling off Genos' shirt

He takes it as a sign that you're ready to proceed further and begins to undress you

Your boyfriend takes a moment, admiring your naked body and complimenting you

Truth to be told, you don't waste an opportunity to enjoy the view of Genos without his clothes

Even though most of his body consists of mechanical parts

(without a dick)

(but you were warned about that earlier)

But he still looks sexy as hell

(doesn't he always tho?😏)

Your man returns to worshiping you and your body, kissing and nibbling it everywhere

When he sees and feels the wetness of your pussy, he starts paying full attention to it, flicking his tongue and tracing it along your folds

It's safe to say that Genos performs amazing cunnilingus and makes you cum in no time

But he isn't done with you, not yet

Prepare for another fantastic round of... fingering

Yeah, your boyfriend wants to please you in every possible way

As could have already guessed, the second round is no less satisfying than the previous one

And you know what? Genos wants to try out to make you cum using both his fingers and mouth

Of course, he excels at it

You pant heavily, trying to come to your sense

You didn't think it would be this good

Meanwhile, your boyfriend can't understand if he took it too far or not

You reassure him that you're alright

After that, he takes care of you, completing your every request

For some time, sex with Genos is like that

But you start feeling awkward because you're the only one who receives pleasure

And talk about with your boyfriend, who listens to you intently

He tells you that he's fine this way, but doesn't protest either

So both of you settle with asking Dr. Kuseno to modulate a dick for Genos

He calls the scientist, and they start discussing details

You could have burnt with shame while answering what size of your man's cock should be, if it should be veiny, how big testes you want, should it be able to ejaculate... well, you get the drill

Some days later, you receive your "order"

It turns out that Genos has to wear his handmade penis like a strap-on

Alright, nothing bad, come to think about it

As always, your boyfriend takes his time preparing you for him

(I guess it's evident that he makes you come undone with his mouth and hands at least one before pulling on his cock)

Genos warns you that it might be painful for you and asks you to tell him if it gets too much

He gently, slowly enters you

You were prepared for the upcoming pain, but fortunately, you don't feel much pain

(thanks to your caring man)

After giving you some time to adjust to new sensations, he begins to move at a slow pace

His thrusts gradually quicken as your moans get louder

God, he is amazing at sex

It feels like his dick was made just for you

(well, it practically is)

The way his tip kisses your uterus and stretches you inside feels like heaven to you

And soon, you let go

You finally feel like you gave in to your lover

However, the feeling that you basically force Genos into sex

Because he still looks concentrated on something with his slightly furrowed eyebrows while making love to you

Almost as if he doesn't enjoy it at all

Your boyfriend reassures you that it's not like that and that he simply focuses on satisfying you

You're not fully convinced

And then it hits you like a rock: Genos doesn't feel anything because his cock doesn't have sensibility

You talk about this with him, and he complies, calling Dr. Kuseno to fix the issue

When the upgraded version of his dick comes, the real sex begins

Not only you enjoy the process, but your boyfriend starts having pleasure as well

You feel it by the way his touch gets more passionate, his movements become more sensual, and the praises and slight moans start coming out of his mouth

And you couldn't be happier about that

Maybe it all started not exactly the way you wanted, but thankfully, Genos listened to you and was ready to work on the issues🥰

When you appear in Sonic's life, his world turns upside down

And so does his perception of many life aspects

For example, if he wasn't interested in anything sexual before, now he does

in a few months of your relationship, he can't help but start fantasizing about you in lustful ways

And you're no better: you start thinking about indulging in intimate activities with your boyfriend

But both of you aren't bold enough to take the next step, settling with just hot make outs

Until one day Sonic gets so passionate while melding his mouth with yours that his hands move down to your butt and even squeezes its cheek

A soft moan escapes your lips

The line has been crossed

Your boyfriend takes you to the bedroom and puses you down to bed without breaking away from you

Your make out session gets even more heated, and you both start undressing each other

When Sonic sees your naked body, he feels like he has never seen something as wonderful as you

(it's a miracle that he wasn't sent flying with a nosebleed)

Your boyfriend pounces on you, kissing, licking, praising, grazing with his teeth your skin

He moves from your neck down to your bosom, leaving a trail of kisses

(and stopping on your breasts to pay special attention to them)

You excitedly wait for him to please your pussy

But Sonic has other plans

He begins to bite and suck on your inner thighs, nuzzling against them

After having enough fun with your thighs, he returns his attention to your womanhood and starts devouring it

He savors your cunt and love juices as if these are the most delicious things in the world

Even though he doesn't really know anything about "special" intimate spots, he watches your reactions and remembers what makes you feel even more good

And just like that, he makes you cum and looks at you with a pride smile

The sight makes his dick twitch excitedly

Your boyfriend carefully inserts himself into you and kisses you, making your whimpers mute

You're so warm and tight

Perfect, just perfect

Even though Sonic is gentle, you still feel pain as he continues to move

He licks away a few of your tears that streamed down your cheeks, saying how sorry he is and that you're doing great

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you gradually get used to your man's cock

Soon enough, the pain turns into a pleasure, you start enjoying this

Your boyfriend relaxes, seeing your blissful expression, and his thrusts get deeper and rougher, making you gasp and moan

Sonic joins you and becomes a whimpering and groaning mess

You both dive into pure ecstasy and come together

(your boyfriend covers your inner thighs with his sperm)

Panting, he leaves a trail of kisses down to your neck, telling how amazing you are, and snuggles with you

When both of you come down from high, he cleans you up with a wet cloth and goes back to cuddling

If you want something, for example, a glass of water, he'll bring you it

So yeah, you could definitely say that your first time was full of passion and desire for each other😏

You've been thinking about taking the next step in your relationship with Garou lately

It all started when he accidentally walked in on your changing

And after that, you'd catch him staring at you... and your forms with darkening eyes

This sent pleasant shivers down your spine

You were wanted

Little did your boyfriend know that he was also desired

One day, you are making out on your couch with you straddling Garou's lap and his hands supporting your waist

Both of you get so passionate that you unconsciously start slightly sliding along your boyfriend's thigh

A weird (in a good way) feeling appears between your legs

You proceed to move more eagerly, and man hands help you with grinding

This feels so good that you start moaning into Garou's mouth

You can't see it, but you feel his smug grin as his hands begin to guide you up and down your thigh

You don't protest and press your folds more against his leg

The harsh rubbing makes your pussy wet in no time

Soon enough, you reach your orgasm and place your head on your man's shoulder

When you come back to reality, you embarrassedly gasp, realizing what just happened

(and that you drenched your boyfriend's trousers)

You look at Garou's face and see his grin and hunger in his eyes

"Heh, I didn't know that I'm such a good kisser, sweetheart"

Rolling your eyes, you playfully bump his chest

And feel something hard against your butt

It doesn't take you too much time to understand what it means

Looking down, you see a clear bulge in his pants

It's rather "impressive"

Garou picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, saying that he wants to have fun as well

Gently placing you on the sheets, he hovers over you and begins to pepper you with kisses

His kisses are tender and soft, despite a not so faint hint of desire in them

Your boyfriend undresses himself first so you could feel more comfortable

He gingerly pulls off your clothes after making sure this is okay with you

A familiar grin appears on his face when he gets to admire your bare curves

What a lucky bastard he is

His lips and hands begin to wander all over your body, kissing and caressing it

Suddenly, his fingers go down to your entrance and teasingly brush against that one spot, making you jolt

And of course Garou notices it and takes the opportunity to "have fun" with you

He uses all his imagination to work magic on you with his hands

And does he enjoy this a lot

Seeing your blissful facial expressions, hearing your soft moans and his name, feeling how wet you get, and your walls clenching around his fingers

So you're close, huh?

It takes a playful grinding on your pin for your boyfriend to send you over the edge

You can tell that he's gonna play with your pussy using his fingers a lot in the future by a mischievous glint in his eyes

After hearing from you that you're ready for him, Garou starts inserting himself into you

He attentively looks at your face to see any sign of discomfort and, unfortunately, notices you grimacing because of pain

Your boyfriend tries to somehow comfort you, telling you that you're doing a great job and that all is going to be okay soon

When he feels you adjusting to him and relaxing, he begins to move

He's rather sweet and gentle with you

You actually anticipated that Garou'd be rougher and more cocky with you in bed

(don't worry, he will in the future)

Nevertheless, you start having pleasure in the process

Your moans are like music to your man's ears

He's relieved to see that you're in no pain anymore and can enjoy your lovemaking session

Though, if you ask him to be rougher, he complies, but is careful as he doesn't want to hurt you

Fun fact: you reach your third climax before Garou does

But don't worry, he follows you not long after

Your boyfriend wants to fill you with his cum desperately

But decides to pull out at the last moment so you don't accidentally get pregnant

And damn, the sight of your cunt covered with his sperm makes him feel... things

He doesn't really understand what this is

(ah-oh, be careful, his possessive side awakened)

(not that he wasn't protective of you before, but still...)

(something primal stirred inside him)

Garou asks if you're alright

Gladly, you're more than fine

Then he carries you to the shower, and both of you get cleaned up

After that, he brings you back to bed and cuddles with

You talk for a while

When exhaustion hits you, and you fall asleep, Garou stays awake for a while admiring your cute face and feeling like the luckiest guy in the world

Some time later, he dozes off as well

That's a quite eventful first time with Garou, huh?😉

Badd loves you with all his heart and does his best not to mess everything up and disappoint you

And he excels at it

Well, until he starts feeling hot and bothered around you

Now that's a problem: Metal Bat respects your boundaries and doesn't want to scare you off

But god, is it hard for him to ignore his twitching dick in pants when you touch and kiss him

So your boyfriend settles with masturbating at his place when he has time

It helps him for some time

However, when you both start heavily making out practically on every date, he desperately prays not to get hard

As you could already have guessed, he gets unlucky one day

Zenko stays over at her friend's place, so Badd asks you out on a date and invites you to stay over at his place

(even though you almost live here already)

You find yourselves in a hot making out session on the couch

One of your hands caresses his back, and the other one is in Metal Bat's hair

Meanwhile, his fingers explore your body, running along your curves

You don't want to stop and you want more

Maybe it's finally time to bring your relationship to the next level?

After all, you've been thinking about this for a while now

Your boyfriend gets lost in the moment too, pressing his body against yours more and exploring your mouth with his tongue more hungrily

And feeling how tight his underwear feels as your hands tug his turtleneck

Wait a minute

...

Fucking hell

Metal Bat immediately stops and looks at you with panicked expression

What should he do???

His mind races with different thoughts, but nothing good comes up

You blink confused

It looks like you scared your man by trying to take the next step...

Yeah, maybe you should have asked him instead of taking action...

As you try to sit up and explain things, you feel man hands grabbing your shoulders and a voice asking you to wait

But it's too late

You feel Badd's hardness

Now you understand what's going on

Metal Bat stammers out apologies and pleads you to not see him as a pervert

You stop him by kissing him and telling that you want him as well

He is surprised, but also glad to hear it

Your boyfriend carries you to the bed, on which you pick up where you left off

You both undress each other

You're perfect, even better than he imagined

His lips and hands begin to worship your bare body

When he gets down to your pussy, he stares at it as if he can't believe this is actually happening

Badd gently pecks your labia, making you gasp

His eyes immediately dart at your face, worrying he did something wrong

But seeing pleasure on your face, he continues

He slides his tongue between your folds, tasting you

Hell, you taste amazing

Metal Bat's advances on your pussy get bolder and bolder as your moans become louder and louder

He gets addicted to your taste and smell

Soon, you come undone

(your boyfriend tries to drink all of your juices, but misses most of them)

Badd reaches out to the lower shelf of his nightstand and takes out a condom

He tries to unpack it, but fails

"How embarrassing", he thinks

You decide to help your man

You kiss him on the cheek and tell that everything is okay

Together, you manage to open the condom and put it on Metal Bat's cock

(which is already wet with his precum)

Your man kisses you, lying you back on bed and settling himself at your entrance

With one final look at you, he begins to pull in

What he feels inside you is indescribable

But the word "fantastic" does a good job at describing how his dick feels in your vagina

Badd tries to hold back his groans as he feels guilty for having pleasure while you're in pain

He comforts you by praising you and peppering your face with kisses

You gradually start getting used to new sensations as your man moves inside you

And when you finally start having your pleasure, Metal Bat suddenly stops, shuddering

Oh, he came

He pulls out of you and throws out the used condom and reaches out for a new one

Badd is ready to go for the second round only if you're also up for this

He gotta make you cum with his cock after all

And of course you agree to another lovemaking session

Which goes rather amazing

Not only you enjoy the process, but also Badd gets rougher

You both moan and gasp loudly, the sound of your skin slapping against each other joins your vocal praises

Some time later, you both cum

Metal Bat nuzzles his face against your neck and stays like for a while

Then he pulls out of you, throws out the condom again and grabs wet wipes

As he cleans you up, he talks to you, asking you if you are alright and need anything and telling you how amazing you feel

After your man is finished, he cuddles with you

You talk and share a few kisses until falling asleep

Maybe Badd was nervous and inexperienced during your and his first time, but still, he manages to satisfy you (and more)😊

Amai perfectly understands that sex is an essential part in the relationships and that both of you will get intimate sooner or later

Even though he doesn't feel the need to get off, he is kinda looking forward to making love to you

But he needs to make sure that you feel the same way

And how he does that?

The answer is simple: by watching you

He notices the way you stare at him with a desire in your eyes and how your touches get more intimate

So Sweet Mask takes you out on a date at a fancy restaurant one day

You both spend time together by cozily talking to each other (and eating delicious food)

And suddenly, Beaut starts a conversation about sex, asking if you already had it and if you're ready to do it with him

You confess that you're still a virgin, but would like to get intimate with him

Your boyfriend smirks, saying that he's glad to hear this

After that, both of you go to Amai's home where things escalate quickly, and you take them to bedroom

It all begins just like in a romantic move: he kisses you sensually, his hands passionately caress your curves, your bodies press against each other, not leaving any space between you

Soft man hands carefully undress you

And when you wanted to help your man to get rid of his clothes, he suddenly pulls away, standing up from bed

His eyes rank over your bare forms in appreciation

Beaut extends his and to you and caresses your cheek with his finger, telling how beautiful you

He offers you two options:

1) you continue the foreplay in a classic way

2) or he can play a certain game with you to make your first experience unique

You're intrigued and excited to see what he has in a store, so you choose the second variant

Smirking, Sweet Mask asks you to sit on your knees and outstretch your arms

You do as he says and feel how your boyfriend puts on you a... something like sleep mask?

As darkness surrounds you, Amai reassures you that everything is fine and tells you not to worry

Suddenly, you feel something sliding along your arm, then it goes down your other arm and back

Somehow, this makes you shiver and swallow in arousal

Your boyfriend has fun with teasing you by brushing a crop against your bare skin and even whipping it

And how much he loves to hear your gasps and hard breathing

Amai pushes you just a little bit more and then stops, pulling off sleep mask from you and commanding you to lay on your back and spread your legs

You do what he says, feeling a bit shy

Beaut gently kisses your forehead and starts grinding his fingers against your folds, making you buck your hips and follow his movements

Damn, he knows what to do with his fingers

Even you couldn't bring yourself such pleasure on lonely nights

Some time later, he inserts hos one finger in you and moves it while other fingers are busy with your labia

Soon, another finger digs into your cunt, stretching your hole

Now this kinda hurts

You try to get used to pain

And as you adjust to it, a third finger joins the other two

Another wave of pain washes over you, making you squirm and clench your walls tightly

Maybe the third finger was too much for you

But Sweet Mask doesn't remove it, giving you some time to adapt

You both stay like this for a while

When your muscles start to relax a bit, he removes his fingers

This leaves you both frustrated due to feeling empty inside

And relived that you don't have to feel the pain anymore

All of this forgotten as you see your man undressing

What a great view indeed

Then Amai comes to the edge of his bed and motions you to get closer

You crawl to him like a good girl you are

He gently grabs your chin and guides it down to his hard dick

You swallow both in anticipation and fear

Beaut tells you to take it easy and if you don't want to do it, then it's fine

But you decide to try yourself in giving a head

You start by leaving a trail of kisses along your man's cock and peck his tip

After that, you gradually take a top his manhood into your mouth and start sucking it

Sweet Mask places his hand on the top of your head and guides you

His moves aren't persistent though, more like supporting you

Your mouth goes down his dick little by little, making sure not to throw up due to gag reflex

What pleasantly surprises is that your boyfriend helps you by telling you what to do better, giving advice and explaining you some tricks in a comforting way

And you're grateful for that

You'd feel anxious about a thought of performing someone a blow job earlier

But now, as the cock's tip reaches your throat, you're aroused as hell and enjoy this

You also feel how your lewd cunt pulses, wanting for more, and how your juices fall down from it on the bedsheets or slide down along your thighs

Your hand moves down to your pussy and starts paying attention to it, massaging it and digging fingers into it

Amai notices that and smirks

Good, that means you're ready for him

Some moments later, he pulls out his dick

Damn, the second orgasm denial

You glance up at him, wondering what you did wrong

Beaut pats your head, saying that you did a fantastic job, but now it's time for the main part

He lies on top of you, kissing you and slowly shoving his cock into you

Yeah, this is far from his fingers

Even though you feel pain, it's not overbearing

And gladly, you adjust to it pretty quickly as your man begins to move

Your moans escape your lips and your nails dig into your man's shoulders

He feels so good

His dick brushes against all of your weak spots, making your pussy wet more and more

You also feel how you get closer and closer to the edge with each thrust

And finally, you come undone beneath your boyfriend

But Sweet Mask is not done with you

He flips you onto your stomach and shoves his dick even deeper inside you

A load moan erupts from your mouth as you feel yourself getting aroused again

Now your man's moves get rougher and harder, turning you into a moaning mess

His tip harshly invades your womb now instead of sweetly kissing it like before

Your cunt is all wet and ready to cum again

Amai's thrusts quicken, meaning he is a bout to finish as well

And soon, you both reach your peaks

And your boyfriend fills you with his sperm

He is the first one to come down from the high

Kissing the top of your head, he scoops you in his arms and carries you to the shower

You come back to reality when you feel warm water dropping on you and man hands cleaning you up

You hug Beaut, placing your head on his chest, and he wraps his arms around you as well

You stand like this for a while

Sweet Mask gets out of the shower and goes to change the bedsheets

Then he returns and carries you back to his clean bed

If you need anything to eat or drink, he will get it for you

But truth to be told, you fall asleep almost as soon as you both start cuddling

Amai watches you for some time and closes his eyes, drifting off too

Wow, Beaut really knows how to make your first time together so steamy and unforgettable🥵

Sex isn't something that Flashy Flash needs in his life or thinks about

And even you don't wake his sexual need

Much to your disappointment

Because you, on the contrary, want to give in to your man

You flirt with him, try to seduce him by wearing revealing clothes, touch him and caress his muscles, kiss his neck or earlobes, etc.

Basically, you do everything what would make any other man want you

But not the infamous S-class hero, apparently

Hell, you even take bath together

And the sight of your naked body doesn't make him feel anything

(or maybe it does, but he doesn't realize that)

(one of life's great mysteries)

But one thing is for sure: you got a dummy as your boyfriend

So yeah, it looks like you have to be straightforward with him

But not necessary with words

So one evening, when you enjoy a hot bath together, you decide to take the lead

It all starts with a few pecks there and there

Flashy Flash returns your kisses

That's a good sign

You straddle his lap and begin to shower his face and neck with kisses as your hands wander over hero's body

And your boyfriend joins you too, caressing your curves in return

The moment gets heated

You even start softly moaning while making out

Suddenly, you feel something poking your butt

Something hard and covered with skin

Oh

It's Flash's dick

And damn, he's huge

But hey, you finally did it!

Smirking, you pull away to look at your boyfriend's face

And as you're about to make a witty remark, he does it before you could make a sound

"Finally decided to take the action, huh?" he smiles smugly

This bastard

Not giving you time to react, you turns you around so your ass and pussy face him

Your hands support your body by grabbing the edge of the bath

"Let me show you how it's done", a man's voice sounds from behind

A pair of hands cup your tits, massaging and squeezing them, and soft lips leave a trail of kisses from your neck down to your... waist

Your pussy is already wet and throbs as it feels a hot breath on it

Flashy Flash finally starts licking and even slightly nibbling your entrance, his nose brushes against your sensitive spots

After a while, he goes up to your butt and starts eating you out there as well

Never in your life had you thought that the S-class hero, Flashy Flash, would devour not just your pussy but your ass too

As you feel yourself slowly getting close to the edge, Flash removes his mouth from you and brushes his cock against your folds, making you moan in excitement

After grinding his dick for a while, he starts gradually entering you

Unfortunately, this doesn't go without pain

Your boyfriend tries to soothe you by gently rubbing your skin around your belly and intimate parts

And even (!!!) praises you, telling you that you're doing a great job

When you adapt to his length, Flash starts gently moving inside you

Soon, pain in your lower part changes into weirdly pleasant feeling

Your boyfriends feels you relaxing and begins to rock his hips faster, but no less gently

The bathroom fills with your moans again, and sweet praises coming out of hero's mouth join them

His hands tenderly caress your curves and his lips pepper you with light kisses

Soon, you feel your climax building up again

A few more deep thrusts send you and your man over the edge

He covers your ass cheeks with his sperm

You'd think that's the end, but you hear Flashy asking you if you're ready for the second round

And of course your needy self gives affirmative answer

S-class hero makes love to you sweetly, lovingly and softly

And despite that, his cock perfectly brushes against your weak spots, giving you immense pleasure

And soon enough, you cum together as well

Your ass gets covered with semen again

While you come down from high, panting, your boyfriend cleans both you up, gets out of the bath, wraps a towel around his waist and extends his hand to you

You take his hand and get out of the bath

Flash covers you with a towel and kisses your forehead

After that, you both get ready to go to bed where S-class hero gives you a good massage so you won't be sore the next morning

You cuddle, and some time later, you fall asleep

Your boyfriend makes sure that you sleep soundly and only after that joins you

Who could have thought that always stoic Flashy Flash turns into a sweet and soft man while making love to you? You definitely didn't, but you're grateful for it😇

I'll never get tired of telling you that Zombieman is a real gentleman in your relationship

He never looks at you in an inappropriate way

However, S-class hero understands that both of you will indulge in lustful activities one day

So he settles with just preparing for your first time together (reading some articles on how to give your pleasure) and waiting for you to be ready to take the next step in the relationship

Because he believes he will come out as a pervert if he brings this topic up first

And he will be damned if he upsets you somehow

As for you... Well, you've been wanting your man for a while now

Especially when you saw him after his fights with monsters on news or in real life

Those abs and pumped up biceps shouldn't be left with attention!

Gladly, you both communicate in your relationship, so you're used to talking about what bothers you and listening to each other

So you decide to have a conversation on one of your café dates

Fortunately, your talk goes rather smoothly and easy

Zombieman tells you that he's happy to hear this and would like to get intimate with you as well

Though, you don't get straight away to the business

Both of you take an HIV test first

And when you get the results, saying that everything is alright and you both don't have any venereal diseases, you're finally ready to give in to each other

Your boyfriend takes you to his home and guides you to his bedroom

He gently pins you on his bed under him

S-class hero knows that he needs to prepare you for him before taking any advances on you

And let me tell you that he takes his time with this

Zombieman sensually kisses and lightly bites your lips, earlobes, chin, neck, shoulders, collarbones

(all spots he read about that can potentially arouse you)

Meanwhile, his hands caress your curves

In the heat of the moment, you don't notice how you pull off your man's T-shirt

Finally, you can do what you've been craving for

Your fingers begin to teasingly run along his muscles and explore his body

S-class hero gives you a small smile, enjoying the sensations and getting rid of his jeans

He continues making out with you until he feels you getting undressed

After helping you out with your clothes, he admires your body, telling how great you look

Zombieman gets back to worshiping your body with his lips and tongue

When the bulge in his pants gets unbearable, he takes off his pants, freeing his hard dick and making you gasp

Afraid that he did something wrong, his eyes immediately dart to your face

Hero exhales relieved when he sees desire in your stare

(and when he notices how wet your panties are in the corner of his eyes)

Smirking, you begin slowly untying your bra

This makes your boyfriend swallow hard, feeling his cock twitching

As your fingers tug the waistband of your undies, strong man hands impatiently pull them off

And again, Zombieman can't help but enjoy the sight of your naked body

One of his hands goes down to your pussy, rubbing it, and the other one cups one of your tits, squeezing it

His mouth starts paying attention to your other boob, licking and grazing the nipple

The pleasure makes you moan and buck your hips, wanting more

This doesn't go unnoticed, and you feel two fingers slowly stretching your hole

You whimper in pain as your boyfriend tries to comfort you, talking to you so you get distracted from unpleasant feelings

And it helps

As he feels you relaxing, he starts moving his fingers inside you

You enjoy new sensations, but still, it's not enough for you

You want your man's cock

Hearing your request, Zombieman removes his fingers and starts slowly entering you

You knew it'd be painful and was prepared for that

But damn, it still stings rather bad

S-class hero tries to comfort you again by praising you and making a small talk on an abstract topic

You try to focus on the conversation with your boyfriend and ignore the aching in your lower body part

Soon, the pain gradually fades away, and you get aroused as well

Your boyfriend notices that and starts rocking his lips

His movements are gentle and careful

He lifts your pelvis up so he could thrust deeper into you

Now his dick perfectly brushes against all of your weak spots, making you moan louder and louder

Your pussy definitely loves that and starts to extract love juices more

Every time the cock's tip pecks your womb, you feel like it's the breaking point

And it doesn't take you long to cum when Zombieman's moves quicken

After a few more thrusts, he follows you, ejaculating in your warm pussy

His lips meet yours in a loving kiss

S-class hero tells you how amazing you were and asks if you're alright

Then he takes you to the shower to clean you up

He even massages your intimate zone, hoping to ease the possible soreness between your legs the next morning

His hands move cautiously, making sure not to hurt you

When you're done washing yourselves, you return to bed and cuddle

If you need anything, just ask him and consider it done

Your eyes grow heavy after some time of talking to your lover and listening to his steady heartbeat

So you fall asleep

The hero admires your sleeping face for some time and then proceeds to doze off as well

You couldn't ask for a better man to have your first time with than Zombieman, and you're so happy that he handled it like a gentleman and like a caring boyfriend😌

King may come off as an innocent man who doesn't watch hentai or play games of this genre

And of course he definitely doesn't jerk off

Alright, let's be real

He is a dirty pervert and masturbates pretty often

This worsens when he starts dating you

Because now he can fanaticize only about you, even if he feels guilty after doing so

Your boyfriend also doesn't know how to approach you with this topic

So he hopes that things will go naturally

And they do

But not in the way he would like to

It's a regular day

You're in the city, busy with your stuff

King is at his place and plays videogames

A suggestive scene is played

And of course your boyfriend gets hot and bothered, imagining if it were you and him

He hurries to the toilet and pulls out his hard cock

As he starts stroking it, he catches a glimpse of your dirty panties in the laundry bin

Ah-oh, he knows what comes next

King hurryingly takes your undies and stuffs his mouth with them

Mmm, tasty as always

Hero continues grinding his dick with his teeth gripping your underwear

However, this is not enough

He wraps your panties around his member and proceeds masturbating further

Now that's the deal

As he feels the climax building up, he moans

Suddenly, he hears footsteps and the door opening

King freezes, turning his head and seeing you in the doorway

He feels like the word stops with him as well

Weren't you supposed to be somewhere in the city now?

Well, yeah, you were

But you managed to deal with your stuff earlier than you expected and decided to surprise your boyfriend, coming home earlier

Turns out, he prepares a bigger surprise for you

The sight before you doesn't disgust you

On the contrary, it makes your pussy pleasantly tingle

Maybe because you've been waiting for a moment to bring your relationship to the next level lately

You walk up to your man who looks at you with a dread in his eyes, waiting for your wrath

But instead, you smirk and start stroking his dick

Holy moly, your hand works magic on him

King cums rather soon and looks at you ashamed

What are you gonna do now? Should he say something? Can he just sink into the ground already?

You motion him to follow you, and he complies

You command him to undress and lay on the bed

And the obedient boy he is, the gamer does what you say

You smirk again and start stroking his cocks again, turning your boyfriend into a whimpering mess

You don't know why, but this makes you aroused as hell

The hero reaches his peak pretty fast again

He starts mumbling something, but you can't really make out what he tries to utter

You ask him again, again and again

Finally, he gets the courage and screams out that he wants to eat out your pussy

You hum amused and begin undressing yourself

King stares at you, not quite believing what is happening

You give him a small show by stripping down and grin at sight of your flustered man

When you're finished, the hero lies on his back and excitedly waits for you to sit on his face

You can't keep him waiting now, can you?

As soon as you settle yourself on him, he immediately starts devouring your cunt, hungrily licking and nibbling it

And his nose rubs your clit in the just perfect way

Wow, you didn't expect this to feel that good

But no complaints from you

You tug on his hair with one hand and grasp the headboard with the other one

Your hips start bucking, following your boyfriend's movements

And soon, you come undone, wetting gamer's face with your love juices

When you get off from King, you see him laying with closed eyes and satisfied smile as if one of his biggest dreams came true

He quickly returns to reality and licks off all your wetness around his lips

Meanwhile, you move to his dick, preparing to sit down

A pair of man hands gently grab your waist, ready to help you

With one final look at hero's face, you start slowly sliding down his cock

Even though you're able to regulate your speed and pose, this process is still painful for you

King guides you, pronging your pussy to his full length

You take your time to adjust to the unpleasant feeling between your legs

Your boyfriend is concerned about you and tries to come up with solutions on how he can help you and ease your pain

His hand smoothly stroke your back as he talks to you in a reassuring way

Moreover, he manages to make you laugh!

He smiles relieved as you seem to stop feeling any discomfort

You smile as well, feeling the familiar tingling in your womanhood

You decide to move again and, fortunately, there is no pain anymore

Both of you finally can enjoy the sex to the fullest

The gamer starts rocking his hips, joining you

You moan, placing your hands on his shoulders

King gets vocal as well, getting louder than you

You both feel like you're in seventh heaven as the room fills with different lewd sounds you both make

Your boyfriend's dick teases your sensitive spots, bringing you closer and closer to the edge

His nails dig into your waist and his thrusts quicken, meaning that he's going to reach his peak too

And soon, you both cum together

Gladly, the hero pulls out his cock just in time

You flop on his chest panting and tired

King immediately wraps his arms around you, still coming down from high too

Both of you stay like this until your boyfriend is back in the real world and starts cleaning you up

He makes sure that you're alright and all your needs are met

After that, you cuddle and talk to each other

Mostly, you discuss what just happened and make jokes about it there and there

And then you both happily fall asleep

Who could have known that catching your boyfriend at masturbating would lead to such passionate a night? Neither you nor King could have foreseen this, but both of you are happy with the outcome😜

[littlestarbigsky]

so ive been saying for a hot minute that i want to write some more with mama curtis sooo happy thursday gang, here’s this silly lil dally and mama curtis fic🩷

tbh i loved writing this so if you’d be interested in seeing more stuff like this plss tell me <33

the mid morning sun shone brightly through the window as mama opened the front door after her shift at the hospital. it had been a long night, her feet stinging with every step she took. she kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned the top of her scrubs, gazing longingly down the hallway as she imagined her bed, and how good it would feel to finally sleep.

the euphoria was short lived. as she surveyed the kitchen and living room, checking for unwashed dishes or anything her sons may have forgotten, when her eyes landed on another boy hunched over on her couch. she had to swallow a gasp as she took in his appearance. his hair was matted with dried blood, his clothes hanging off him loosely and torn in places, but her initial shock seemed to double as he looked up at her. both of his eyes were swollen and red, a thick trail of blood dried around both of his nostrils, and a slice, probably from a switchblade, across one of his cheeks. if she hadn't known him so well, the planes and curves of his face like the back of her hand, she might not have recognized him.

"dally..." she sighed, hurrying over to him and sitting down on to coffee table to face him, freshly fourteen and full of anger and fear.

"you should see the other guy..." he muttered, wincing as his split lip tore open with the speech.

"i don't care about the other guy," mama answered quickly, gently brushing some of his hair back from his forehead to get a better look at him. "what happened?"

"man, i don't know," dally flinched away as her hand grazed a cut nestled somewhere in his mess of hair. "there were a bunch of 'em, i don't remember."

she sighed heavily, "c'mon, get your ass in the bathroom."

he rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the couch, limping to the bathroom, mama walking a bit behind him to survey what else might be wrong. a part of her supposed it was lucky that all of these boys had a nurse close by to patch them up when they needed it, but it didn't make it any easier for her to see them so banged up.

especially dally. gpd, if that kid could make it two weeks without showing up at her doorstep looking like a stray dog, she’d sleep a lot better at night. she knew he had been trying, hell, sodapop said dally had even helped an old lady who fell in the park. he had admittedly swiped $10 from her, but… details. she knew he didn’t mean to cause her so much trouble, but the fact was, it seemed to find him just fine.

the angle dally was holding his head at seemed relatively normal, and he didn't seem too disoriented, so she silently ruled out a concussion. every few steps, he'd hiss quietly and grab at his side, leading her to suspect a broken rib or two.

he pushed the bathroom door open and sat down on the closed toilet seat, knowing their little routine by now. dally had been in tulsa for about six months after hopping trains all the way from new york city. the first time mama had met him, she was chasing him away with a broom when he offered her 11-year-old a cigarette. she knew kids in tulsa got into that stuff early, lord knows johnny was already smoking at 12 and a 15-year-old two-bit had shown up at her door drunk one night, but she was keeping her boys away from all of that if she could help it. dally wasn't like the other kids in tulsa, all those nasty things she’d tried to steer them away from, were old habits of his.

"where?" she asked as she started pulling supplies out of the first aid kit, and she knew this routine of theirs well enough to know he understood.

"the nightly double yesterday," he sighed, watching her hand apprehensively as she approached his face with an alcohol wipe.

she started to wipe away the blood caked under his nose and around the cut on his cheek, "last night? where were you all night then?"

dally shrugged, tipping his head back as mama cleaned out the wound, "around, i bummed 'round the drive-in for a while longer, i crashed in the lot."

"why'd you only come here in the morning then?" she fished around in his rat's nest of hair to try to find the cut, and he winced violently as she found it. "sorry, honey."

dally just rolled his eyes, "thought steve or two or johnny might be layin' over, didn't wanna make a fuss."

she nodded, accepting the story for what it was. even though two-bit and johnny had been frequent flyers lately, they hadn't been staying over, but there was every chance they could have been. dally was being honest, she could tell.

"next time," she tilted his head back gently. "you can stay in the recliner or we could stick steve or johnny with soda. it's getting cold, dally, you can't be sleeping out in the lot like that."

he huffed out a breath and she continued to work. they fell mostly silent, except for dally's occasional hisses in pain as she dabbed at cuts and bruises. dally's nose was broken, but by her estimation, he'd already set it back in place, and there wasn't much else she could do about it. she put a few butterfly closures over the gash on his cheek, praying that he wouldn't end up needing stitches or getting it infected, which seemed much more likely. once she had him all cleaned up, she admitted silently that he wasn't in as bad a shape as she had initially thought.

"stand up," she instructed, holding out a hand to help hoist him off the toilet.

he pulled himself up gingerly and raised his arms, knowing she would ask. she lifted his shirt up and ran gentle fingers along his ribs, feeling for breaks. when she seemed satisfied not to have found any, she gave a few experimental squeezes to his stomach. he flinched whenever she would press on a bruised area, but nothing seemed wrong internally. she smiled; he was okay.

she stood up and dally dropped his arms, not meeting her eyes.

"you look like you're gonna pass out," she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and frowned. "i'm gonna get you something else to wear and we're gonna get some food in you, alright?"

he nodded mutely, waiting patiently for her to fish some clothes out of the drawers in her sons’ bedrooms and bring them back for him. he changed out of his torn and dirty jeans and t-shirt, dragging himself out into the living room and collapsing onto the couch, pulling his knees into his chest and burying his face in them. she came back out after a few minutes, a plate with some toast and sliced fruit in her hands.

she set the plate down on the coffee table and sat down next to him, maybe closer than he would have wanted, but something in her knew he wouldn’t shy away.

“you know, i can hear all those thoughts buzzing around in that head of yours,” she mused. dally slowly lifted his head and looked over at her, his eyes meeting hers in a knowing gaze. “you don’t have to be strong with me, baby, i know you’re hurtin’.”

dally glanced down at his hands clasped over his knees, knuckles bruised and dried blood caked over top. he didn’t even know if it was his. he slowly shifted and laid against her side and the second he was touching her, he knew he never wanted to move. she tugged him a little closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

the contact was so gentle, so kind, so unlike anything dally had ever experienced, even with his big sister back in new york. even then, they had always been rough and tumble, never stopping to feel scared or talk each other down when one of them was hurt. he felt something inside of him snapping, maybe the pieces of himself that promised he’d never cry again, or maybe just something that’d had just about enough of getting beat on by preppy rich kids. either way, tears welled in his eyes and he sniffled heavily, trying to keep them at bay.

“that’s it,” she rested her head against his, carefully avoiding the cut she had just cleaned. “it’s alright, honey, i’ve got you.”

dally didn’t know how to feel, but he was becoming more and more aware that he had no control over it either way. he tried to blink back a tear, but instead, they fell from both of his eyes. he heaved a huge breath in frustration, and looked the other direction, hoping she wouldn’t notice.

instead, she guided his head to rest on her shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his head.

“you’re a real bruiser, dallas winston,” she whispered. “doesn’t mean it don’t hurt.”

dally shuddered, the delayed panic and pain settling somewhere in his chest. he curled up into mama’s warm embrace, emotions he didn’t even know he had pouring out of him like he was a stuck pig.

“mama…” he whimpered, pressing his face into her shoulder.

she smiled softly, combing a hand through his hair, “i love you, kiddo. get some rest.”

when ponyboy got home after school, spotting dally asleep on the couch in minutes, he walked back to mama’s room, where she was in bed reading a book.

“dally’s on the couch,” he informed her nonchalantly.

“i know,” she held out a hand to her youngest, still small for eleven years old and still as much a mama’s boy as he was the day he was born.

he crawled up on the bed with her, “he was pretty banged up.”

“i know, i’ve got him all sorted out,” she pulled pony into her lap, where he leaned up against her shoulder contentedly. he was a dead weight against her, she could feel how tired he was.

“what do you mean?” he asked quietly, his brows furrowed.

she squeezed him for a moment before pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, “everyone just needs a mama sometimes.”

[lowrisemiller]

don't tell jeff ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🐇˚

one-shot! | masterlist | 2.4k words | kissing, yearning, & fingering |

jackie’s first time with a girl

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and something vaguely floral—Jackie’s perfume, no doubt. I hadn’t even heard her come in. One minute I was hunched over the counter peeling a blood orange, the next, she was in the doorway like she’d always belonged there.

“Hey,” she said casually, like it was normal for her to be here when Jeff wasn’t.

“Hey,” I replied, trying not to sound surprised.

Jeff had run out to grab something from the hardware store, muttering something about needing a new wrench for Dad’s busted sink. I’d offered to go instead—college had left me with more free time than I knew what to do with—but he insisted. I wondered now if it was on purpose. He always did have a suspicious way of playing matchmaker with people he shouldn’t be playing with.

Jackie walked further in, her ponytail swinging, lips glossy and pink. She was wearing shorts and Jeff’s varsity hoodie, like some dumb badge of commitment.

“You always look like you’re thinking about something tragic,” she said, half-teasing, as she leaned against the counter across from me.

I shrugged, peeling another slice of orange. “It’s my resting college face. Very intellectual.”

She grinned. “So, how’s it feel to be back in good ole Jersey?”

“Like I’ve time-traveled. Everything’s the same. You, Jeff, Mom’s casserole. Even the weird fridge magnet shaped like a lobster.” 

“Hey, don’t insult the lobster.” Jackie plucked the orange slice from my hand and popped it in her mouth without asking.

I stared. “You’re bold.”

“I’m bored,” she said through the citrus. “Jeff’s been playing too much NBA 2K and not enough ‘pay attention to your girlfriend’ lately.”

I didn’t say anything to that. I wasn’t going to comment on my brother’s lackluster boyfriend skills. He was lucky someone like Jackie even looked at him twice—hell, everyone knew it. She had this… shine about her. Perfect teeth, effortless hair, a voice like she knew exactly what you were going to say before you said it.

And right now, she was watching me too closely.

“You don’t like me, do you?” she asked suddenly, not in an angry way. Just curious.

I blinked. “What?”

“You always look at me like you’re trying not to look at me. Like I’m made of glass or something.”

“That’s not true.”

Jackie gave me a dry smile and turned to the fridge, pulling it open like she owned the place. “You know what I think?” she asked, rifling through leftover takeout containers and string cheese sticks. “I think you’re afraid of me.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” I said. Too quickly.

Jackie pulled out a cold can of soda and shut the fridge with her hip. “It’s okay. Most people are. I’ve been told I’m… intense.”

She popped the tab and took a sip. Her eyes didn’t leave mine.

“I don’t think you’re intense,” I said. “I think you’re performing. There’s a difference.”

Jackie’s brow lifted. “Ooh. The psych major speaks.”

I hadn’t told her I was a psych major.

She must’ve seen the flicker on my face because she smiled again—smaller this time, a little less polished. “Jeff talks about you a lot. You’re kind of his hero, you know?”

I rolled my eyes. “He needs better role models.”

“No. He doesn’t. You’re the realest person in this house.” She stepped closer and set the soda down. “Which is why I wanted to ask you something.”

There it was. The shift in the air.

I stood up a little straighter. “Okay?”

Jackie’s fingers played with the hem of her sleeve. “You’re… out, right?”

My stomach did a small somersault. “Yeah.”

“Did you always know?”

I studied her face. The casual tilt of her head didn’t match the tension in her hands.

“Not always,” I admitted. “I knew something was different when I was thirteen, watching Valley Girl and realizing I didn’t care about Nicolas Cage at all.”

Jackie snorted, relaxing just a little. “Deborah Foreman is hot.”

“Exactly.”

There was a pause. Not uncomfortable, exactly. Just heavy. Like the room was waiting for something to drop.

“I think I like girls,” she said quietly.

I didn’t breathe for a second.

Jackie’s voice had changed—smaller now, hesitant. Like if she said it too loud, it might not be true.

“I don’t know,” she added quickly, like backpedaling might save her. “I mean, I’ve only dated guys. But sometimes, I look at someone and I think, God, I wish I could just be close to her. Like really close. But not in a friend way. Not in the way I’m supposed to.”

I nodded slowly. “That sounds pretty gay to me.”

Jackie let out a short laugh—relieved, but almost embarrassed. “God, don’t say it like that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m dating your brother.”

That part sat between us like a cracked plate.

I didn’t move. “Do you love him?”

Jackie looked down at her soda. “He’s… nice. He’s good to me. And sometimes, I think that should be enough.”

“But?”

She looked up. Her eyes were wide and a little too bright. “But I don’t feel the way I’m supposed to. Not the way I imagine I would if it were someone else. Someone who… saw all the weird, hidden parts and didn’t get freaked out.”

I leaned back against the counter. My heart thudded.

“Jackie,” I said gently, “are you telling me this because I’m out… or because it’s me?”

She looked at me like I’d caught her in a dream.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Maybe both.”

My breath caught.

Jackie stepped closer, her voice low. “I think about you sometimes. I know I shouldn’t. You’re Jeff’s sister, and you’re older, and… you’re not supposed to be part of this equation.”

She paused.

“But then you walk into the room and I feel like the air gets heavier. Like there’s something electric just waiting. And I hate it. But I love it.”

I felt like I was suspended in time, like one move could set off a domino line of things neither of us could undo.

“You’re not crazy,” I said softly. “But you are playing with fire.”

Jackie smiled. “I think I’ve been on fire for a while now. I just didn’t have a name for it.”

She was close enough that I could smell the hint of her lip gloss and shampoo, something expensive and soft. Her hand brushed mine where it rested on the counter. Just barely.

It was like touching a live wire.

“I won’t do anything while you’re still with Jeff,” I said, though my voice was shakier than I wanted it to be.

Jackie’s eyes searched mine. “But if I wasn’t?”

I swallowed. “Then I might let you kiss me.”

The front door clicked open.

Jackie stepped back immediately, as if she’d never moved at all. She grabbed her soda, sipped it casually, and turned toward the hallway.

Jeff came into the kitchen with a new wrench in hand. “Got it. The guy tried to upsell me on a whole set—can you believe that?”

“Shocking,” I said, voice even.

Jackie smiled at him, just like she always did. But when she glanced back at me, there was something new in her eyes.

A secret.

One we now shared.

It had been three days since Jackie almost told me everything.

Three days of pretending. She still came around like always, still looped her arms around Jeff’s waist, still laughed at whatever he said like it was the funniest thing in the world. But I saw it. I felt it. The difference. The way her eyes lingered on me when she thought no one was watching. The way she avoided being in a room alone with me.

Until tonight.

The doorbell rang just after eight. I was alone—Jeff had picked up a night shift at the car wash, said he’d be home late, probably not until after midnight. I wasn’t expecting anyone, especially not Jackie.

But when I opened the door, there she was.

No makeup. Damp hair, like she’d just showered. Bare legs and an oversized hoodie—my brother’s, I realized after a second. Her arms were wrapped around herself like she was trying to keep something in.

“I was walking,” she said. “I didn’t know where I was going, and then I ended up here.”

I opened the door wider. “You okay?”

Jackie shook her head. “Can I come in?”

I stepped back and let her in without another word.

She moved like someone who wasn’t sure she was allowed to take up space. The TV was still playing something dumb and low in the background, but the room felt suddenly louder, heavier. She stood there for a minute, then sat on the couch, curling her legs up beneath her.

“Jeff’s at work,” I said as I turned off the TV. “It’s just me.”

She nodded slowly. “Good.”

I sat across from her, nervous energy crawling under my skin. “You want something? Water?”

“No,” she said softly. Then: “I broke up with him.”

My heart stopped. “When?”

“Last night. He came over, and I just… said it.” She looked down at her lap. “I didn’t say it was because of you. But I think he knew. Part of him, anyway.”

I stared. “You did?”

She finally met my eyes. “Yeah. I couldn’t keep pretending. Not with him. Not with myself.”

Silence fell like dust. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t believe she’d done it. Jeff wasn’t perfect, but she’d been safe with him. Comfortable. Whatever existed between her and me—it was new. Dangerous.

“I was scared,” she said, voice trembling a little. “But when he left, I didn’t feel guilty. I felt… relieved.”

She stood up then, crossing the room slowly, eyes on me. “You said if I wasn’t with him…”

My breath hitched. “Yeah?”

Jackie stopped in front of me. Her fingers toyed with the edge of her sleeve. “Then you might let me kiss you.”

I stood up too. We were inches apart.

My voice was barely above a whisper. “I remember.”

She looked up at me like I was the last thing keeping her grounded.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” she said. “I didn’t know how much I wanted something real until I looked at you and realized—I couldn’t go back.”

My hand lifted to her face, thumb brushing her cheek. She leaned into it like it was the only thing holding her up.

“Tell me to stop,” she said, breathless. “If you don’t want this—”

But I kissed her before she could finish.

She melted against me like she’d been waiting years. My hands slid down her back, under the hem of her hoodie, pulling her closer until our bodies pressed together. Jackie gasped into my mouth, her hands fisting in my shirt like she was afraid I’d pull away.

But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

We stumbled backward toward the hallway, bumping into the wall, the doorframe, laughing in between kisses. My bedroom door swung open and we fell into the bed, tangled, breathless.

Jackie pulled her hoodie off slowly, eyes locked on mine. Underneath was just a thin tank top, no bra. She climbed into my lap, straddling me, and cupped my face between her hands.

“You feel like a dream,” I whispered.

“So do you.”

Her lips found mine again, deeper this time, slower. She kissed like someone who wanted to memorize every part of it—every gasp, every moan, every shift in breath. My hands roamed her thighs, her hips, her back. She was warm and soft and trembling.

“Are you sure?” I murmured into her neck.

Jackie nodded against my skin. “Yes. I want this. I want you.”

I rolled her gently beneath me, kissing down her throat, her collarbone, my hands sliding under her tank top to feel the heat of her skin. Her fingers tangled in my hair, her back arching.

It was slow. Intimate. Steady. We learned each other in pieces—each touch, each sound, each whispered plea unfolding like a secret too long buried.

We had all the time in the world.

I pulled her closer.

Jackie then started to roll her hips against mine but it was hard and stiff. Like she was forcing it or most likely from the nerves.

“Hey hey you're so tense, I thought we weren’t rushin’?”

I had a firm ringed hand on her hip.

“I just thought it would be good?” Jackie said with uncertainty.

Yep, nerves.

“Oh sweetheart, lay down for me. Please?”

In an instant Jackie found herself laying on the plush mattress. My hands roamed up and down her clothed sides slowly and softly.

“Tonight is gonna be about you, alright? Let me take care of you.” I whispered softly in her ear.

Jackie nodded slowly and I continued running my hands along her perfect body.

Jeff’s sweater was discarded as soon as we stepped foot in my room so now she was left with just a tank top and some small cotton shorts.

Hot.

I could see her pebbled nipples through the thin fabric. I couldn’t resist and squeezed one of her boobs in my palm.

It’s accompanied by a tiny high-pitched huff that slips from Jackie’s lips.

“Oh?” I teased, a cheeky tone in my voice.

Jackie huffs again and smiles. “It’s hard not to get turned on when you’re touching me,” she says, quietly defending herself. 

“Good,” I whispered, as I placed a soft kiss on Jackie’s neck. 

A few short seconds pass and Jackie starts to shift her hips a little bit, almost like she’s trying to press into something that isn’t there, and I know Jackie must be feeling it. 

“You want me to keep going?” I ask, genuinely. If Jackie wants to stop, we stop.

Jackie bit her soft plump lips and pretended to be in deep thought for a second, then she smirked up at me.

“I like the way your hands feel, don’t you dare stop Sadecki.” 

And with that I continued my ministrations on her chest.

Jackie’s hips kept bucking into mine so I finally moved down her body and slipped her tiny shorts off.

“Aw baby, these are cute,” I jutted my head at her white lace panties. “You wearin these for me?,” I teased and smirked down at her.

She averted her gaze from mine and looked at the glowing lamp on my desk.

I gripped her chin gently with my thumb and pointer finger and turned her face back to where it was.

“I like them, can I check if you’re all wet for me?”

Her cheeks turned tomato red but she nodded anyway.

I don't’ believe in god by any means, but Jackie Taylor must’ve been an angel sent from Heaven.

When I went to peel her panties off they practically stuck to her because she was so slick and wet, all for me.

I was flattered. 

I slotted a finger between Jackie’s lower lips, dragging wetness up to her clit and began petting over it slowly. Jackie instantly sighs into the touch.

“Feels good,” Jackie affirms, exhaling. 

It only takes Jackie a couple minutes to finish, with my finger expertly circling her clit and occasionally tapping against it. I kept placing sweet little kisses on Jackie’s neck and shoulder, rubbing Jackie’s hip with my free hand, gently massaging a boob, brushing Jackie’s hair to one side, whispering little words of praise in Jackie’s ear…

“That’s it. There you go. Pretty girl…. You’re doing so good. Go ahead and finish. Come whenever you wanna.” 

Jackie shakes lightly as she orgasms, pressing her head back onto me as it rolls over her, curling into herself as she finishes. I held her through it, opting to draw circles around Jackie’s clit so  I don’t overstimulate her.

“That feel good sweetheart?,” I whispered in her hair.

Jackie nodded.

“God you’re good at that” Jackie breathes out, chuckling. 

“Well, I’ve had a bit of practice,” I retort, also chuckling. 

Hours later, they curl up on the couch together and watch one of those dumb action movies that show on TV late at night. Jackie rests her head in my lap, cuddling up to me as I rub Jackie’s back.

Jackie brushed a hand down my arm and whispered, “I don’t know what I am. I just know that when I’m with you, it feels like the truth.”

“Thats all i need”

[illusionxwrites]

He wondered offhand how she learned to do that -- how she could bat her eyelashes and get him to melt. She could ask him for anything and give him those eyes and he would stretch himself to the limit to get it for her. It seemed like too much power for one person to have. "Maybe it's time for me to give up my doorman hat and become what I was really meant to be: the garbageman." If Eloise was any other woman, he might've read into the lingering hand. Sebastian was, after all, above average in looks and had a kind, 'not a serial killer' disposition -- he didn't typically have problems attracting women. But, Eloise was not any other woman. She was magnetic and charming and way, way out of his league.

He cupped his hand around the lighter to keep the wind from blowing it out as he lit the joint, letting his gaze linger on her lips for a moment longer than necessary. "One sec," He tucked the joint into the corner of his mouth, holding it gently as he shrugged out of his sports coat -- fortunately, the company uniform required him to wear one embroidered with the complex's name. "Here, don't want you to freeze," he gave her an apologetic look for not thinking it through before they stepped outside, putting the jacket around her shoulders so she couldn't protest. Once he could refocus (he was never great at multitasking), he took a short hit and passed the joint back. "Mm, just lucked into it I guess. I used to be a bartender so I'm used to the overnights, I got sick of that scene though. Too much... noise. So I applied here on a whim and..." he gestured as if to say and here I am. "What do you do to pass the time? I only know the nighttime party habits, what's your daytime alter ego like?"

Eloise was in her element. She loved playful, flirtaious banter. "With me in your corner, you can break any rule you want to," she responded in a teasing tone of her own, looking up at him with her large brown doe eyes, batting her lashes. When they stepped out into the chilly night air, El wrapped her arms around herself, as she was only wearing her silky, form-fitting black dress that didn't offer much warmth. Fashion before comfortability, always. She laughed at his comment, "Oh no way, this is totally our spot now. Every time I smell garbage, I'll totally think of you." Honestly, it wasn't bad, and it was private. She was smiling playfully at him, reaching to take the joint, but leaving the lighter. She let her hand linger against his bigger one for just a moment longer than necessary, setting the filtered end between her two glossed lips. The joint wavered in her mouth as she spoke, "Be a doll and light it for me?" She leaned in close, rasing a hand and waggling her fingers, "The acrylics are a bitch." She looked up at him through her lashes, a flirty smile on her face. When she was able, she took a deep drag, inhailing the familiar earthy tasting smoke. Blowing a cloud upward into the air, she passed the joint back. "So, tell me how'd you end up working here?"

[justasillyjokester]

I always wanted to try making a pmv so have this test thing.

I would have done the whole thing but i ran out of ideas because there's so little scenes of them.

why is the timing all wrong what is going oooooon

[fadefromthelight]

i drew this because i want those converses and i decided to use that valentine's day is coming up as an excuse for the pink and heart theme lol