#Why he gotta wear something so teasing

[ranminfan]

Another reason why I love the Hellfire scene.

His... N-neck... and clavicle...

[screampied]

RIDIN' DIRTY ?!

⋆˚. sum. you never realized how hot your local mechanic was until he had you arched and bent over your hood. spoiler fucking alert, you end up getting a different kind of pipe that’s of course free of charge just for you.

warnings. fem! reader, mechanic toji, unprotected, degradation, oral (f! receiving), spıt, breēding, shotgunning, fuckıng you on the hood, praise, manhandling, pússywhipped toji, size kink, biting, brief fıngering, petnames.

wc. 5.3k

an. ty kali for beta'ing some x

“she’s all done, ma’am,” your mechanic toji murmurs in a gruff voice, yanking back your stick shift before putting it in park. he drove it near the garage of his auto shop, a rounded plump cigarette sticking from the corner of his mouth. with a yawn departing from his lips, he eyes you up and down for a bit before removing his seatbelt. stepping out, he then towers over you by many, many staggering inches. his silhouette alone was intimidating, and you shift your dilated irises away once he cocks his head to your level. “still in pretty good shape. y’er model ain’t that old ‘n i think you should visit every few weeks.”

compressing your thighs together, you bury your purse underneath the pit of your arm. “oh, okay thank you sir,” and as he’s standing—you then take a good glimpse at the man in front of you. he’s handsome, sweaty, and covered in nothing but a slick sheet of grease. the more you gawk, the more you could see a bit of curly chest hair poke out against his skin. his broad chest, his perky pink nipples that poked-

“heh, darlin’ ya don’t gotta be so formal, y’know,” and your eyes darted toward his work cap that was slightly twisted. god, he was so attractive. he inches toward you closer, watching you struggle to keep composure before you think he’s gonna kiss you. so what do you do, you close your eyes. you close your fucking eyes, thinking he was gonna kiss you but instead, he places a hand on the hood of your car. “oh? silly girl, were you expectin’ something?”

“n- no.”

yeah, you were.

it was late at night, midnight, and everyone had clocked out for the day.

everyone except toji. he was a workaholic. you needed a last minute oil change and he was the only available one near by. he was about to close but made an exception. the auto shop has a cooling air surrounding the inside of the garage before you swallow. you can hear your saliva trail its way down your throat as you finally meet direct eye contact with the older man. “cute,” toji murmurs, and he’s not even touching you. he’s not even touching you but it felt like it. despite his teasing, you get hit face first with a strong waft of his scent. his cologne, you knew the exact type he was wearing. cheap, but long lasting against anyone’s nostrils who takes a first whiff. “it’s been a while since y’er last oil change though, i’d be lyin’ if i said i didn’t miss ya.”

with a quirk of a brow, you murmur up at him, deciding why not to play along. you knew he was most likely teasing but still. “you missed … me?”

“sure,” toji removes his baseball cap, fanning it against the sweat glistening off his bulging muscles that poke through his perfectly sculpted body. he was so fit, you couldn’t help but openly leer at his broad, intense figure. with a sly smile, he leans against your car before humming, taking another hit of his cigar. “not too many pretty faces show up ‘round here. besides, i didn’t forget about our little moment last time.”

your breath gets caught in the back of your throat.

he remembered,

he remembered the little incident the two of you shared. when you came for your last oil change and a battery repair, you also ended up sharing a kiss with toji. it was nothing more, nothing less.

but it was hot, having his tongue shoved down your throat with his big rough hands roaming along the sides of your body. being so pressed up against him, you felt yourself longing for more. in your city, toji was the best mechanic for miles. he we well known, quick, precise, and quite flirty.

you brought out the worst in him that day, and it annoyed you how the steamy, sultry kiss got interrupted by his boss. shiu … something, rich raven hair mirroring the same color as his worker.

“oh y- yeah.” you sheepishly mumble, feeling the tension through the air run thick. you loathed desperately how whenever you were around toji, your stammer would make an appearance. you hated it, it was so embarrassing and he ate it up everytime. toji’s sly gaze lowers and he titters at the cute pullover and skirt you wore before your own eyes trail toward his lips.

his lips,

they were naturally crooked — pink, and that damn slanted scar that remained to slash against the right side of his mouth. you peeped a bit of a growing stubble, but nevertheless he was always well trimmed. toji flashed a grin before he got way close to you. kneeling his head down, he whispers toward you. “oh y- yeah,” he mocks your trembling tone, and he was so close that his musk, his body heat radiates off you completely. “somethin’ tellin’ me you came here for more than just an oil change, that right, baby?”

your heart’s pulsing intensifies at his cunning words. always cutting straight to the chase. he’s so up close, his cologne’s just clogging up your nose by now before your thighs squeeze themselves shut. “yes.”

“yes what, darlin’?” and there’s a hint of jibe in his voice. the moment he grabs your chin gently, you’re ready to lose it right there. toji’s wearing mechanic gloves, the soft padded leather pulling down on your bottom lip playfully. with a coy head tilt, he purses your lips a bit more open. “ah, c’mon. use those pretty words, tell me what ya want.”

your legs, the crevices between them were already starting to slick with moisture.

oh, this couldn’t have been anymore embarrassing. as you meet his jade green eyes, you reply with a tone that comes out far more needy than you originally intended. “i want .. i want you, toji.”

there’s a frisky, playful glint in his eye—as well as the tiny crinkle forming at each twist of his facial expressions. “yeah you do,” and his words were pitched deep, so deep that the timbre lingering underneath his tone sends your spine shivers. “more than a kiss? i’ll hafta charge ya extra, heh.”

still . . it was humor in his voice, you knew he was joking but the heat purring between your thighs only grew. your body was screaming at you, it’s been a while since your last time anyway, the last time you’ve been touched. 

with a nod, murmuring out a faint little, “more than a kiss, ‘toj,” he snickers, closing the awkward distance between you two finally.

the moment his lips crash against yours, everything feels hot. scorching hot — similar to the sahara, his tongue being the water you needed to cool down. the leftover smoke and booze that lingered on his tongue was strong, the second it glided against your buds it tasted stronger. you could feel his smirk creeping against his lips before with two hands, he lifts you up, propping you to sit on the hood of your car. 

it was madly aggressive - teeth clashing, tongues twisting, one taste again and he was addicted.

he made sure to take out his cigarette before hand, squeezing it against his fingers as he’s gradually grinding his hips by you. it’s slow, you could feel his raging boner prod right through his work pants.

it was hard to miss, you couldn’t help but give him a few nosy peeks which he was working on your car to see if he was a packer and he definitely was.

sticky strands of his hair tickle against your forehead as he’s rutting right in you. a free hand makes its way onto your left thigh, slowly dancing his fingers amongst your skin. the moment your legs entrap his slim waist, locking around his torso, he grunts. both lashes were close to touching, breaths were becoming heavy, and you felt his tongue curl around yours. toji was a sloppy yet passionate kisser, and yet— he wanted his tongue to work in other ways. 

and it did, 

your jaw drops open as you’re laid flat on your back, staring at the man with his face shoved deep between your thighs. toji sprawls open your legs, delving his long tongue inside of your slick entrance to get a sweet taste.

gradually, his tongue dips all around your cunt, creating a little swirl before he feels your body twitch in rapture.

“t- tojiiii,” you whine, feeling a bit paranoid at how anyone could just see the two of you.

sure, you were both in a securely locked garage ( at least you hoped ) —but, anyone could just walk in. walk in and see you having your pussy being devoured by one of the most top known mechanics in the city. if you’d have given a rating on his pussy eating skills, it’d be five stars without question. 

he was always so nasty with it— occasionally, with his now bare fingers from removing his gloves, he slides a thumb down your slick.

“look at her, she’s fuckin’ sloppy,” he whispers against your cunt — his warm breath brushes near your folds and you whimper. your voice echoes raw out your throat, ringing through the spacey walls of his garage. this was far better than just an oil change, you were thinking. so so better,

as toji’s still swiping a tongue against your entrance in a circular rotation—nose deep, speaking of nose, it starts to rummage its way against your nub. you gag out a gasp, nearly choking from how out of breath you were with your legs shaking tremendously. with your teeth shattering, he nibbles against your clit, staring you dead in the eyes. “mmf, ‘s fuckin’ good. how generous of you though,” he coos in a gruff tone, easing a single digit inside of your slippery core. “haven’t ate all day ‘n this meal ‘s just what i needed darlin, heh.”

toji’s charisma was simply unmatched.

it was something about him being face first between your legs that made him ten times more attractive.

his hair, it was a bit lengthy but not too much. he grew it out the last time you saw him. a bit of a wolf cut but was neatly trimmed toward his shoulders. it’s rough and unkempt, dark black bangs still running down his eyes. every few seconds, he’s got to whip his head back in vex so his vision isn’t occluded. 

“hnnggh, right there toji. pleaseplease.” you babble out in desperate cries, swallowing your own pathetic pity before savoring the honeyed taste.

a whimper rips out of your throat to where it sounds similar to a gargle. his tongue knows just the right spots to reach. your clitoral hood, he loved to suck on it until that cute scream snatches from your esophagus.

“never tasted a girl so sweet ‘n all my years,” he groans, a single finger still shoved inside. it’s stretching you out more and your back arches against the warm hood of your vehicle.

from side to side,

his head moves and shifts and shakes and you’re about to lose it. in fact, you were already losing it, feeling your legs turn into complete mush. jello even, they felt nonexistent thanks to his sloppy tongue.

whilst he’s buried right between your thighs, the mechanic’s got the smuggest grin that you just wanted to wipe right off his face. 

toji’s so pent up and aroused—he works a regular six to twelve hour shift, it was almost the same situation for you. he can’t remember the last time he’s been … active, albeit he was exhausted. and yet it seemed as if your precious, slick cunt gave him all the needed battery to fuel his energy right back up.

a husky growl vibrates against your pussy and you whine as a hand combs its way into his hair. in the process, your fingers tangle against his strands. your digits - all five of them stroke through his scalp before giving it a brief tug. 

“kinky ‘lil slut, huh,” he grunts, head yanking forward towards your thighs. toji hated the fact that it turned him on. a lot, so much so that his dick twitches in his wrangler rigg jeans. as he’s got you still laid against your parked car, he slurps against your cunt - feeling you pulse right into his mouth. “there’s that cute heartbeat, she wants so much fuckin’ attention today.”

“t- toji, ‘m gonna cum,” you moan, his low words only pushing you further to the edge. barred big hands cling against both sides of your thighs. no longer having a finger inside, he firmly grabs your leg.

you’re quavering,

seeing nothing but splotches of snowy white as he’s slurping up your cunt like a hot dish of pasta. “c- cum, fuck ‘m gonna cum, y- your tongue ‘s goodddd.”

with a low hoarsely chortle, he hums. “careful, doll. cum ‘n i’ll have to add a bit of tax to your bill. plus an extra fee for heh, grease.”

you stare at him with a cute confused expression and he snickers. “aw, ‘m joking, don’t gimme that look,” and with warm lips pressing against your cunt, you mewl out a desperate, shrilling whine.

as the seconds go on, you’re steadily being brung to the teetering orgasmic edge. with your hips bucking against his face, he’s grabbing ahold of waist with his tongue exploring the inner caves of your delicious cunt.

your nub, he continues to flick against it, making your body jerk back against the unmoving vehicle. you whimper and whimper before he shoots you a teasing smile, whistling against your folds. “use those words, darlin’. use ‘em ‘n tell me what you want, yeah.”

“wanna cum- wanna c-cum,” you breathe, feeling the shiver in your jaw. even still, you’re wisping fingers into his strands, gripping it tightly before you’re grinding your cunt against his face.

a snail-like trail of your own clear slick runs down his chin. oh, with the way he slowly pulls his head up to smirk at you, you just wanted to kiss him again. your body’s hanging onto its last and final hinges before you’re spasming, feeling him swat a palm against your pussy thrice. “ngh, toji. wanna cum. please, need it. n- need to cum.”

“i’d beg to differ,” he groans, reaching for the hem of his pants - pulling the heavy piece of clothing down. his dick alone had a bit of weight to it and with murky-like irises, you gawk openly.

with a hand going inside of his pants, he lets off a guttural groan, starting to stroke himself off. a few solid pumps and he’s already sucking his teeth at the almost unbearable friction.

“fuck, y- you don’t ‘need’ shit, little girl,” and he’s multitasking. one hand focusing on your thigh and another on his cock. he’s so hard, he’s so fucking hard and the moving you’re doing against his body - the grinding, it doesn’t make it any better. with a mean slap, he spanks your cunt again before spitting near your folds. “you need it, you need ‘ta cum. right darlin’?”

“y- yes,” you hiccup, white noise deafening your ears continuously. the loooooong, sleazy slurps of his tongue makes you rock more into his mouth, nearly pulling out his strands with your rough, hard grip.

the more you tug and pull against his hair, the more it turns him on. his cock throbs whilst a long vein runs through the very side of his shaft. the center of toji’s thumb brushes against his peeling brief foreskin. “need, i need to cum. please.” you correct yourself, in hopes that he’d let you succumb to your nirvana-filled release.

as your fingers continue to fish through his hair, gathering a nice hold, he starts to make out with your folds. the squelches, they were singing out a cacophony of sloppy sounds. you’re sopping wet so good for him to where your cunt’s just voluntarily cascading on his mouth—cascading down his chin.

with ease, you even drench his stubble with your slick - happily. “go ‘head girl,” he grunts, gazing hungrily at the concoction of strings departing. cobwebs of his saliva mixing along with strings of your slick makes him groan. what a mess. a mess and you were the biggest one possible.

once you come undone, everything’s so hazy. your legs jitter in exhilaration, moaning loudly from the intense palpitation. he licks you clean, lapping up your flavorful juices with his tongue before feeling a few spurts of his own cum paint against his palm. “f- fuck, pretty,” he grunts, each stroke against his hard cock making him grind his teeth together. his jaw tightens, realizing he’d just came with you - all from eating you out. you were shaking still, your climax making your vision turn into a rainbow of color. your eyelids, all you saw was a plethora of colorful tints, slowly jerking your hips forward until you couldn’t anymore. as you move, he guides you to ride out your orgasm, ride it out all on his face. “thaaaat’s it, gimme all of y’er taste, mhm.”

it lasts for seconds, seconds that felt like long, never ending hours. with a sweet elongated battle cry of your own that’s in reality replaced with an ear shattering orgasm, you slump back against your vehicle. 

“such a good girl,” he murmurs, getting up and it’s a concise soreness in his thighs from bending down for that duration of a time. inhaling a breath of fresh air, he inches toward your face. “heh, you look so dumb,” he teases at your state. indeed you were, his tongue had you feral and craving for more. you were still throbbing, his body heat closing the remaining spacey inches between you both before he grabs your chin. “want a taste, do ya?”

“y- yes,” you nod, your own breathing betraying you with how you struggle to maintain easy, singlular breaths.

toji pops his cigarette back into his mouth before taking a long, deep inhale. the smoke burns, and he aligns his dick up against your drooling slit. he didn’t have to do much moving, the skirt you wore made it easy for him to lift the thin piece of fabric up for access. you glance down, and he was so big.

veiny, a heavy fat cock with an even heavier fat base. as the end of the lit cigarette sticks between his teeth, his brows contorts into a furrow. 

toji coos quietly, the mushroom-tip of his dick sweltering inside against your warm heated core. “open wide, babygirl,” he huffs, a thumb peeling down your lip once more. his eye contact had your pussy twitching profusely. it was so intimate, you felt the arising tension reach its peak. not even hesitating, you part your lips open, leaving your mouth open ajar for him. “good. nice ‘n wide for toji,” he refers to himself and you watch with doe eyes as he blows an airy puff of smoke right into your mouth. tepid lips hover against your own, and he’s so close that he can almost smell your longing arousal. you moan at the feeling of his tip easing its way into your cunt, creating squelchy sloshing sounds of acceptance. “there we go baby, nice ‘n easy.” he whispers, and toji finally kisses you. 

you moan, feeling his dick breeze its way into your sopping cunt, the stretch already presenting itself toward your walls. it’s a tight stretch and you moan, throbbing from the way you’re opening up for him. as the friction sets against your twitching muscle, you whine, running your tongue down his to taste the brewing variations of saliva and smoke into your mouth. it’s so sloppy, his tongue game was just improperly risqué. 

fithly, coarse..

with your ass sitting directly on the cool running hood of your vehicle, he’s continuing to drive his dick straight into you.

you moan as his lips attack against yours, savoring your candied flavor. it was something about you that he couldn’t get enough of. toji’s body - it was broad and big. as he towers over your frame, he starts to thrust a bit forward.

“ughh,” he bites down on your lip, dark mean eyes meeting yours as he then opens them.

the stretch had you gasping for air once his lips shortly break away. already, you missed them. he sees the pout and he chuckles before his head tosses itself back. as his lips pull away, strands of spit abruptly leave, saying its goodbyes to each mouth. “so fuckin’ — shit.” he swears, so lost in your swallowing walls that he forgets his initial sentence. 

already, his eyes were starting to flicker back.

rolling back,

it was sexy to witness, especially up close. toji’s cock dives into your cunt further and further before finally, he bottoms out. once he’s reached the hilt - the very hilt, you whine, throwing your arms over his tense shoulders carelessly.

“fuck me, f- fuck me, toji. please.” you stammer out in pathetic babbles, the repetitive twitch in your pussy making him all the more harder. your pleas almost fall on deaf ears before you feel the veins pulse down his cock. it spasms inside you and if you weren’t as wet before, you were certainly wet now.

he’s just so hard, your walls grip and envelope around his length as you bite on his shoulder. 

“didn’t know we’re on bitin’ terms now, heh,” he attempts to joke, one hand gently squeezing onto your waist. his touch, you never failed to lean into his touch. with a needy gasp, his hefty dick tucks its way into the insides of your cunt. your goopy walls squelch and squelch, shrieking out a lewd harmony of wails. you’re so wet - already, his base starts to get painted from your slick. you moan, licking a stripe near the crook up neck. he snickers, feeling the moisture of your tongue collide against his skin. “jus’ so fuckin’ hot,” he gruffs, staring at your already fucked dumb expression. “mhm, such a nasty girl. havin’ me fuck ya on y’er car.”

he’s stretching you out so good, its as if your cunt was a gymnast — easily bending and breaking, stretching in and out. toji’s dick was fat - the foreskin that’s glued against his tip stimulates the insides of your wet core. you whine once more, clinging onto his beefy body as he’s fucking you on the hood.

pitiful babbles of mercy whisper in his ears, your ankles and heels brushing alongside the red lines of his back. toji was sweating a lot more from the constant moving — you, your body jolting up against your car and his sharp, deadly hits going in and out of you. each piston has you weak, stupid even.

despite his mechanic scented musk with a sprinkle of inexpensive cologne, it was still alluring to you. you throbbed as he continued to jerk his hips against the same spot. your toes, all five of them on both feet curl in awe before you start to spasm.

“y- yes, please. right there, right there tojiiii.” and you probably sounded so pathetic but you could care less. your face was all scrunched up and twisting in blissful pleasure as he’s plunging into you at full force. his rhythm, his pace . . it was ruthless. 

safe to say, you were addicted.

cock drunk, easy - just like that. with a secure grip still on your hip, he’s reeling you back with such ease. strands of saliva starts to pour out from the side corners of your mouth and he slyly smiles. “oh, you just wanna be a messy customer today, huh. such a mess,” and with a flick of his thumb, he swipes your spit clean. he does this only to pop the same finger into his mouth, relishing in your glacé, syrupy taste. “so sweet, ‘m gonna need more though.”

your knees embarrassingly buckle. your weeping cunt sobs for more and more as his mean, degrading thrusts is just leaving you utterly dumbfounded. your mouth was open, tiny little pants of air escaping out into the form of a mere croak. toji’s weighty dick thoroughly plummets into your insides with all of his might to where you’re already visibly stupid.

each mocking thrust makes your stomach churn. he’s so deep, his tip located in every area. you’re stretched, worn thin, and the minute his cockhead greets your cervix with a french kiss, you shriek sweetly.

“oh my g- goddd, there please, toji, tojiiii,” and you were just babbling out anything at this point.

it was adorable, every few seconds, the mechanic had to swipe the back of his hand against his forehead. the remaining few droplets of perspiration that resided underneath his bangs was a lot. as beads of sweat race down his face, sable irises meeting your dumbed down state and you moan, nails now clawing into his shoulders. “f- fuck, ‘s good. ‘s fuckin’ big.”

“big just for you, baby,” he groans against your ear - the fat of his balls mashing against your entrance making you dizzy. you’re about to break again, the smell in the air was almost potent.

with his cologne, the mixture of his sweat, and the burning hot gas fumes of your car, you felt like you were floating. your cunt was being stuffed with delirious inches of cock and you wouldn’t have it any other way. toji grabs your chin, pressing a wet kiss against your mouth before his tempo accelerates. “shittt, grippin’ on me so good, ‘m gonna cum, darlin’.”

at his throaty words, you meet his eyes before burying your face into his neck for about the nth time again. the only words he could hear you whine into his neck was, “inside, inside me, ‘toj.”

“so y’er a creampieee kinda girl,” he sneers in amusement - watching as you’re slowly being taken to your inevitable rapturous rapture.

you’re whimpering, taking in each of his deep, pivotal strokes. toji brings his hands toward your waistline, skimming his fingertips against the curvature before nibbling on your earlobe. “careful, sweets... ‘s gonna be a nice big load. can ya be a good girl ‘n take that much? don’t wanna give ya too much of a full, heh.”

if it wasn’t for his puns — you’d smack him, but you were too cock drunk to think, let alone comprehend. 

“i can take it,” you nod desperately, a cute tremor in your voice as you’re making haste with your own hips against his. everything’s so sharp. “fuck, f- fuck me, right there.”

toji found it cute how repetitive your sweet nothings were - the same endless chatter flowing past your lips. “yeahhh.” he jibes, although his words were in the form of a question. you grab against his wrist while your slippery soaked cunt braces for the parching, hot fill.

three thrusts, 

three slow deep thrusts and he was at his peak. leisurely, as toji’s cock deeply into the pits of you, almost reaching your tummy - you feel a few hot spurts shoot into you raw. toji groans, his voice echoing through the garage. he was whipped. your expression was so cute, hooded droopy eyes and an abashed little grin.

his swollen fat tip was downright rude with the way it scrapes against your pussy, thrashing all inside as if it knows the place.

it’s so much, colossal big hands of his grab onto your thigh, and he leans in to gently pierce his teeth into your skin. sucking against your tender flesh, like honey—like nectar, he grunts his own gruff climax into your shoulder. 

his voice was low - his adam’s apple bobs at his actions, feeling an unforeseeable wave crash over him at once. it’s intense and he’s just eating up your delicious fervor that was right in front of him.

“t- toji,” you breathe, your arms still slung over his shoulders. easily, he’s jerking away from attentions.

toji wasn’t fully thrusting anymore, but he still had a decent pace of pumps. his fresh, warm cum emits into your cunt like how a volcano erupts. gushing into you, it’s hot and thick like lava, warm and sticky like magma.

you were chasing your breaths but failed to surpass them in the fictitious lewd race. it’s so hot inside, you were almost positive a few slimy spurts of toji’s cum exudes up on the hood of your car. you’ve never felt so full, his chest heaves and yours deflates in harmony. 

with both bodies were in sync and casual harmony, he grunts before leaning in to kiss you. his now flaccid dick was just idly inside of your swollen, greedy cunt. throbbing even still, you rub the backs of your ankles behind his slim waist before tilting your head back. the kiss was far more passionate this time.

if you knew mechanics fucked this good, maybe, just maybe you’d come for an oil change more often.

except, toji didn’t just add the new oil into the engine of your car, he added his own new oil into your sopping, drenched cunt. 

“fuck, baby,” he groans, feverish breaths titillating against the inner areas of your neck.

you pulse from any movement he makes, clinging onto him tightly like a koala. he has a flashy half girn, slowly pulling out his dick to see the mess. your cunt was overflowed to the max - so much cum, so so much. 

toji licks his lips, the tip of it grazing against his fleshed scar as he peers at your pussy’s opening. the way your entrance slowly spitting out his thick, velvety ropes of cum due to its fullness makes him grunt.

inside, it was lukewarm—oozing out of your entrance before you lean back against your hood. “mhm, ‘s still pourin’ out. guess i was so pent up from today, barely had any time to jerk off.”

“i didn’t have to know that.” you huff at his teasing, trying to catch your breaths. your full lungs felt like they were about to collapse. 

toji helps you off your car - although, he wanted more and so did you. surprisingly, he even cleans the hood off for you. as you’re back on your feet, sore and all, he asks for your number. “you’re gonna ask me out or something?”

“maybe, hold still darlin,” and your interest peaked, wondering why he wanted you to be still.

you turn, heaving a bit of shifting before toji bends down. you shudder a bit, feeling what feels like a cold marker starting to drag and scrape down against the right cheek of your ass. you could hear low, raspy laughter as he’s writing on your rear. with a pout, you wait as he’s continuing to write what you assume to be his number onto your skin with a sharpie.

the smell smolders against your nose quickly before he finishes, popping the black cap into his mouth. “there, call me after the hours of,” and he pauses, glancing at his watch. “hm, eleven pm.”

“thank you….” you murmur, that simple action making you throb again before your eye twitches. you make your way towards your car and then you feel a breeze through your legs. eyes widening, you turn towards the mechanic. “um- my panties? i kind of need them.”

with a sly grin, he pulls his work jeans back up before humming. “um, you kind of don’t,” he mocks your sentence, and you almost moan at the feeling of his hand squeezing your ass. toji then spanks it, the sharpie marker of his number imprinted on your skin slightly smearing against his palm.

“darlin, consider y’er panties as payment. ‘s on the house,” and you gulp, meeting his viridescent, green eyes. he looked hungry for more - that natural smirk compressing against his lips never once fading. toji brushes a thumb against your cheek before leaning against your car. “come back anytime for a fill.”

he hums cheekily at you through the mirror, closing your car door once you get in, starting the ignition. with your panties in hand, he shoots you a nod. “i’ll make it extra creamy next time. no charge, baby.”

[lowkeyremi]

MARKS ! a. miya x fem!reader

"Atsumu Miya," You gasp out, looking at your neck in the mirror.

"Yes'm?" He replies lazily, laying in the bed scrolling through his Instagram feed, without a care in the world.

It takes a moment for you to get your words out because, what the actual hell...? There are multiple, dark, marks on your neck.

"Holy fuck, do you want people to think you're abusing me or something?" That catches his attention immediately, but once he sees what you're referring to, he lies back down with a smirk.

"M'sorry that I love my wife and I want everyone to know." Oh, they'll know alright, and then you'll be on the receiving end of the teasing.

"I know, but, this is just downright ridiculous. It looks like you tried to fucking eat me." Atsumu laughs at that, and decides to get out of the bed to come take a look for himself.

The warmth of his bare chest seers through the tank top you have on and you can feel his steady heart beat. He, not so subtly, inhales the scent of your conditioner in your hair. "Mm, yeah. I did a number on ya, huh?"

You meet his beautiful brown eyes through the mirror and he looks heaven sent. His hair is all over the place, he's got a few marks from you, on his neck and chest, and that stupid smile that you fell in love with. How could you possible stay mad at him?

"You sure as hell did, and I have work in a little." He hums in thought as he snakes his arms around you waist.

"Why don'tcha just cover it with some makeup?" Oh if you could you would... you don't even think the best concealer could hide these marks.

"If it was just a singular hickey I would, but I don't think this can be covered without being super noticeable." Atsumu tries and fails to stifle a chuckle.

"Looks like ya gotta stay home today, huh?"

"Not happening, I have a super important presentation today." The both of you examine your neck together trying to figure out the best way to tackle it.

"Turtleneck?" Atsumu suggests, rubbing his hands up and down your sides in a comforting way.

"That would work it if it wasn't so hot out."

"But yer gonna be inside, giving a presentation..." He reasons.

"Ugh, turtleneck it is, I guess." The blond presses a kiss to your cheek, and you swat his face away. You're not mad anymore, but it's still his fault you'll have to wear a turtleneck in 80 degree weather.

[lovelivision]

FLIRTY SKIRTY ♡

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: ꒰𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞꒱ fushiguro toji/reader, geto suguru/reader, gojo satoru/reader, kamo choso/reader

𝐖𝐂: 5.8k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: wearing a skirt around your boyfriend? you better be ready for some delicious consequences!!

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, dirty talk, (slight) overstimulation, multiple orgasms, fingering, p in v sex, cunnilingus, creampie, f!reader, no use of y/n, the typical depravity to be expected of me atp <3

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ★

Wearing a skirt around Toji is like his kryptonite, you know it, and he knows you know too because every time he’s even a tiny bit annoyed by something you’ve said or done, there you are, suddenly wearing your favourite little skirt. Prancing around the apartment and practically rubbing it in his face how good you look as the material flutters with your every step.

Toji sits on the couch as you move from room to room tidying up, his leg bouncing as he pretends to not notice you. The argument was stupid, and you weren’t even completely in the wrong but here you are trying to tempt him into forgiving you even though he would’ve been over it by dinner.

It’s not like you particularly need or want his forgiveness right now though, you just know that the sex you have while he’s annoyed and unbelievably turned on is always the best sex you have. So, yeah, you both would’ve been fine and over the disagreement in a few hours but why waste the opportunity to turn your boyfriend on when it’s right in front of you?

He doesn’t last long which is entirely predictable of him, his hands reaching for you as you pass by, resolve quickly snapping. A slight gasp slips past your lips as he tugs you into his lap, landing on him with a huff, thighs straddling his.

His lips press against your skin hurriedly, teeth nipping at your neck lightly, leaving behind small marks. Hands large on your hips, grabbing and pulling at your flesh, creeping under the skirt you’ve been flaunting yourself in.

“Toji, slow down,” you laugh breathlessly at his impatience.

He grumbles against you, “Your fault, wearing that stupid skirt–”

“–You like this skirt,” you half-heartedly pout back.

“Mhm, like you better out of it,” he snarks back.

You smile knowingly at him, “I think we both know that’s not true.”

His tongue clicks at you, not able to deny something you both know to be obviously true, “You’re gonna kill me.”

“Does that mean you’re not angry anymore?” You caress his face, thumb tracing his lower lip lightly.

“You do look damn good in this skirt, doll.” His hand creeps up your inner thigh, under aforementioned skirt, “And as a bonus,” his smile grows, “Ease of access.”

His thumb presses against your covered cunt, rubbing right on top of your clit, “You’re such a – mmph – tease, Toji.”

He feigns innocence, “Me? I think we both know it’s you who is the real tease.”

“Do we?” You question his logic.

“Yeah,” he’s pulling your panties to the side as he answers, fingers slipping through your wet slit, “We do.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, becoming wobbly, “Proving – hah – yourself wrong right now.”

“You talk too much, doll,” he prods at your entrance, slowly slipping a single digit inside, “I’d really rather hear you moan instead.”

Your head tilts towards him, biting into the material of his shirt as he begins fucking his finger into you, thumb circling your clit so perfectly you could swear you’re seeing stars. A drawn-out moan stutters from your chest, whined and pathetic for how little he’s done. His chuckle is self-satisfied, clearly already getting exactly what he wanted.

“That’s it, just what I wanted to hear.”

One of your own hands slips to the front of his trousers, cupping his very prominent erection, a gruff moan stifled from him at your touch. “Toji, please–”

“Oh? You want my cock, doll?” Tone smug but clearly slowly losing his fucking mind at how your hand squeezes him, thumb teasing the tip of his dick, “You know you gotta ask for it.”

“Please – hah –”

A second finger is added to his first, stretching you wider, scissoring his digits before slipping deep. Rubbing deliciously against your walls, crooking towards him, your slick dripping down his fingers towards his wrist.

He hums at you, gaze focused on how his hand has disappeared under your skirt, “Hmm? I didn’t quite catch that?”

“Please fuck me,” words panted, struggling to get out a full sentence with the way he crooks his fingers just right every time you open your mouth.

He slips his digits from you, keeping your panties tugged to the side, “Anything for you,” he coos sweetly.

Taking initiative, you pull him from his pants, his cock flushed a pretty pink, tip leaky. He shudders a breath at your grip on him, thumb swiping teasingly over where he’s most sensitive. Shuffling in closer, you hover over his dick, taking your time to torment him like he did you.

“Come on, doll, taking your sweet time,” he groans at you.

“Oh? You want my pussy?” You mimic his words from earlier, “You gotta ask for it.”

He chuckles humourlessly at you, baring his teeth for a moment before asking begrudgingly, “Give me your sweet little pussy, doll.” He tacks on for good measure, “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby,” you repeat his sentiments again, tone light and singsong.

He grins at you, tight lipped, “I really do prefer it when you’re moaning–”

Words getting cut off as you sink down on him, cunt greedily taking his cock, “I feel the – mmph – same,” you smile back, mouth dropping open at how his hips thrust upwards.

His head rolls onto the back of the couch, eyes glazed as he looks down at where his dick is stuffing you full. View blocked by the cute skirt you’re sporting, the fact you’re taking him so perfectly and nobody would be able to tell from a first glance making him stupid. Dick twitching inside you as he works himself up at the thought of fucking you in a room while everyone else was none the wiser.

Not missing his gaze, you reach for the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to show him how you’re sitting on his cock. Cunt full and fucked open by him, a guttural groan comes from his chest, like he’s been gut punched. The way you’ve lifted your skirt to show off for him driving him wild, he’s shooting up quickly, arms wrapping around you and pulling your body close to his.

“Fucking hell, doll, you really are gonna kill me,” he whispers in your ear, breath hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“Toji– ah!–”

Words cut off by how he starts fucking up into you relentlessly, lewd squelching noises of him ruining you filling the room. Pussy obscenely wet and taking him so well, your hips meeting his thrusts eagerly. His arms wrapped around you firmly, his hold on you being leveraged to use you to fuck himself. He’s taking control of your pace, making you keep up with him.

He’s in complete control, hips wild as he bucks up into you while also pulling you down into him. Your head tucks into him, fingers pulling at the material of his shirt. Gasps and moans pouring from you freely at how he hammers into you over and over. You’re not even sure you’re thinking let alone speaking, anything you might be saying completely unintelligible.

“Can’t even stay mad at you – hnn – not in this – hah – fffucking skirt,” his hands move to your ass, grabbing at your flesh, pulling you open as he keeps insistently fucking into your tight pussy.

His groans reverberate through his chest, you can feel it with how you’re pressed up to him, every sound he makes pricks at your skin. Turned on beyond belief as you let yourself get fucked blissfully, eyes rolling as you drool onto his stupidly tight t-shirt.

Getting exactly what you wanted from him, his unrestrained pace and desperate thrusts just what you needed. Cunt pulsing around him obscenely as your orgasm gets closer and closer, tasting it on the tip of your tongue.

“So close aren’t you?” he sounds completely fucked out, words almost slurring with how good it all feels, “Need it, doll – hah – wanna feel the way you fucking squeeze – mmph – me as you coat my dick.”

“Toji, feels so– oh! Feels so fucking good,” you cry out at him, eyes beginning to water.

He bites out at you, “I know it does– fuck– I know it does.”

“I– I’m gonna–”

He smiles bright against your skin, “That’s fucking it, let go for me.”

Your body nearly locks up at the force of which your orgasm washes over you, whines leaving you pitifully as your pussy spasms around him, tight as you cum all over his cock. Toji moans at how you grip him, his face turning to the side, teeth latching into the skin of your shoulder. Biting down and leaving behind a mark, his moans stifled into your skin. His own orgasm wracking over him, triggered by yours.

He's cumming so deep inside you, dick twitching as he lets himself fill you with his seed. Hips not stopping as he keeps fucking up into you, his cum leaking from you and down into his lap. Forcing the two of you into overstimulation but not stopping, not until you’re whimpering at him.

“Toji– too much,” you pant against his chest.

He pulls you back so he can look you in the eye, you can see when he notices how wrecked you are by the way his gaze lights up, proud of himself. Your cheeks tear stained and drool caught on the corner of your lip.

His hand is reaching up, thumb rubbing at the spit in the corner of your mouth, “You look really pretty right now, all fucked full, dumb look on your face while in that fucking skirt.”

You smile stupidly at him, “So you’re not angry anymore?”

“Be careful, doll, if this is how you apologise I might start pointless arguments with you more often.” He’s grinning at you like an idiot, like he might actually start a fight just to see you in this skirt again.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 ★

The feeling of eyes on you has been prevalent all day, specifically, Geto’s eyes have been on you all day. Not able to make nearly any move without the feeling of him tracking you closely, you don’t even know what’s wrong with him or what you did. The only thing you do know is that your boyfriend has been watching you very intently today.

As you fold your laundry you can feel him following your movements, he’s watching you from the bed, observing how you carefully fold and put away your clothes. Normally it wouldn’t bother you but you’re beginning to feel a little unsettled by all his quiet staring.

Without sparing a glance, you continue what you’re doing, “Are you feeling okay today?”

“Hmm?” he hums at you distractedly before registering what you’ve said, “Yeah I’m fine, why?”

“You’ve been staring at me all day,” your brow raises at him.

He throws back at you, “I can’t gaze at my girlfriend?”

“Not when you’re starting to freak her out… no.”

You don’t notice him getting off the bed, his movements quiet, only realising when he’s suddenly behind you and his hands are dragging over your body. Groping you over your clothes, his lips leaving soft kisses against your neck.

Bending your head down, you give him more access, “Ahhh, I see what’s happened now.”

“And what’s that?” He sounds amused.

Spinning in his grip, you loop your arms around his neck, “You’re looking to get some, huh?”

Geto laughs at your words, a pretty sound that makes your heart flutter.

“Am I wrong?” You pout back at him.

“Nope, dead on.” He kisses your lips softly before picking you up and carrying you over to your bed.

You can’t help the giggles that slip as he carries you over to and drops you on top of your mattress, bouncing slightly with the force used. He’s undressing in front of you, and you follow his lead, pulling off your shirt before reaching for your skirt. Not getting far though because his hands are reaching out and stopping you.

“Keep the skirt on, pretty.”

His request flusters you but you nod at him, keeping it on like he asked. Your panties on the other hand are being tugged off by him in one swift motion. He’s moving so quickly, clearly impatient as he manoeuvrers you into the position he wants.

“Hands and knees, baby– tha’s it,” He’s quiet after that, apparently admiring the view.

“Sugu, what are you– ah!”

Just as you started asking him what he was doing, his fingers slip through your folds, spreading your slick all over your cunt. His fingers lingering at your slit, enjoying the way your knees buckle before pushing into your entrance. It’s hard to keep your noises contained, your arms struggling to keep yourself up at how he stuffs you with them.

Not lingering long before he’s pulling his digits from you, using your wetness to coat his cock. Soft wet clicking sounds coming from behind you at how he leisurely strokes himself.

“You’re so fucking wet already,” he notes crudely, a sick kind of joy in his tone, almost like he means it as a compliment.

You can’t even tell him to stop being a tease because he’s swiping his dick through your folds, probing at your hole, gliding to your clit and back again. Repeating his motions, only so he can make you twitch and have your breath catching in your throat. The small whimpers you let out his favourite song.

“You’re being – mmph – cruel,” Your voice is pathetic, and you can’t help it, he got you all worked up only to be mean.

He slaps his dick against your pussy a few times, “I’m sorry, baby, you want me to fuck you now?”

Such a condescending tone, if you weren’t already on all fours and needy you’d tell him to shove it, “Please.”

“Not very convincing…”

“Sugu–” you stop short, whine bubbling in your throat, “Please~”

“So cooperative,” he coos at you.

At your pitiful plead, he pushes into your tight cunt, stretching you open on his cock. You jolt forward at it, arms barely holding up, the stretch tingling up your spine. Moans tumble from your lips as he rocks into you, his dick sitting heavy inside you.

Geto’s cock jerks inside you, his head dizzy at how you feel wrapped around him. Pussy so snug it’s making his teeth clench, your skirt bunches around your waist. The sight of his dick shoved inside your hole while you’re wearing it making his heart pound, barely able to focus with the thumping in his ears.

He’s so still and it’s driving you wild, your walls pulsing around him, your hips wiggling back to hopefully get his attention. It works, he’s pulling back oh so slowly, letting you savour the hot drag of his cock as it leaves your needy cunt. Not so gentle on the way back in, hips thrusting forward harshly, the air knocking out of you as your arms finally give in.

Back arched meanly, your hands gripping the sheets. The new angle has your breathing speed up, suddenly so much needier. You spread your legs further apart and push back, your pussy desperate for more.

He laughs breathlessly at the sight, a single hand pressing into the arch in your back, “Someone’s – hah – eager.”

You grind back into him, “N–need it– hnn– Sugu!”

A shudder runs down his spine at the want in your tone, not expecting you to be so needy. Feeling benevolent and just as desperate as you, he starts a harsh pace. His cock drilling into your gushing hole, the sloppy sounds of him fucking into you the only thing heard aside from your shared moans.

You keep trying to fuck back onto him, his hand holding down harder as he hisses through his teeth, “J–just fuckin take what I give, greedy little thing.”

He’s pinned you so you can’t wiggle back onto him even if you want to, his pace feeling so much more brutal when you’re forced to just take it. Eyes rolling with how he manages to hit every spot inside you perfectly, fat cock reaching the right spots without even having to try. Drooling onto the bed sheets with the pleasure running down your spine.

Geto can’t take his eyes off how your ass jiggles every time he stuffs himself back into your pretty pussy, hypnotised by how your cunt bludges while taking him. Dick so unbelievably hard as your skirt ruffles around your waist, moving with each thrust back inside your tight heat.

You can’t think properly, brain too foggy to even verbalise your oncoming orgasm. Not that he needed a warning, fully aware of how close you are by how you shake and your walls grip him impossibly tight. His fingers reach around to thrum at your clit, making you finish suddenly. Somehow your back arching even deeper, your whines pitchy as you cry into the sheets.

The feel of your cunt convulsing around him triggering his own end, pulling out and stroking himself. Just so he can cum all over your ass and skirt, the material no doubt ruined by the sheer amount he’s managed to cum all over it. Twisted pleasure filling him at having coated that pretty little skirt in his cum, proof of how diabolically he fucked you in it.

Knees giving out, you flop onto the bed, head spinning in your come down. Everything feels fuzzy, a lovely kind of fuzzy. “You’re putting away the rest of the laundry for ruining my skirt.”

Geto leans down, front to your back, pressing kisses to your shoulders, “Worth it.”

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 ★

Today had been a nice day out with Gojo, visiting your favourite café and going shopping afterwards. The weather was perfect, and you’d found some really cute goodies while out. The only thing of special note aside from Gojo’s insistent compliments on how good you looked was his otherwise uncharacteristic quiet.

Normally so ready to tease and talk about absolutely nothing replaced with a quiet and soft blush. Daydreaming while you ate, off in the clouds as you walked ahead of him on the streets, he seemed to be overall a little spacey today. It’s endearing albeit concerning, something clearly taking up all his thoughts.

Even in the elevator up to his apartment floor he’s not quite all there, though a little more fidgety, something you read as being keen to get home. You feel a little guilty for having such a nice time if he’s been waiting to get home the whole day, a fact that’s almost cemented when at the door he sighs frustratedly as he struggles to find the right key.

Cautiously, you take them from him and easily navigate to the right key, unlocking and opening the door. The apartment warm and empty as you step through the threshold. Once you’re through the door, Gojo is hastily shucking off his shoes and dropping all your bags. Impatiently waiting for you to take off your shoes.

As soon as they’re off and you’re bending back up straight, he’s on you. Lips hot against your skin, messy in how he kisses your mouth. Tongue so quick to push in and brush up against yours, suddenly so dizzy at the speed of which he’s moved. Your hands brace on his broad shoulders, shocked by his need, taking you off guard completely.

Pulling back, he speaks between kisses on your neck, “You looked so fucking pretty today, so pretty, beautiful!”

“W–what’s gotten into you?”

“You.” He huffs against you, “You got into me.” His hand trails up your leg and under your skirt, “You and this damn skirt.”

He’s so flustered, a pretty shade of pink dancing along his cheeks, hungry look in his gaze. Suddenly all his daydreaming and lingering behind makes a whole lot more sense. He walks you backwards until you hit the wall, resting against it. Hand dancing along the waistband of your panties under your skirt.

“Gojo–”

“–So mean…” he pouts.

“Satoru…” A force of habit to use his last name, still not quite used to the switch, “…Did you at least have a nice time out?” Still feeling a little worried he didn’t.

“I had a fantastic time,” he smiles, “Loved thinking about fucking you in this skirt the whole day…” His fingers slip into your panties, “…And now I’m going to have a fantastic time making that reality.”

Quick to circle around your clit maddeningly, your head knocking back against the wall with the stimulation. Soft and pleased hum coming from him at your reaction, always so happy at how sensitive you are, it makes it easier for him to drive you insane.

“You are so cute,” he compliments again, “Are you gonna let me fuck you here in the entry way?”

As much as you try for them not to, your words still come out a little wobbly, “I– hnn– whatever y–you want~”

“So good to me,” he sounds proud, of you or himself you can’t tell.

He rewards you by dipping his fingers down to your hole, almost pushing inside. You wiggle your hips down into his hand, desperate to be filled, his teasing beginning to be too much. All worked up and ready to be fucked but he has different plans.

“Want you to cum first,” he tuts, “Want it extra messy when I fuck you.”

After this long, you’d think he wouldn’t fluster you so much, but his words have you bristling, face burning at his comment. His fingers draw back to your clit and repeat his earlier motions, though he gives you more pressure this time, building you up so carefully, as if  brick by brick.

Your legs shake under you, starting to struggle to hold yourself firmly with how good it feels. So quick to get you close, it’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to make you cum. Chest stuttering as you struggle to draw in a steady breath, soft moans interrupting the motion.

“G– Satoru, I’m so close,” Your lower lip shakes with your words.

His eyes glint, excitement in his expression, “Good. Cum.”

Your insides pull tight, stomach doing flips as he insistently rubs over your clit, not changing a single thing about how he’s touching you. Head lolling on your shoulders as your fingers dig into his shoulders, legs shaking so much more as you struggle to keep hold of him. Mostly being supported now by his free hand on your hip. Orgasm washing over you, eyes unseeing for a moment as your hearing goes dull.

Cunt contracting around nothing, pitiful whines falling from you at the disappointment, always feeling so much better to cum around him. He doesn’t grace you with much of a come down, ripping your panties off before tugging down his pants just enough to pull his cock out of them. He’s so hurried, you’re surprised he was so patient when he’d been daydreaming about fucking you the whole day. Your skirt is bunched around your waist as he lifts you up, guiding you to lock your legs behind him.

He sounds so ruined already, “I don’t think I can be patient, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

One of your hands leaves his shoulder and slips into his hair, gently scratching at his scalp, “Tha’s okay.”

“I’m in love with you,” he moans, his tip dragging through your folds.

Your cum leaving you so slick, dripping down your thighs and onto his dick as he runs it between your pussy lips. He doesn’t think he can physically handle anymore teasing, choosing instead to angle himself at your entrance. Giving you one final glance to make sure you’re okay before stretching you open, his cock splitting you damn near in half as he spears you with it.

Gojo almost folds into you at the initial feel of your snug cunt sucking him in, guttural groan leaving him. He’s trying so hard to go slow, to not give you too much at once but it’s really hard when you have such a greedy pussy. His dick twitches pathetically inside you, so sensitive from how hard and desperate he’s been.

With borderline hearts in his eyes, he huffs, “Think I– fuck– I’m in love with your cunt, sweetie.”

You bite your lip as you lock down, watching the way he’s sliding into you, pussy budging around his big cock.

“I– hah– love you, too, ‘Toru.” It’s meant to be facetious, but it loses it’s meaning when you’re moaning so pitifully for him.

The nickname you use has him stuffing you to the brim all at once, his dick sitting deep inside you. He almost purrs with how snugly you squeeze him, all wet and tight and so so perfect. If he had even a little bit less self-control he’d have cum in you just from being balls deep. Feeling so sensitive to every reaction he pulls from you, abs pulling at how you flutter around him, the cause of it being you looking down at how deep he’s in you.

Just to tease you, he pulls out so slowly, both of you watching how shiny his cock is. Coated in your previous orgasm, he shudders at it, jerking as he pulls out.

“Now the fun part,” he winks at you before shoving himself back in quickly, the force of it nearly knocking the breath from you.

Grateful for his hands on your thighs because you don’t have faith in your ability to cling to him. His pace is relentless, desperation that reflects his patient waiting for this moment. Fucking you so perfectly, to the point you can’t speak. Only thing leaving you are moans and his name, all slurred and barely comprehensible.

It’s obscenely messy how he fucks into you, your thighs wet, his dick slick, exactly how he wanted it. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your sweet little pussy making his brain buzz, high coming on so quick that he can’t help but feel a little disappointed, wanting to stuff you full forever. Not ready to part from you.

His thumb reaches for your sensitive clit, your body flinching at it, too much too soon but he needs you to cum again, he needs to feel it around him this time. Easily pulling a second orgasm from you like this, your whole body trembling in his arms, eyes rolling as you coat his dick with your cum.

Big dopey smile on his face as you finish around him, continuing to play with your clit just to watch you jolt in his hold, finding it adorable. Eventually pulling back when you pout at him, all dazed and bordering on overstimulation.

“Sorry, sweetie,” his head falls back for a moment, almost whining, “Y–you just look so– hah– fuck– cute shaking while I fuck you.”

“Cum please,” you murmur, voice weak, “’Toru, I wan’ it.”

“Ohh you’ll get it– hnn–” His voice cutting off with his orgasm.

Stuffing himself inside you, hot and deep as he pumps you full of his cum, hips grinding into yours to ride out his pleasure. Cumming so much that he’s leaking from your hole, down his cock and onto his pants and then the floor. He’s made a proper mess, just like he wanted.

Fucked out, he grins at you, “Round two in the bedroom?”

He’s insatiable…

𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ★

Cooking with Choso is a pleasant evening activity, prepping dinner together as you chat about your days. Something you’re happily doing, recounting your activities today and paying no mind to your boyfriends distracted chopping. Not noticing how he’s checking you out in your new skirt, one you hadn’t yet worn around him, he knows because if you had he’d have gone fucking wild ages ago.

“New skirt?” He cuts you off.

“Hmm?” You’re confused for a moment, “Oh, yeah, I got it the other day. Do you like it?” You step away from the bench and spin for him, showing it off.

A light blush dusts his cheeks at how you show it off for him, “Yeah… you look really pretty.”

It’s your turn to feel flustered at his compliment, going back to what you were doing before you spun for him.

A little after you’ve prepped everything, he’s hanging off you, leaving kisses to your neck. His breath against your skin sending a shudder down your spine. Turning to face him, you indulge in making out with him, his tongue licking into your mouth, humming as he does. His hands wander slightly, growing provocative in how he’s touching you. Small moan pulling from you at how he’s groping at you, at how insistently he’s kissing you.

Suddenly he’s dropping to his knees, his eyes glassy as he begs, “Lemme put my mouth on you, please.” Hands already pushing your skirt up, face pressing between your legs.

“I– okay, Cho, take what you need,” You offer in a comforting voice, not expecting his need.

Nose to your panties, he inhales your scent, purring with it. Pleased with how wet for him you already are, pressing his tongue to your cunt through your panties. The material soaking with his saliva and moulding to your pussy lips, his tongue beginning to lick at you. Spreading your folds with it, your pleasure muted as he lightly licks over your clit.

The dull pleasure making you feel insane, wanting so badly for him to remove your underwear, wanting his hot tongue against your sensitive skin. Something he seems unwilling to give you yet, you’re not sure if he’s teasing himself or you more by doing this. Your hands brace against the bench top behind you, needing stability, already knowing he’s going to have you a mess in a few moments.

Your panties are coated, wet and sticking to your cunt with his drool and your slick. Face hot as you watch him suck at the material of them, his eyes already so dazed and unfocused, drunk on your pussy and he’s not even had the chance to put his mouth directly on it. When you put this skirt on today you had no idea you would be torturing your poor boyfriend with it, never having seen him this depraved and horny.

Dark spot seeping into his pants where his tip rests, so turned on he’s leaking into them, precum coating his clothes in a desperate display. Heart leaping in your chest at the realisation that you’ve done this to him.

“So beautiful, always so beautiful, so cute in your skirt…” His praises are murmured and slurred as he continues to lap at your cunt through your panties.

“Cho~” you whine at him, “Please take them off.”

He barely even pulls his mouth from you, just enough to rip the soaked article from your person before his tongue is lapping at your slit directly. Loud and obscene whine leaving him, pitchy moan leaving you too. The feeling of having his tongue on your skin dizzying after he’d played with you for so long. Almost intense how he eats at you, legs trembling as your arms fight to keep you up.

Soft growls tumble from his lips as he continuously laps at your sloppy cunt, shoving his face deeper between your legs, tongue pushing into your hole. Stretching around the muscle, walls fluttering snugly around him, his head buzzing with the feeling. His nose knocking into your clit as he vigorously makes out with your pussy.

Not able to help himself, he rubs over his pants, hand giving him minimal relief. Watching him rut into his hand as he drinks down your slick has a feral need clawing at your insides, wanting so badly to sit on him.

“I– I wanna ride– ohh fuck!–”

He shakes his head no at you, not willing to part from you yet, the action making you cry out. Tummy flipping at the pleasure he just gave you from it, fingers gripping the counter so hard it almost hurts. What does you in though, is Choso pulling his dick from his pants, needing the relief of being released from its confines.

Tip so pink and weeping precum, so hard it looks painful. You could help if he’d let you but with how one hand has you pinned to the counter and how his mouth is happily slurping you down you don’t think he’s going to stop now. His free hand grabs his cock, it twitches pitifully, so worked up. He barely focuses on stroking himself, mostly squeezing to offer some kind of pleasure.

The whole thing is overwhelming, your orgasm rocking through you suddenly and unexpectedly. You nearly fold with it, fighting to keep yourself upright. Mind so hazy as you cum into his mouth, vaguely registering his whimpers as he revels in your orgasm coating his tongue. He continues to lick you into overstimulation, body jerking as he doesn’t stop. Not stopping until your hand tugs at his hair and pulls him away.

He’s such a mess, lips and chin covered in your cum and slick, his eyes beyond pussy drunk. His dick absurdly hard and leaking obscenely. Getting to your knees you push him back onto the floor and straddle his lap, hovering right over his dick. Taking a few breaths before lowering yourself to sink down on him. His hands grip at your hips, almost shaking with his need.

The stretch is a lot, his cock fucking you open lewdly, if you weren’t one orgasm deep and so unbelievably turned on you doubt you’d be able to pull this off. When you take him to the hilt, Choso makes a sound like he’s been gut punched, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“So perfect, feel so perfect, taste so perfect…” again mumbling nonsensical praise to you, his words blending together at the feel of your snug cunt so hot around him.

You return his praise, knowing he wants to hear it, “Did s–so good– hah–, Cho, m– make me feel so good.”

He asks, “Yeah?”

You nod back at him, “Yeah.”

After a moment of adjusting to him, you begin bouncing on his dick. Ending each bounce with a grind into his pelvis, the movements have butterflies in your tummy, the stimulation against your clit making your head ring. Below you, Choso looks drunk, eyes lost as he gazes at you, to your cunt swallowing down his whole cock and back to you, not quite able to make up his mind on what he wants to watch most.

When your pace starts faltering, he’s gripping you tight and planting his feet on the ground. His harsh and fast thrusts up into you have you falling forward into him, taking the proximity as chance to kiss him deeply. Your tongue in his mouth licking up against his, swallowing down his moans and whines. One particularly harsh thrust has you parting from him with a shocked moan, instead tucking your head into his shoulder to whine and drool onto him. Brain going stupid as he fucks you so well.

Again, you’re cumming so suddenly, three perfect thrusts and his tip hitting so deep inside you and you’re finishing on him. Cunt convulsing around him as you coat his dick this time, the squelching sound of him fucking you through it almost embarrassing. He’s cumming at the same time as you, seed spilled deep inside you only to be pulled out with how furiously he fucks you both through it.

A mix of your shared mess coating the other, the display depraved and lewd and no doubt a bitch to clean up but so worth it for how fucking good you feel right now. Spine tingling and head fuzzy as you press soft kisses into his neck. His breathing heavy from under you, matching your own. His hands move from your hips to your back, running up and down in a comforting manner.

“So…” You begin, “I’m gonna make a note to wear this skirt more often.”

He smiles but his dick jumps inside you, “Please.”

𝐀/𝐍: i hope you guys enjoyyyeddd !! have beautiful days/nights <33

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[ssahotchnerr]

I hope you meant it to be dropped here 🥺

So, about jealous Y/n: I had been thinking about this after seeing the episode where Beth (that runner-woman?) appears. I thought about the scene, with "y/n" either getting to know he was handed a paper with a number

Or maybe Aaron and "y/n" had been running together and Beth approaches without any care and reader just is like: 🤨 watching the interaction, lol

knowing you

🤭 cw; JEALOUS fem bau!reader, teasing banter (hehe r and aaron are sooo in love), suggestion/sex allusions (i'm blushing), based off of aaron and beth's first interaction in 7x10 wc; 1.3k

"Okay, okay." You panted, coming to a stop. You directed your voice forward, loud enough for Aaron to hear you, a few feet ahead. You resumed walking, slowly, hands on your hips. "Let's take a breather, yeah?"

"What's wrong?" Aaron asked as he met you halfway, a teasing smirk growing on his face. "Can't keep up?"

"I can keep up jus' fine." You insisted, still catching your breath. The afternoon breeze blew into your face, cooling the sheer layer of sweat that had collected. "Just... not for a prolonged amount of time. There's a," Another staggered breath, "difference."

"Is there?" He asked humorously. His chest rose up and down, regulating his own breathing as well. "I can easily go another mile or two.

"Fantastic. I'm so happy for you." You quipped sarcastically, causing him to laugh and a smile of your own pulling at your lips. "And that's why you're the one participating in the triathlon. Not me."

"You know..." He began proposing in a light tone of voice, eyebrows raised wittingly. "There's still time for you to sign up."

"You know, you're funny." You bantered back, a pained expression pulling onto your face at the mere thought. You shook your head, "I think my time is better spent cheering you on from the sidelines, along with the others. And then reviving you afterwards."

"Oh yeah?" He chuckled, a fondness in his eyes. All banter aside, he switched tactics, softening to a sweet sincereness. "I appreciate you accompanying me. Seriously. You know you don't have to run with me, although you do inspire me to persistent. Gotta impress you, keep you interested."

"Please, as if there's anything you could do to cause me to become uninterested." You poked a finger at his chest. "And if running means I get to spend an extra hour with you, I'll gladly accept. Besides, there's something in it for me too. Makes it all worth it."

"And what's that?"

You looked around, spotting a park vendor supplying drinks, playfully brushing his question aside. "Want a water?"

The warm glint in his eyes lingered, admirably amused. One that read: you were the most difficult person he'd ever met, but he wouldn't have it any other way. "Sure, sweetheart."

"I'll grab it," you began walking, "You stay here. Catch your breath."

Aaron grabbed your hand the moment you had stepped a foot away, smoothly drawing you back with just an equally suave grin. Once in reach, he placed his lips onto yours, interrupting your growing smile.

Your nose scrunched when the two of you parted, "You're all sweaty."

"That's never been a problem before." His smirk returned, the wet cowlicks draped over his forehead bringing a multitude of images to come to mind.

This is why you ran with him. You'd never deprive yourself the hot visual, one you'd never get tired of. The overexertion, the sweat, the defined athletic wear clinging onto his body, the heavy breathing too.

You playfully rolled your eyes, granting him another kiss before you trailed off. You steadied your breathing again, in attempt to slow your heart rate a second time.

Retrieving the waters couldn't have taken you more than five minutes: waiting in a small line, supplying cash, issuing a thank you. But when you turned back towards Aaron, your feet already moving to their own accord, you stopped short - suddenly. As he wasn't alone.

He was talking to some woman - brunette, in workout clothes of her own. Her backside was facing you, so you couldn't see any specific features; to determine who she was, a familiar face or not.

You tried to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of jealousy filling your body, drawing the conclusion that she wasn't an old friend rather quickly. It started from the bottom of your stomach, crawling up your spine, spreading widely to your limbs.

Could it be harmless? Sure, that's what you were telling yourself, until the woman in question handed him a small piece of paper. She began to retreat - finally - causing a breath of relief to escape you, until Aaron calls after her.

When she turns, you're able to see her face. She’s cute, all smiles and outwardly confident. She responds to whatever he said, follows it with a laugh, before continuing her jog. 

You bit your lip, returning to Aaron with a bit more urgency, your ponytail gliding swiftly between your shoulder blades.

"Here," You handed Aaron his water, your gaze moving past him and continuing to watch her leave. As if she can feel your stare, she looks back. Your eyes may have been playing tricks on you, but you could've sworn she gave you a cunning smirk.

Your jaw clenched, nothing but that red-hot jealousy overtaking you. It blocks out all of your surroundings - Aaron's going on about something, but you don't hear him. He's muted, fuzzy, far away. You don't realize he's talking to you until he says your name, with a tad more volume.

You startle, blinking, "Sorry, what?"

"I said, do you want to go again? Or we can take a slow, evenly-paced walk back." His lips turned upwards humorously, taking a drink. "More your speed."

He's attempting to resume the ongoing, fun banter to draw your focus elsewhere, knowing you.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, nobody." He shrugged, securing the cap. "She just, er, handed me this." He explained carefully, holding up a small piece of paper.

He did it quickly; again, making it as nonchalant as possible. But even at the heightened speed you're able to see her number scrawled across the surface.

You immediately impede forward-

"Sweetheart," Just as he expected - he grabs your arm, holding you back from any impending confrontation you were set on.

"She gave you her number?" You looked at him, perplexed. The audacity. "Did you see the way she looked at me? She probably saw us kiss and yet-"

"I know, I know." He comforted, his voice a deep contrast compared to yours, hardening the more you spoke. He can practically feel you vibrating in fury. "Hey, it's okay. I'm discarding it, of course." He crumbled it in his fist, "Have zero need for it."

"But that doesn't excuse what she just did." You try to look past him again, but he uses his body to shield your view. "And I don't like it. Not at all."

"You're right, it doesn't, but it's okay." Aaron presses a kiss to your forehead, muttering his next sentence into your skin. "I'm yours. Nothing changes that."

"Damn right you are," you huffed, crossing your arms. Despite the distance (she's almost long gone by now), you're at the ready to grab Aaron, to kiss him fiercely if she ever so lightly takes a peek back.

"Forget about it, and I don't mean that in a dismissive way. Look at me when I say this," He tossed the paper in the nearby trash, grabbing ahold of your shoulders instead. "I'm uninterested. Unfazed. Utterly in love with you and greatly anticipating showing you how much once we're in the privacy of home. Preferably in the shower, and then again in bed afterwards."

He manages to pry a smile out of you, a blush forming at your cheeks, although it doesn't dissolve your pout just yet. "But..."

"But what?" He asked gently as he releases his hold, swiping his thumb across your cheek soothingly.

"What if she can run faster than me." You mumbled pitifully. You said so half jokingly, half seriously.

Aaron laughed warmly, spanning an arm over your shoulders and pulling you directly to his chest. "I highly doubt that."

"You promise?"

"With every ounce of me."

[whateverloomis]

Hi! Can i ask for a billy loomis x reader where she gets a tattoo of his name either in the side of her breast or in her hip and she shows him and they fuck (if you decide to put the tattoo in her ass he would def drill into reader doggystyle 💀)

This was incredibly fun to write. Thanks for your request anon 💋

🔞 Warnings: AFAB reader (she/her,) cheating, shower sex, fingering, roughness, reader has pre-determined interests, reader has tattoos, implied size difference, unedited

Word count: 2.6k

-

"That's ridiculous Stu!" - "A dare is a dare Tatum, she has to do it!" Stu countered while laughing. The couple, Randy and you decided it was a great idea to play truth or dare while drunk. Sidney and Billy had to leave early and the four of you got bored. Stu was obviously the one who suggested the game.

"I mean, he does have a point." Randy said and Tatum gasped in disbelief; "Wh- Are you seriously siding with Stu on this?! YN! Are you even okay with this?" Tatum asked and you sighed, closing your eyes in defeat. "Look, I appreciate your concern Tate, but I mean... I already have tattoos, another small one isn't going to hur-" - "This is Billy's name we're talking about here, YN. What if Sidney sees it? Or even worse, what if Billy sees it? These two idiots aren't going to keep their mouths shut." The girl has a point, but you honestly didn't care. It could easily get covered up with something else in the future.

"You're right on that one." You said and glared at Randy and Stu before continuing; "But I can get it covered up once it heals, plus it's going to be hidden-" - "What about when we go to the lake next weekend, hm? It wont be hidden there, your hip is going to be exposed." Tatum interrupted.

You didn't know why she was so concerned. Maybe it was because of the whole "tattoos are permanent" or "don't get anyone's name tattooed" mentality.

You smiled at Tatum softly and placed your hand on hers reassuringly; "I'll be fine, okay? We're all friends and it's not going to be an issue. It'll just be for some laughs and then I'll get it covered up, okay?"

Tatum sighed, visibly calming down and glaring at Stu and Randy; "You guys are paying for the cover up too." - "What?! That's not part of the dare!" Randy complained and Tatum rolled her eyes; "It is now, dumb ass." - "That's enough guuyyss, who's up next?!" Stu finished the argument.

•

As promised, you went to the local tattoo shop and got "Billy Loomis" tattooed on your right hip.

"Hooh, that looks hot not gonna lie." Stu said while sticking his tongue out. Tatum rolled her eyes playfully and blew a bubble with her chewing gum; "I gotta say, it is a hot placement."

You smirked at your friends and stood up straight so the tattoo artist could put protective film over the ink.

"If Sidney wasn't with Billy he'd 100% be into this." Randy said and you gasped, smirking at him; "Randy shut up! Oh my God..." - 'Who said he wouldn't like it now?" Stu said and smirked at you. You bit your lip in response and rolled you eyes playfully. You knew they were just teasing and joking around, but having your crush's name tattooed on you was a total turn on, and you felt like a little slut with your dirty little secret.

•

When you arrived at your house that night, you couldn't stop staring at his name engraved with ink on your skin.

You modeled in front of the mirror with the bikini you were planning to wear next weekend and imagined how Billy would react to you looking as hot as you did with his name on you. You wondered if he'd actually like it, like Randy and Stu said. If he'd get turned on by it. Hell, if he'd fuck you because of it. Your imagination ran wild with all the possibilities.

Billy had always been low-key flirty with you, and you had to admit that it confused you considering that he has a girlfriend, but you figured that he's comfortable being around you and maybe follows your lead just for fun. I mean, friends casually flirt sometimes jokingly so you guessed it was normal between you guys.

•

It was finally the end of the week and you were leaving to the cabin that Stu's parents own. There's apparently a huge lake that's perfect for the hot summer sun.

Your bag was made and you were once again admiring Billy's name on your skin. The tattoo was small enough to peel and heal just enough to get in the water during the week.

You were putting sun block on your skin and the tattoo looked vivid with the moisture of the cream. You couldn't wait for Billy to see it.

Stu pulled up to your driveway and honked the horn of his parents van. You jumped in excitement and ran down the stairs, bag in hand. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you opened the door and walked towards the car.

Everyone was already seated and there was a space reserved for you at the very back with Randy.

"You ready to show Billy your new tatt- Ow!" you hit Randy on his bicep and Billy looked back from his seat. "Show me what?" He asked, confusion written all over his face.

Stu let out a breathy laugh and Tatum thumped him. Billy looked at the couple suspiciously and bit his inner cheek in annoyance. Luckily he didn't question you again, but he definitely knew something was going on with how obvious everyone was being.

•

After a three hour drive, you guys finally arrived at Stu's cabin and settled in before heading outside and picking a spot to set up a picnic in front of the lake.

The sun was shining bright and the water looked a nice teal color. It was still and quiet.

You could hear the birds and the wind swishing the trees. You helped Tatum and Sidney set up everything before sitting down on the blanket to bathe under the sun.

Taking your short flowy black sun dress off, you revealed your indigo blue bikini. It hugged your body perfectly and exposed just the right amount of skin and curves.

You sat down on the picnic blanket next to the girls and made eye contact with Billy who was taking his shirt off next to you. He raked his eyes up and down your body before giving you a subtle smirk. You bit your lip and looked away only to find Stu giving you a knowing look followed by a breathy laugh. You flipped him off and he shrugged, laughing before running into the water with Randy like a maniac.

Tatum gave you a knowing look as well and you nodded at her before looking at Sidney. "Hey uh, Sid..." You started; "I have something to show you, but I'm giving you context first because it's a little weird."

Sidney looked at you, a subtle smile on her face mixed with confusion; "Yes?" - "Last week when you and Billy left Stu's house early, the rest of us playd truth or dare an-" - "Oh my God, did you kiss Randy?" She asked jokingly and you placed your hand over your mouth to suppress a loud laugh; "What?! No! No... Ugh okay, I got dared by Stu to get Billy's name tattooed on my hip and I did it." You finished quickly and showed the girl your new ink.

Sidney gasped and laughed at the sight. "Oh my Gosh, you're crazy!" - "You see Tatum?! I told you she wouldn't get mad." You said, rolling your eyes at the blonde and she gasped; "Hey! I'm just trynna look out for my girlies, God."

All three of you laughed and looked ahead at the lake. "I wonder what Billy will say." Sidney wondered and you looked at her; "Do you think he'll get mad or something?" - "Nah, I don't think so. Well, maybe at Stu for being an ass and making you do it." Sid replied and you nodded in response, sudden nervousness taking over.

•

After a while, you and the girls decided to get in the water and enjoy the cool temperature after sun bathing.

You approached the shore and Stu swam towards you like a shark waiting to attack.

Before you could dip your whole body in, Stu gasped dramatically. "Oh myyy, YN? Is that a new tattoo?"

You looked at him in disbelief and thumped him; "Shut up, Stu" - "Damn would you look at that! It is a new tattoo" Randy said and looked at Billy. Subtlety wasn't part of both your friends at that moment.

Billy glared at both of them and then stared at you and the girls.

"What the hell is going on with you guys? You've been acting weird since we picked up YN." - "Ugh, Stu dared me to get your name tattooed on my hip and I did, okay?" You answered quickly, annoyance written on your face.

Billy raised an eyebrow and smirked, followed by a laugh. "You actually did it?" He asked while walking towards you.

Stu was trying to hold his laughter in but could barely do it. Tatum smacked his bicep and glared at him. "Don't be an ass." She whispered, the situation clearly being awkward for you.

Billy crouched down in front of you and you showed him the ink, trying to maintain distance, but he was making it impossible.

Billy ran his thumb over the tattoo and let out a breathy laugh. "You're insane." he said and looked up at you. He was amused and his touch made goosbumps arise on your body. It didn't go unnoticed by him and he smirked.

The boy stood up and towered over you, looking straight into your eyes. You blushed at his close proximity. "I like it, it looks hot on you," he said, loud enough for only you to hear before swimming away.

The rest of the group joined him and started playing with water guns and other toys, however you stood in the same spot a few seconds longer, but Randy snapped you out of your daze.

"You coming?" He asked, and you swam towards him. "Didn't know you have a little crush on Billy boy." he said, and you looked at him, faking confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about." - "Oh c'mon, you were tense as a rock." - "Shut up Randy. Even if I did, he's dating Sidney so I'd have to get over it." You countered and he lifted his hands in defeat. "Chill, I'm just messing with you." He laughed softly before swimming along with you.

•

After being in the lake nearly all day you decided to take a shower before joining the group. Little did you know, Billy was also in the cabin waiting to get you alone.

Walking into the bathroom, as you were closing the door something stopped it from moving. You opened it to check what was blocking it and saw it was Billy.

You gasped in surprise and looked up at him. "You can use it first, I can wait a few more minutes to shower." You said and Billy walked a bit closer to you. "Mm no, you go ahead. I don't mind waiting here." He said and stepped in with you, locking the door behind him.

"What um... Are you doi-" - Before you could finish your sentence, Billy pushed you against the wall and kissed you. You yelped against his lips but returned the kiss without thinking about it a few seconds later.

Billy pulled back and looked away, biting his lower lip. "Fuck... Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all day... For so long, at this point." He whispered.

You were at a loss of words and in disbelief. He actually wanted to kiss you? Wanted to feel your soft lips against his?

"Billy I... Why? You're with Sidn-" - "Fuck Sidney... God, that tattoo... My name on your skin? I wanted to fuck you right then and there when you showed me." He admitted, running his hand over your hip.

You couldn't believe what was happening. Billy Loomis wants you just as much as you want him. All this time you could've had him.

The feeling of want consumed your body. You didn't care about Sidney. Selfishness took over you and God did the thrill feel good.

You didn't waste anymore time and kissed him again, quickly reaching for his hair and pulling at the strands.

He moaned as quietly as he could and pulled you against him by your hips.

Billy squeezed the flesh and moved his hands up your back, untying your bikini straps followed by the ones over your neck.

The piece of fabric fell on the floor and he grabbed your tits in his large hands, squeezing them softly while pinching and playing with your nipples. The little moans you released made his cock twitch, it begging to be set free.

"Fuck... You're so hot." Billy whispered while snaking one hand down your body and untying your bikini bottoms.

He ran two fingers between your folds and felt the wetness coat them. He brought his hand up to his mouth and tasted you, moaning as a response.

"You taste so fucking good." He said and you whined at the sight. Billy gestured to the shower with his head and looked into your eyes; "Let's get in there."

You widened your eyes in surprise and bit your bottom lip; "Are you crazy?" - "Maybe, I mean... You wanted to take a shower, right?" He replied, smirking.

•

In the shower, the water ran hot over you. Billy had you against one of the cold walls, your tits pressing against his chest while he finger fucked you and rubbed your clit with his thumb.

"Fuck... Fuck, Billy please." You begged him to move his hand faster, but he was torturing you with his slow movements.

You squeezed his fingers with your cunt and it only made his cock harder against you.

"You feel so good around my fingers baby." He whispered in your ear and your breathing picked up. You were trying to be quiet but fuck he was making you feel so good that you wanted to scream.

You grabbed his cock and started to stroke it just as slow as he was fucking you with his fingers. He cursed under his breath and kissed you impossibly slow. You guys were driving each other crazy, and Billy didn't want to wait any longer to fuck that sweet cunt of yours.

Pulling his fingers out of you, the emptiness made you moan quietly against his shoulder.

Billy moved you towards the see through panel of the shower and pressed you facing forward. Your tits were squished against the glass and you could see the reflection in the mirror above the sink. You looked impossibly hot, and when you felt Billy lift one of your legs to the side, slipping inside your sopping cunt? It was over.

You let out a moan that was too loud for your liking and Billy covered your mouth with one of his hands while the other held your hip to keep you pressed against the glass.

He snapped his hips against your ass and filled you up deliciously with his cock.

You craned your head to the side and grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head towards you and kissing him.

You breathed heavily into each other's mouths as Billy pounded into you.

Thanks to him working you up with his fingers you were incredibly sensitive, so when he reached between your legs and rubbed your clit in circles it was over for you.

You moaned against his palm and came around his cock, squirting in the process. Billy looked down between your bodies and the sight of his cock pumping inside of you while you squeezed your walls around him was enough for him to reach his own high.

Billy pulled out and jerked himself, cumming over your ass.

The water slowly washed everything off your body and you turned around to face him.

"This will be our little secret, hm?" Billy whispered and you bit your lower lip, nodding in response before initiating another make out session.

[rootedinrevisions]

Worth More than Gold

SUMMARY: Glen Powell has asked you, his long-time friend and secret crush to be his date to the Golden Globes. The evening is filled with glitz, glamour, and the intoxicating spark of possibilities - both on the red carpet and behind the scene. And at the end of the day Glen may not have won the Golden Globe, but he just might have won something better—you.

A/N: Glen's look at the Golden Globes did things to me and gave me so many ideas. This will probably be the last fic I do for the GG and I'm going to try to get back on track with my WIPs and Requests.

As always I'd love to hear what you guys think! I love seeing your comments and reblogs! I seriously smile and get all giddy like a little kid when I get a notification from you guys so please let me know what I think.

WORD COUNT: 10.8k

TAGS: In Comments.

The hotel room was a whirlwind of chaos, a perfect reflection of Glen’s pre-event energy. The plush carpet was littered with tissue paper from a last-minute gift delivery, a shoe box sat abandoned near the bed, and the sleek black tie Glen had decided to forego tonight was somehow draped over a lampshade.

Glen himself was in the middle of the room, pacing in socks and dress pants, his phone pressed to his ear. “Listen, I’m just saying, Texas football isn’t a sport—it’s a religion,” he declared, his Texas drawl warming the edges of his words. “And if the Longhorns take the game against Ohio State this week, we’re coming for that national title.”

He paused, evidently listening to the journalist on the other end of the call, then grinned as he gestured animatedly with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know you want to talk about the nomination. But did you see last weekend’s game? That last play in the second overtime?”

Across the room, you sat curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone but only half-paying attention to the screen. Watching Glen charm his way through an interview about his career or recent projects while managing to somehow steer the conversation to Texas football was nothing new.

“Cufflinks,” said Warren, the stylist ensuring Glen looked red-carpet ready. Warren stood to the side, arms crossed with the patience of someone who’d dealt with a dozen “Glen Powells” before.

“They’re in the pocket of your tux,” you called without looking up, your voice laced with playful exasperation. “Right where I told you I put them earlier.”

Glen froze mid-gesture, patting down his pants pocket first before moving to his jacket. When his fingers closed around the cufflinks, he shot you a sheepish grin. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” he mouthed, before turning his attention back to his call. “Listen, I gotta wrap this up. Can I call you tomorrow and we’ll finish this?” he asked the journalist.

With that, he hung up and turned to the room, raking a hand through his neatly-styled hair. “You believe this?” He said, grinning as he pocketed his phone. “I’m on deadline and trying to get out the door for one of the biggest nights of my life. And GQ wants to talk about…wardrobe and clothes and who I’m wearing.”

Warren arched a brow, adjusting the velvet Armani jacket on its hanger. “Wardrobe is why I’m here, Glen,” he said with a grin. “Now, if you could refrain from wrinkling this masterpiece, we might actually get you to the event looking like a winner.”

You snorted, rising from the couch. “Poor you,” you teased, brushing imaginary lint off your own shirt. “Must be so hard being adored by millions while wearing designer clothes.”

Glen rolled his eyes and snorted, stepping closer as the stylist fussed with his cummerbund. “Hey, I’m counting on you to keep me sane tonight,” he said, half-serious as he began to tug at the cuffs of his shirt. “You’re my buffer.”

“Buffer?” you repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what I’m here for? Not moral support—just as a human barrier between you and Hollywood?”

“Exactly,” he deadpanned, his grin widening. “You’re overqualified for the job, though.”

You stepped forward, brushing imaginary lint from his shirt, your fingers moving with practiced ease over the slick fabric. Glen watched you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“Okay, be honest,” he said, tilting his chin slightly. “One button or two undone? What’s the vibe tonight?”

You paused, letting your gaze drop to the open collar of his shirt, catching a glimpse of the chest hair peeking out.

“One,” you said decisively, reaching up to fasten the second button. “Two buttons undone is too much chest hair. You’re going to a red carpet, not auditioning for a ‘70s cop show.”

He laughed, the rich sound filling the room as he placed his hands on his hips. “Hey, my chest hair is a crowd-pleaser,” he countered, feigning offense. “You don’t know how many compliments I’ve gotten on this chest.”

You rolled your eyes, holding back a laugh. “Please never say that to me again.”

He leaned in slightly, his grin widening. “Admit it. You’re just jealous you can’t pull this off.”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting the collar of his shirt with a playful tug. “Oh, please. If I wanted to show off chest hair, I’d buy a faux-fur vest and call it a day.”

“Savage,” he said, clutching his chest as though you’d wounded him. “You’ve got jokes tonight, huh?”

“Somebody has to keep your ego in check,” you replied, stepping back to inspect your work. “And you make it so easy.”

Glen chuckled, shaking his head as he tugged at the cuffs of his shirt. “Well, I’ll have you know, Warren said I was rocking this look,” he said, gesturing toward the stylist, who was busy folding tissue paper into one of the garment bags.

Warren didn’t even look up. “Warren also said to stop touching your shirt or you’ll wrinkle it,” he replied dryly, earning a snort from you and an exaggerated groan from Glen.

“Fine,” Glen said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “No more touching. But if I get to the carpet and I’m not turning heads, I’m blaming you.”

“Oh, you’ll turn heads,” you said, crossing your arms and giving him a once-over. “If not for the suit, then definitely for whatever ridiculous sound bite you give on the carpet. You’re physically incapable of being boring, remember?”

He grinned, stepping closer so the space between you was almost nonexistent. “Is that a compliment?” he asked, his voice dipping slightly.

You tilted your head, refusing to let him win. “Don’t get used to it, Cowboy.”

“Ah, there it is,” he said, leaning back with a laugh. “The nickname. I knew it was coming.”

You shrugged. “If the boots fit…”

Glen slid the custom velvet Armani tux jacket over his broad shoulders, the deep midnight-black fabric catching the light in subtle, luxurious waves. He tugged at the lapels, ensuring everything was sitting perfectly, before stepping back with an air of casual confidence.

“Well?” he asked, doing a quick spin on his heels, arms spread out theatrically. “What do you think? Too much? Not enough?”

You leaned back slightly, arms crossed, pretending to appraise him critically, but your expression betrayed you. Your eyes swept over him, taking in every detail—the sharp tailoring that hugged his frame perfectly, the structured cut of the jacket emphasizing his frame, and the way the silk shirt beneath hinted at the faintest trail of chest hair.

The stylist had done a remarkable job on his hair, taming the usual tousled locks into something sleek yet effortlessly natural. And the stubble—God, the stubble. He hadn’t bothered to shave completely, leaving just enough scruff to lend him a rugged edge that, if you were honest, made him look even more attractive.

The all-black ensemble was a bold choice, but it worked. The mix of textures—the smooth silk of the shirt, the luxurious velvet of the jacket, and the matte sheen of the tailored trousers—created a look that was polished yet unmistakably Glen.

“You clean up nice,” you finally said, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you took him in from head to toe. “I mean, you almost look like a proper gentleman.”

“Almost?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow as he turned back toward the mirror, pretending to check himself out.

“Well, the stubble kind of ruins the whole gentleman thing,” you quipped, biting back a laugh.

“Ruin it?” Glen turned to face you again, his voice dripping with mock offense. “The stubble is the pièce de résistance, thank you very much.” He ran a hand over his jaw, grinning when he saw the way your gaze briefly followed the movement.

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “Sure it is. But seriously, you look good, Glen. The best I’ve seen you look in a while.”

For a moment, his grin softened, and his eyes caught yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, more sincerely this time. “You’re going to knock ‘em dead tonight.”

He held your gaze for a beat longer than usual, something unreadable flickering in his expression before he broke the moment with his signature charm. “Well, I have to. You’re the one who’ll have to be seen with me all night. Can’t embarrass you on your first red carpet.”

You glanced at the clock and froze. Less than an hour until you were supposed to be ready and out the door. Helping Glen finish getting ready had been fun—maybe a little too fun, you realized now, as time ticked away faster than you’d expected.

“I need to go get ready,” you said abruptly, stepping back and pointing toward the door.

Glen smirked, his hands casually adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “Go on, Cinderella. Clock’s ticking.”

Without another word, you bolted for your room next door, already running through a mental checklist of what needed to happen to make yourself red carpet-ready in under an hour. Once inside, you kicked the door shut behind you and headed straight for the bathroom. Flicking on the light, you stared at your reflection in the mirror.

Okay. Hair. Makeup. Dress. You could do this. Right?

You pulled your hair loose from the lazy ponytail it had been in all day, raking your fingers through it and trying to decide if it would look better up or down. Your eyes darted to the neckline of the dress still hanging on the back of the closet door, but you didn’t have time to figure out how to make everything match. You groaned, pressing your hands to your face.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Hello?” you called out, cautiously heading toward the door and cracking it open.

Standing there were two members of Glen’s glam squad—one holding a bag of makeup brushes and palettes, the other with a small suitcase of hair tools.

“Mr. Powell asked us to check on you,” the makeup artist said with a kind smile. “He thought you might be running behind.”

You blinked at them, momentarily speechless. “He... sent you?”

The hairstylist nodded. “He figured you might need a little help. Mind if we come in?”

You stepped aside to let them in, still processing Glen’s uncanny ability to predict you’d be panicking. “Sorry about the mess,” you admitted, glancing at the clock again. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry,” the makeup artist said, already setting up her supplies on the bathroom counter. “We’ve got this. Can we see the dress? It’ll help us figure out the best look for you.”

You grabbed the garment bag from the closet and unzipped it, revealing the dress inside. You’d picked it out weeks ago, but standing there now, you suddenly second-guessed everything about it.

The hairstylist tilted his head thoughtfully, taking in the neckline and cut. “With this neckline, I’d suggest pulling your hair up—something elegant but not overdone. It’ll show off your shoulders and collarbone beautifully.”

You nodded, trusting his expertise. “That sounds perfect.”

“And for makeup,” the other stylist added, “we’ll keep it timeless—focus on your eyes, a little shimmer, and a soft lip. Nothing too bold, just enough to complement the dress and the hair.”

“Let’s do it,” you said, exhaling as you sat down.

With practiced efficiency, they got to work. The hairstylist began gathering your hair into an elegant style that framed your face while showcasing the neckline of the dress. Meanwhile, the makeup artist brushed soft gold tones onto your lids, added a touch of liner to define your eyes, and blended everything seamlessly. A quick swipe of lipstick finished the look.

You watched the transformation in the mirror, the tension slowly melting from your shoulders. By the time they stepped back to admire their handiwork, you felt like a completely different person.

“Done in thirty minutes, just like we promised,” the hairstylist said with a grin.

You stood, giving them both a grateful smile. “Thank you. Seriously, I wouldn’t have made it without you—or Glen, apparently.”

The makeup artist laughed. “He seemed pretty confident you’d need backup. Smart guy.”

“Yeah,” you said softly, thinking about his effortless charm and how much he looked out for you. “He really is.”

After the hairstylist and makeup artist left, you stood in front of the full-length mirror, a deep breath escaping your lips. You could do this.

You reached for the dress, still hanging from its garment bag, and carefully unzipped it. The soft fabric slid through your fingers as you pulled it off the hanger, feeling a flutter of nerves as you held it up in front of you.

The dress was simple, yet elegant, hugging every curve in a way that made you second-guess your choice. But it was beautiful.

With your heart racing a little, you slipped the dress on. You paused to glance at the mirror as you tugged the fabric up your body, hoping everything would fall into place.

But it didn’t.

The zipper snagged halfway up your lower back. You tugged a little harder, but it didn’t budge. Panic settled in your chest. You didn’t want to rip the fabric or make a scene, but there was no way to finish getting ready if you couldn’t zip the dress.

Your fingers fumbled for your phone, dialing Glen’s number before you could think twice. The seconds ticked by slowly, and your nerves only heightened with every ring.

“Hey, it’s me,” you said the moment he answered. Your voice trembled slightly despite your best efforts to sound calm. “I need help. The zipper on the dress is stuck, and I can’t get it up.”

“Don’t worry, I’m coming right over,” Glen’s voice was calm, reassuring. You could almost hear the smile in his tone.

The call ended quickly, and before you knew it, there was a soft knock at your door. You quickly pulled the front of the dress to your chest and peeked out, your eyes meeting Glen’s as you opened the door just a crack. His presence was as commanding as ever, but now, standing there, you felt exposed.

“Hey,” you greeted him, offering a sheepish smile.

“Hey,” he said softly, raising an eyebrow. “Need a hand?”

You nodded, opening the door wider for him to step inside.

As he entered, you turned, giving him full view of the situation. The dress clung tightly to your body, and you were sure your back looked exposed in the tight fabric. A slight blush crept across your cheeks as your fingers instinctively tugged at the fabric.

“Relax,” Glen said, his tone warm and teasing. He moved behind you and gently grasped the zipper. 

After a few tugs and a bit of effort, he managed to get it unstuck, smoothly pulling it the rest of the way up. The dress fit perfectly once it was zipped all the way.

Glen stepped back with a satisfied nod, patting your hip gently. “All good. You’re all set now.”

You took a deep breath, your nerves slightly eased but still there. With a nervous smile, you smoothed the front of your dress down, trying to calm yourself before glancing back at him.

“Do I look okay?” you asked quietly, suddenly unsure of how you appeared.

Glen gave you a slow once-over, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than you expected. Then, his lips curved into a soft smile.

“You look amazing,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “Seriously. You’re going to steal the show tonight.”

You couldn’t help but smile, the tension in your chest easing. Glen’s words meant more than you realized, and as he gave you that smile, it felt like everything was finally falling into place.

Once you were fully ready, feeling the weight of the evening ahead, Glen offered you a reassuring smile as he adjusted his jacket one last time. He gave you a soft nod, signaling that it was time to go.

Together, you left the suite, the sound of your heels echoing in the hallway as you walked side by side toward the elevator. Glen pressed the button, standing close enough to be a silent but steady presence. You couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he moved—like he was born to own every room he entered, even though his demeanor was always so grounded.

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and Glen stepped aside, letting you enter first. When you reached the lobby, the bustle of the hotel faded in comparison to the calm, quiet space Glen seemed to create around the two of you. He was the kind of person who moved with purpose, but never rushed—always thoughtful, always present.

As you made your way toward the entrance, he gave a quiet wave to a few people who greeted him, but he kept his focus on you, his hand close to your lower back as if guiding you through the crowd.

Outside, a sleek black car waited by the curb, the driver standing at attention. Glen held the door open for you with a courteous nod, his hand outstretched to assist you into the back seat.

You smiled, appreciating the little things—his attention to detail, the way he never made you feel like you were inconveniencing him. You slid into the seat, and as you did, Glen quickly followed, settling next to you with a quiet grace that was all him.

The driver closed the door, and the car began to move smoothly through the streets, the city lights reflecting off the tinted windows. The buzz of the evening began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, and Glen turned his attention to you with a soft look.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his tone light but sincere. He glanced down at your dress, the slight gleam in his eyes making you feel all the more seen. “You’re gonna turn heads tonight, no doubt about it.”

You smiled, trying to play it cool, but his words still made your stomach flutter. “I’m ready,” you said, your voice steady. 

The car glided through the streets, the hum of the engine and the soft clink of the streetlights outside giving you a sense of distance from the chaos of the night ahead. Your fingers nervously drummed on the fabric of your dress, your gaze flickering from the passing city lights to the reflection of yourself in the window.

Glen noticed the subtle tension in your posture and the way your fingers twitched, like they couldn’t quite settle. His sharp eyes, attuned to every little shift in your mood, moved over to you. He shifted closer, his hand reaching across the space between you with ease, brushing lightly over your fingers before gently taking your hand in his.

"You're going to be fine," he said, his voice low, teasing but gentle, as he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, smoothing away any remnants of tension. "Just smile and wave, Penguin. You’ve got this."

You couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname, the warmth of his hand in yours bringing a little bit of ease. “Penguin?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow, feeling the tension in your shoulders release with that soft chuckle.

He grinned at you, the kind of smile that melted any nervous edge. “Yeah, Penguin. You know—Madagascar. Smile and wave boys. Smile and wave.” He gave your hand a playful tug, the humor in his eyes lighting up.

You shook your head, but the tension you’d carried with you slowly began to melt. Glen had that way about him—without even trying, he made things feel easy, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. His confidence was infectious, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that you could pull this off.

The car hit a smooth turn, the soft hum of the tires filling the silence. You glanced at Glen, his easy grin still in place, his hand steady in yours. There was something about his presence—something grounding, comforting. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as you let the last bits of tension drain away.

"Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Glen glanced down at you, his expression softening. He didn’t move, didn’t shift away—he just stayed still, letting you rest there. His thumb continued its soothing motion across the back of your hand, and he tilted his head slightly toward yours.

"Anytime," he replied, his voice warm and steady. "You know I’ve got you."

For a moment, the world outside the car faded away. It was just the two of you, a quiet moment that reminded you why Glen was your best friend. His support, his calm energy—it was all you needed to take a deep breath and believe in yourself again.

As the car slowed to a stop, signaling your arrival at the red carpet, you felt ready. Maybe it was the way Glen always knew how to bring you back to yourself, or maybe it was just the fact that he was there beside you, exactly where he always seemed to be when you needed him most.

You stole a quick glance at Glen, catching the way his gaze softened as he looked back at you, his hand still comfortably wrapped around yours.

“Hey,” he said, the tone shifting just a little, serious but with the same undertone of care. “You’re gonna be great, okay? And if you need me to do anything, I’m right here. Just... be you.”

Glen gave your hand one last squeeze, a reassuring pressure that grounded you, and you suddenly felt like you could take on the world.

The driver opened the door, and the bright lights of the red carpet began to stretch ahead of you, already swirling with flashes and faces, the hum of excitement palpable in the air. Glen leaned toward you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing the smooth skin of your neck.

“You’re gonna shine tonight,” he said quietly, his voice filled with confidence, making you believe it for the first time.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, then flashed him a grin. “Thanks, Glen.”

He winked. “Anytime, Penguin. Let’s go make some memories.”

With that, you stepped out of the car, Glen’s hand still firmly in yours, ready to face whatever the night would bring—with him by your side, you felt ready for anything.

The roar of the red carpet hit you the moment you stepped out of the car. A wall of flashing lights and the constant hum of voices calling out names created a dizzying cacophony. For a second, you froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. The chaos seemed endless, but Glen’s steady hand on the small of your back was the anchor you needed.

“Stay close,” he said quietly, his voice warm and reassuring, almost lost in the noise. He guided you forward with a gentle pressure, his touch never faltering.

Reporters shouted his name, cameras clicked furiously, and fans called out from behind the barriers. Glen’s demeanor shifted effortlessly, the easy confidence you admired about him coming to life under the scrutiny. But even as he navigated the chaos like a pro, his focus never strayed far from you.

When a particularly eager photographer stepped too close, Glen instinctively pulled you in, lacing your arm through his. The motion was protective yet natural, as though he’d done it a thousand times before.

He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing your ear as he whispered, “You doing okay so far?”

You nodded, the nerves still simmering but far less overwhelming with Glen beside you. “Yeah. It’s just... a lot.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers giving your arm a light squeeze. “It’s always a lot. Just keep smiling and don’t trip. I’ve got the rest covered.”

Moments later, you were ushered to the line of reporters waiting for interviews. Glen kept you close, his hand returning to your back as he led you toward the first microphone. The journalist’s attention immediately shifted to him, questions about his latest project firing off one after another.

“This is Glen Powell, looking dapper as always! Who’s your stunning guest tonight?” one reporter asked, her eyes flicking to you with interest.

Glen grinned, that signature charm lighting up his face. “This,” he said, his voice full of pride, “is the best friend who keeps me sane.” He glanced at you, his expression softening as if to emphasize his words.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as the reporter laughed. “Keeping Glen Powell on track sounds like a full-time job!”

“You have no idea,” you replied, finding your confidence in the moment. Glen chuckled beside you, his presence like a shield against the overwhelming spotlight.

The interviews continued, with Glen effortlessly steering the attention toward his projects while making sure you felt included. Whenever he wasn’t speaking, his hand either rested lightly on your back or your arm stayed looped through his. The gesture was subtle, but it kept you grounded, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone in this.

In a rare lull between interviews, Glen turned to you, his expression softening as the frenzy of the red carpet seemed to momentarily fade into the background.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, almost drowned out by the noise around you.

You looked up at him, your heart still racing from the whirlwind of the evening. 

“Hey,” you replied, a little breathless.

He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair that had fallen out of your updo from your face, his fingers lingering just slightly longer than necessary. His touch was light, yet it sent a wave of warmth through you. His eyes searched yours, the usual glint of mischief replaced with something quieter, more sincere. “You okay?”

The simple question held weight, as if he wasn’t just asking about the moment but something deeper. You nodded, your voice catching slightly as you said, “Yeah. Thanks to you.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, his hand dropping back to his side, though the warmth of his touch seemed to linger. “Good. Can’t have my Penguin falling apart on me now.”

The moment hung between you, brief but charged with an unspoken connection that neither of you dared to address. Then the chaos of the red carpet surged back to life, pulling you both out of it.

“Ready to keep going?” Glen asked, his tone light again as he gestured toward the next line of reporters.

You took a deep breath, straightened your shoulders, and smiled. “Let’s do it.”

With your arm resting gently on his, Glen led you forward, his confidence bolstering your own. And as the night unfolded, you realized that no matter how overwhelming the evening became, you’d be okay—with Glen by your side.

The ballroom was a masterpiece of elegance, bathed in soft, golden light with tables draped in white linens and adorned with extravagant floral centerpieces. Each table bore name cards in ornate calligraphy, indicating an impressive roster of directors, actors, and other Hollywood heavyweights.

Glen pulled out your chair for you before taking his seat beside you, leaning in briefly to whisper, “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

You looked at Glen with a soft smile. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Powell.”

Within moments, the table began filling with familiar faces. To your left sat Richard Linklater himself, his unassuming charm making you feel more at ease than you’d expected. Across the table, a notable actress you’d only ever seen on-screen chatted animatedly with Glen, who was effortlessly charismatic as always.

“Glen,” Richard said with a warm smile, his Texan drawl coming through as he gestured toward you. “You didn’t introduce me to your lovely guest.”

Glen straightened, the corners of his mouth tilting upward as he turned to you. “Richard, this is the best friend who keeps me sane—and who’s also had to deal with my Dazed and Confused impression far too many times.”

You laughed lightly, shaking Richard’s hand. “It’s true. If I hear him say, ‘Alright, alright, alright,’ one more time, I might disown him.”

Richard chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “A classic never dies, though, does it?”

“I suppose not,” you conceded with a grin.

The quick banter caught the attention of the others at the table, who joined the conversation with playful remarks of their own. You held your own with ease, even managing to get a genuine laugh out of the actress across from you after a comment about the absurdity of some press junket questions.

Glen, sitting beside you, watched the exchanges with a kind of quiet pride, his gaze lingering on you whenever you spoke. At one point, he leaned closer, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re killing it. Remind me again—why am I not bringing you to all of these things?”

You smirked, taking a sip of water to hide the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “Because you know I’d upstage you.”

“Touché,” he said with a soft laugh, nudging your shoulder playfully.

As the dinner continued, Glen made sure to include you in every conversation, subtly steering the spotlight toward you when someone asked about his current projects. You found yourself talking about Glen’s work ethic and how he somehow managed to juggle it all without losing his sense of humor.

“Sounds like you know him pretty well,” Richard observed with a knowing smile.

“I sure hope so after I’ve put up with him for all these years,” you replied, glancing at Glen. “Someone has to keep him humble.”

The table erupted in laughter, and Glen shook his head, though the unmistakable warmth in his expression betrayed how much he loved every second of it.

When dessert was served—an artfully plated creation that was almost too pretty to eat—Glen leaned in once more, his tone playful but sincere. “See? Told you you’d be great.”

You gave him a sidelong glance, a smile tugging at your lips. “Not bad for someone who almost didn’t make it out of the hotel room.”

“Hey,” he said, his voice softening, “you belong here, you know.”

The weight of his words settled between you, a quiet affirmation that carried more meaning than the playful banter that had preceded it. You nodded, the nerves you’d been holding onto finally beginning to ease.

The awards show was nothing short of spectacular, a seamless blend of glamour, artistry, and showmanship. The host kept the audience entertained with clever quips and light-hearted jokes, while presenters took the stage to announce the winners in a variety of categories. The room buzzed with energy as names were called, winners delivered heartfelt speeches, and cameras panned over the crowd of celebrities.

Sitting beside Glen, you couldn’t help but notice how his leg bounced slightly under the table, a telltale sign of his nerves. Despite the outward appearance of ease he projected, you knew him well enough to see through it. Every now and then, his hand brushed his jawline, the slight stubble catching the light, as he glanced at the stage and back at you with an almost imperceptible smile.

You leaned closer to him during a quieter moment. “How are you holding up?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible over the applause filling the room.

“Better with you here,” he replied, his tone casual but sincere. The weight of his words sent a gentle warmth through you, grounding you as much as it did him.

As the night progressed, Glen laughed at the host’s jokes and applauded the winners, though you could feel his anticipation building as his category grew closer. 

The glitz and chatter around you seemed to blur as the presenter finally took the stage to announce the nominees for Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture - Musical or Comedy. 

You felt Glen shift in his seat, his back straightening as his name was called alongside the other nominees. His hand brushed his thigh, and you noticed him take a deep breath, holding it for a moment before letting it out slowly. Instinctively, you leaned in just enough so your shoulder lightly pressed against his, a silent reminder that you were right there with him.

The presenter opened the envelope, the seconds stretching impossibly long. “And the award goes to... Sebastian Stan!”

The room erupted into applause as Sebastian rose from his seat, making his way to the stage. You clapped along with everyone else, but the knot of disappointment in your chest was impossible to ignore. Letting out a small, defeated breath, you glanced over at Glen.

He was smiling politely, clapping for Sebastian, but you saw the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. The kind of flicker only someone who truly knew him could catch. Others at the table offered their own words of encouragement, but Glen only nodded politely, his attention still half-focused on the stage.

Without thinking, you leaned closer, your voice low and meant just for him. “You’re still the most talented guy in the room.”

You reached over, resting your hand gently on his knee under the table, offering him the kind of comfort words alone couldn’t provide. For a moment, his gaze dropped to your hand, then back to your face. A small, grateful smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as his hand briefly covered yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of meaning.

Throughout the rest of the show, Glen leaned into your presence, subtly relying on you to keep him grounded. You noticed the way his body gradually relaxed, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night continued. 

When another winner gave a particularly heartfelt speech, Glen turned to you with a quiet chuckle. “At least I don’t have to worry about tripping on the way to the stage.”

You laughed softly, the sound drawing out a more genuine smile from him. “See? There’s always a silver lining.”

By the time the final award was announced and the audience began filtering out of the theater, Glen seemed more at ease. 

As the two of you stood to leave, he placed a hand on your back, guiding you through the crowd. “Thanks for keeping me sane tonight,” he said, his voice low but warm.

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the unspoken connection between you deepen as the evening came to a close.

The after-party was everything you expected it to be: glamorous, extravagant, and a little overwhelming. The main Golden Globes after-party felt less like a celebration and more like a carefully orchestrated networking event. The room was packed with A-list celebrities, producers, directors, and journalists, each armed with a drink in one hand and a carefully curated smile.

Music thumped in the background, but it barely registered over the hum of conversations and the clinking of champagne glasses. Glen stayed by your side at first, introducing you to a few people here and there. You exchanged pleasantries with actors whose faces you recognized from the big screen and smiled politely at directors whose names you tried not to forget. 

But before long, Glen was pulled away, whisked from one conversation to the next like the star of the evening. You watched as he posed for pictures, his easy charm making every interaction look effortless. He’d glance back at you occasionally, offering a reassuring smile or a quick wink, but you could tell even he was beginning to feel the strain of the crowd.

You nursed a drink at the edge of the room, trying to stay out of the way while still keeping Glen in your sights. It was easy to lose track of time amidst the chaos, but the constant flow of strangers and small talk started to take its toll. The energy in the room felt electric and draining all at once, and you found yourself wishing for a quieter corner to catch your breath.

After what felt like hours, Glen appeared at your side, his hand lightly brushing your arm to get your attention. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the noise around you. “This is… a lot, huh?”

You nodded, letting out a small laugh. “It’s a little overwhelming. How are you holding up?”

“I’ve smiled so much tonight my face might be stuck this way,” he joked, though there was a hint of exhaustion in his eyes. He glanced around the room, then back at you. “What do you say we head to my party? I think I’ve shaken enough hands and posed for enough pictures to last a lifetime.”

The suggestion was like a lifeline, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Glen’s shoulders relaxed visibly at your answer, and he gave you a small, grateful smile. He offered you his arm, the gesture both protective and grounding as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Despite the noise and flashing cameras still lingering near the doorway, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief as you stepped out into the cool night air.

The car ride to the rooftop bar was quiet, a welcome change from the chaos of the Golden Globes after-party. Glen leaned back against the seat, his shirt now unbuttoned to a second button and the faintest hint of exhaustion in his expression.

You glanced at him, smiling softly. “You know, most people would just go to bed after a night like this. Not go to another party.”

Glen chuckled, his head turning toward you. “What can I say? I’m not most people.”

When the car pulled up to the rooftop bar, Glen stepped out first, turning back to offer you his hand. “C’mon. Let’s go see everyone.”

The rooftop bar was stunning, its perimeter lined with fairy lights that cast a warm, golden glow. The city skyline sparkled in the distance, and the faint hum of music drifted through the air. Glen had rented the entire space, and as the two of you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cheerful buzz of conversation.

His parents were the first to spot you, their faces lighting up as they hurried over to greet Glen with warm hugs and congratulations. 

His mom pulled you into an embrace as well, her voice filled with genuine affection. “You look stunning tonight, sweetheart. And thank you for taking care of our boy out there.”

“Always,” you replied with a smile, feeling the ease that came with being around Glen’s family.

You scanned the room and spotted Leslie, Glen’s younger sister, waving excitedly from across the bar. She was all smiles as she made her way over, throwing her arms around you in a hug. 

“It’s been forever!” she exclaimed, pulling back to give you a once-over. “You look amazing! And that dress—ugh, you’re killing me.”

“You’re one to talk,” you teased, taking in her own dress. “You look incredible.”

Glen was quickly pulled into conversations with friends and other guests, his charm and warmth on full display as he moved through the room. You stayed behind with Leslie, the two of you settling into a quieter corner of the bar.

“So,” you said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Tell me everything about the engagement. I need details.”

Leslie’s face lit up, and she launched into a detailed recounting of the proposal—how her fiancé had asked, the secret planning, how he included her friends and family in on the surprise. She showed you the ring, a design that perfectly suited her, and the two of you gushed over wedding plans.

“I’m thinking late spring,” Leslie said, twirling her glass of wine between her fingers. “Something outdoors, simple but elegant. Glen keeps trying to offer to pay for everything, but I want to keep it low-key.”

“That sounds perfect,” you said, smiling. “And knowing Glen, he’ll find a way to contribute whether you want him to or not.”

Leslie laughed, nodding. “Oh, I know. He’s the best, though. We’re lucky to have him.”

“Yeah, we really are.” Your gaze drifted across the room to where Glen was laughing with a small group of friends, his easy smile making your own lips curve upward. His hand was resting casually in the pocket of his suit pants.

“You’ve got that look again,” Leslie said, a teasing lilt in her tone.

You blinked, snapping your gaze back to her. “What look?”

She grinned knowingly and nudged your arm with her elbow. “The ‘I’m totally into Glen but I’ll never admit it’ look.”

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks. “What? That’s ridiculous,” you said quickly, trying to laugh it off. “You’re crazy.”

“Uh-huh,” Leslie said, leaning back against the bar with a smirk. “Sure I am.”

You rolled your eyes, determined to brush off her teasing. “He’s my best friend, Les. That’s-” But before you could finish your sentence, Glen glanced over at the two of you. His eyes found yours across the room, and when he smiled—soft, warm, and undeniably genuine—you felt your words falter. 

You didn’t even realize you had stopped speaking until Leslie let out a low chuckle.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, barely containing her laughter. “You’ve got it bad.”

Realizing what just happened, you tore your gaze away from Glen, your face burning. 

“I do not,” you muttered, but the weak protest only made Leslie laugh harder.

She shook her head, her grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Honestly, I’ve suspected this for years, but that little moment right there? Total confirmation.”

“Okay, enough,” you said, waving your hands as if to physically push the conversation away. “Let’s focus less on your brother and my nonexistent love life. Let’s get back to your wedding.”

Leslie just smirked, clearly not buying your denial. “Fine, but for the record? He’s totally into you too.”

You gave Leslie a confused look, followed by a doubtful laugh. “Yeah, right?” you said, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Leslie raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your self-doubt. “Why do you think he wouldn’t be into you?” she asked, crossing her arms as if she were gearing up to debate.

You sighed, glancing down at your drink. “I mean…look at him,” you said, gesturing vaguely in Glen’s direction. “He could have literally anyone he wants. Models, actresses, anyone. And I’m just…” You trailed off, shrugging.

Leslie tilted her head, studying you with a knowing smile. “Just what?” she pressed.

“Just me,” you finished weakly, feeling a little silly for saying it out loud.

Leslie let out an exaggerated sigh, shaking her head like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Okay, first of all, that’s ridiculous. Second of all—” She paused, leaning in slightly for emphasis. “You’re the one he asked to be his date tonight. Not a model, not an actress, you.”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the truth of her words. “That’s just because we’re friends,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Friends,” Leslie repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Right. Because friends definitely look at each other the way he looks at you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up again. “He does not look at me any type of way,” you insisted, but Leslie wasn’t buying it.

She smirked, nodding toward Glen, who was now making his way across the room in your direction.

“Sure he doesn’t,” she said, her voice teasing. “But just in case you’re still in denial, why don’t you pay attention when he gets over here? You’ll see what I mean.”

Before you could respond, Glen reached the two of you, his presence immediately drawing your attention. 

“Hey,” he said, flashing that easy smile of his. “Am I interrupting something, or can I steal her for a bit?”

Leslie’s grin widened as she gave you a pointed look. “Not at all,” she said sweetly, stepping aside. “She’s all yours.”

You shot her a subtle glare, but Leslie just winked at you before turning to join the rest of the group. As Glen’s attention shifted back to you, your heart did that annoying fluttery thing it always seemed to do when he was around.

“You okay?” he asked, his gaze flicking over your face as if checking for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just catching up with Leslie.”

“Good,” he said, his smile softening. “She’s been excited to see you. I think she’s secretly more interested in hanging out with you than me tonight.”

You laughed, the sound helping to ease the tension swirling in your chest. “Well, to be fair, I am pretty great,” you teased, falling back into your usual banter with him.

“Can’t argue with that,” Glen said, his tone light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered a little too long, something that made your breath catch just slightly.

The atmosphere shifted subtly as the music transitioned to something slower, a beat just mellow enough to set a softer, almost romantic mood. The chatter in the room seemed to quiet slightly, replaced by the rhythmic sway of the melody. Glen glanced toward the small dance floor, where a few of his friends were starting to pair off, and then turned back to you.

“Come on,” he said, extending a hand toward you, his smile warm and inviting.

You shook your head immediately, taking a small step back. “You know I don’t dance,” you reminded him, your voice firm but playful.

His grin only widened, clearly undeterred. “And you know I don’t take no for an answer,” he teased, stepping closer and gently taking your hand before you could protest further.

“Glen,” you said, a hint of exasperation in your tone, but he was already pulling you toward the dance floor.

“Relax,” he said with a laugh, glancing back at you. “I’ll lead. All you have to do is follow.”

You sighed in resignation, realizing there was no escaping this. When you reached the dance floor, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his dress shirt. He wrapped an arm securely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.

“You’ve done this before,” he said lightly as he started to guide you to the rhythm of the music.

“Once or twice,” you admitted, though you still felt slightly self-conscious. “But I’m warning you—I’m not great at it.”

“You’re doing fine,” he assured you, his voice low and steady, as if the rest of the room didn’t exist.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Leslie standing by the bar. She was watching you with an unmistakable smirk, her arms crossed in triumph. When your eyes met hers, she gave you a knowing look, the kind that said, See? Told you so.

You rolled your eyes at her and shook your head, trying to silently tell her to knock it off. Glen noticed the exchange, his brow furrowing slightly as he glanced over at Leslie and then back down at you. 

“What am I missing?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, though your cheeks were already starting to warm.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he said, his tone teasing now. “What’s going on between you two?”

“Leslie’s just…being Leslie,” you said vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

But Glen wasn’t letting it go. He tilted his head, a slow smile spreading across his face as realization started to dawn on him. 

“Wait a minute…” he said, his gaze narrowing slightly. “Is she messing with you about something?”

“Not really,” you said, trying to sound casual.

“Not really?” he repeated, clearly unconvinced. His eyes flicked back toward Leslie, who was now openly grinning at the two of you. “Oh, she’s definitely messing with you about something,” he said with a laugh.

You groaned, your head dropping slightly as you muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”

Glen chuckled, his hand on your waist giving a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you,” he said, his tone playful but his smile soft.

For a moment, you forgot about Leslie entirely, your focus shifting back to Glen as you moved together in time with the music. His gaze lingered on you, his expression unexpectedly tender, and you felt your heart skip in a way that made you wonder if Leslie might actually have a point after all.

As the slower song faded out, you felt a moment of relief. But then the next song started, and your heart sank a little as the unmistakable notes of a love ballad filled the air. The kind that spoke of longing and intimacy, the kind that made you suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were still in Glen’s arms.

You glanced up at him, your lips parting to excuse yourself, but before you could step away, his hand on your back shifted, a gentle but deliberate pressure that kept you in place.

“Stay,” he said softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Glen, I—” you started, already shaking your head. There was no way you could dance to a love song with your best friend. It felt too…loaded.

“Just one more,” he murmured, and when your eyes met his, whatever protest you had ready fell away. There was something in the way he looked at you—something unspoken but undeniable. It wasn’t just a friendly look. It was softer, deeper, and for a moment, it left you breathless.

You nodded, barely, and he smiled—just a small, private curve of his lips that made your stomach flip.

He pulled you just a little closer this time, close enough that your chest brushed against his. The hold on your back shifted, his hand sliding just slightly lower, resting at the curve where your back met your waist. It wasn’t inappropriate—just enough to feel a little less like friendship and a little more like something else.

Without thinking, you leaned into him, your cheek resting lightly against his chest. His warmth was comforting, grounding, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting yourself get lost in the rhythm of the song and the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

You felt him tilt his head, the faintest brush of his cheek against the top of yours. It was such a small gesture, but it sent your heart into a quiet frenzy, a rhythm that seemed to echo in time with the music.

Neither of you said a word as you moved together, swaying gently to the melody. The first verse passed, then the chorus, and you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be here, like the rest of the world had melted away.

The song came to an end, the final notes fading into a hum of conversation and clinking glasses around you. Glen didn’t move right away, and for a moment, neither did you. You stayed in his arms, feeling the warmth of his hand still pressed against your back, the steady beat of his heart against your cheek.

But then someone called his name from across the room, breaking the fragile bubble that had surrounded you both. Glen’s arm slipped away, though his hand lingered on your elbow for a second longer than necessary.

“I’ll be right back,” he said softly, his eyes lingering on yours, as if reluctant to leave.

You nodded, offering a small smile, and watched as he crossed the room to greet a new arrival. The absence of his touch left you feeling untethered, a sudden awareness of just how much you’d let yourself melt into him during that dance.

Needing a moment to collect yourself—and maybe something stronger than a moment of quiet—you made your way to the bar. You ordered a glass of wine and took a steadying sip, trying to push the last few minutes out of your mind.

Of course, Leslie found you before you even made it halfway through your drink.

“So,” she started, leaning casually against the bar with an unmistakable smirk. “That was…something.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the blush already creeping up your neck. “Don’t start.”

“Start what?” she asked innocently, though her grin was anything but. “I’m just saying, I don’t think I’ve ever seen my brother look at someone like that. Or hold someone like that. Or—”

“Leslie,” you warned, though the heat in your cheeks betrayed your attempt at composure.

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself. “I’m just saying, for someone who insists she doesn’t dance, you looked awfully comfortable out there dancing with my brother.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you replied, taking another sip of your wine in a futile attempt to drown your nerves.

“Doesn’t it?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. “Because from where I was standing, it looked like something more.”

You shot her a sharp look, but she just shrugged, still grinning.

“Relax,” she said, nudging your arm playfully. “I’m not about to make a big announcement or anything. But if you don’t see it yet…” She trailed off, giving you a knowing look before gesturing subtly toward Glen, who was still across the room, laughing with a small group of friends.

You followed her gaze despite yourself, and your heart gave a traitorous little lurch at the sight of him. His smile was easy and charming, but every now and then, his eyes flicked toward the bar, as if checking to see if you were still there.

“See what I mean?” Leslie said softly, pulling your attention back to her.

You shook your head, trying to play it off. “You’re reading into things.”

“Am I?” she challenged, her tone light but her expression serious. “Because I’ve known Glen my whole life, and I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. So, maybe it’s time you stop convincing yourself it’s all in your head.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, and you found yourself speechless, staring down into your glass of wine as if it held the answers you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Leslie let the silence linger for a moment before giving your arm another playful nudge. “Just think about it, okay?”

And with that, she pushed off the bar and disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts—and the undeniable truth you were no longer sure you could ignore.

You stepped away from the bar, glass of wine in hand, and gravitated toward a quieter corner of the rooftop. The laughter and conversation from the party grew softer with every step, the music fading into a pleasant hum in the background. A gentle breeze brushed against your skin as you approached the railing, the Los Angeles skyline glittering like a sea of stars before you.

You leaned against the cool metal and took a slow sip of your wine, your thoughts drifting back to Leslie’s words. Was she onto something? No, she couldn’t be. Glen was your best friend, the one constant in your life through every twist and turn. You would know if he felt something for you… right?

But then again…

You sighed and rested your elbow on the railing, pressing your glass lightly to your lips. Leslie had known Glen her entire life. If anyone could read him, it was her. And the way she spoke—like she’d been holding onto this knowledge for a while—left you with an uncomfortable sense of doubt.

Could she be right? Could you really have missed something that big?

The sound of footsteps approaching pulled you from your thoughts. You looked over, expecting another party guest, but instead, you found Glen standing beside you. The velvet tuxedo jacket was now off, and his hair was a little mussed from probably running his hand through it one too many times, but his smile was warm and familiar.

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning casually against the railing next to you. “You okay?”

You managed a small smile and nodded. “Yeah, just needed a breather.”

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calm and steady, before arching a brow. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Leslie pestering you at the bar, would it?”

You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched with the hint of a smile. “No.”

“Uh-huh,” Glen said, clearly not buying it. “Because Leslie may or may not have told me to come find you.”

Your heart gave a jolt, and you turned to look at him. “She what?”

“She didn’t say why,” Glen added quickly, holding up a hand as if to reassure you. “But… she said…enough.”

“Enough?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his smile fading into something softer, something more sincere. “Enough to make me realize I’ve been putting this off for too long.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Glen stepped closer. His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to gauge your reaction before saying anything else. 

“I wanted to thank you,” he said, his voice low. “For coming with me tonight. For being here for me—not just tonight, but always.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. There was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you, that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“And I need you to know,” he continued, taking another step closer, “how much you mean to me.”

The space between you was nearly nonexistent now, and for a moment, neither of you said a word. His eyes searched yours, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but wasn’t sure if he should.

You felt it then—that shift Leslie had hinted at, the one you’d been too afraid to fully acknowledge. This wasn’t just your best friend standing in front of you. This was Glen, the man who had been at your side for years, looking at you like you were the only person in the world.

He took a deep breath and leaned in slightly, pausing when your noses were almost touching. His eyes flickered to your lips, then back to your eyes, giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you met his gaze, your heart thundering in your chest.

Glen’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then his eyes fluttered shut as he raised a hand to your face. His palm was warm as it cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

You closed your eyes just as his lips found yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as though he was afraid you might pull away. But when you didn’t, when you leaned into him and placed a hand lightly against his chest, he deepened the kiss, his other arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

The world around you faded—the music, the laughter, the skyline. All that mattered was the way Glen’s lips moved against yours, the way he held you like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath as you both stood there, processing what had just happened. Glen’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing soft, absentminded circles against your skin. Your heart raced, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the surreal, breathtaking reality of the moment.

Finally, Glen broke the silence, his lips curving into that familiar, playful grin that always managed to put you at ease. “So…” he began, his tone light but his eyes still holding that intensity from before. “Does this mean you’ll let me take you to next year’s Globes too?”

The laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it, breaking the tension in the most perfect way. You shook your head, resting your forehead against his chest as a smile spread across your lips. “We’ll see if you behave, Cowboy.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rested. “Behave? I’m a perfect gentleman,” he said, his voice tinged with mock indignation.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him, arching a brow. “Oh, really? Perfect gentlemen don’t usually kiss their best friends on rooftops in the middle of a party.”

His grin widened as he shrugged, his hand still resting lightly on your waist. “Maybe I got tired of being just your best friend.”

Your breath caught again at the sincerity in his tone, the way his teasing words carried so much truth. Glen had always been charming, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment, but this felt different. This felt real.

You didn’t respond right away, unsure of what to say, but instead of pushing, Glen just smiled and leaned down to press a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead. And with that, he stepped back slightly, though his hand still lingered on your waist, as if to let you know that even with the space between you, he was still there, still yours.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, searching his eyes for any hint of hesitation, but all you saw was sincerity. The smile that still lingered on his lips wasn’t one of teasing; it was genuine, like he was relieved to have crossed that line with you.

“I don’t know what to say,” you confessed, your voice quieter than usual. “This is... a lot to take in, you know?”

Glen nodded, his thumb brushing lightly over the fabric of your dress, a small gesture that seemed to ground you. 

“Yeah,” he said softly, “I get it.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he added, “But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for a brief moment, you closed your eyes, letting yourself truly hear what he was saying. The uncertainty that had clouded your mind earlier began to dissipate, replaced by something far more powerful—trust.

“I just don’t want to mess things up, Glen,” you admitted, looking up at him again, your voice low but clear. “We’ve been friends for so long. I don’t want to lose that.”

His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb now tracing along your jawline as he spoke, his voice steady. “We won’t lose it,” he promised, his gaze never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t let that happen. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the sincerity in his words making your heart swell. “Okay,” you whispered, the word feeling like a vow in the quiet space between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved, as if the world had paused just for you two. It was peaceful, despite everything—the chaos of the party, the swirling emotions inside you. Glen was here, right in front of you, and he was offering you something more. Something you hadn’t expected but couldn’t deny.

Then, in the silence that followed, he grinned, that familiar playful glint returning to his eyes. “So, does this mean you’ll let me take you on a date?”

You tilted your head slightly, looking up at him, and couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes twinkled with excitement. He was waiting, his expression open and genuine, and suddenly, it didn’t feel like anything was uncertain anymore. The nerves, the doubts—they melted away in the warmth of his gaze.

"Yeah," you said softly, your voice filled with the quiet confidence that had come from years of friendship and, somehow, this unexpected moment. "I'd like that."

His smile deepened, and for a second, it was as if time stood still. He reached out, brushing a stray piece of hair from your face, his hand lingering on your cheek.

Without another word, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. It wasn’t rushed, nor was it shy. It was everything you hadn’t known you needed.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours. You both stayed there for a moment, eyes closed, as if savoring the moment before the world could rush back in.

"Come on," Glen said, pulling you gently by the hand, “Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

As he led you back toward the party, his fingers intertwined with yours, and the moment felt complete. You’d crossed the line, yes, but it was the best kind of line to cross—one that made you excited for whatever came next.

You shared one last look, a silent promise between you two, before re-entering the party, side by side, ready for whatever the night—and your future—held.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

borrowed clothes

words: 800

warnings: 18+ only, smut, female receiving oral, unprotected p in v sex, mentions of male masturbation, friends to lovers

“rafe, can i borrow your panthers jersey?” you ask, walking into his closet without even waiting for permission.

“you know, you always steal my clothes and never give me any of yours in return.” rafe points out, following you in to the walk in, seeing you already looking through his shirts, trying to find the nfl jersey.

“its sports night, rafe.” you roll your eyes. your favorite bar does themed nights that allow discounted drinks if you come in theme. “you have a million sports things to wear, and i have none.” you remind your best friend.

“all im saying is its unfair.” rafe smiles at you as you find the jersey you were thinking of, knowing his closet better than he does. it’s just a part of being friends for your entire life, best friends.

“okay, here.” you tug your black tshirt off, having planned to wear it underneath rafes jersey, but you can deal with just your bra. rafe looks away from your chest, despite having seen you in just your underwear or swimsuit a million times.

you toss the material at him before tugging the oversized jersey over your head, tucking the front into your tiny miniskirt. “how do i look?” you ask rafe, who is now holding your discarded tshirt in his hand.

rafe nods. “good.” its all he can force himself to say. better than sexy, hot, so good that he wants to bend you over right in the closet and shove that little skirt up and bury his cock in your-

“great!” you smile. “now we gotta find something sporty for you.” you hum, turning back to his closet.

--

“rafey?” you call, entering tanneyhill without knocking. you haven’t asked permission to enter since you were a child, with rafes house being your second home.

“he’s in the shower.” wheezie calls out from the living room.

“thanks wheez!” you ruffle her hair as you walk past, teasing her like she was your own little sister.

you head up to rafes room, flopping onto the bed as you pull your phone out, waiting for rafe to finish up in the shower, hoping he won’t take too long.

you scroll through tiktok, letting out a yawn with a big stretch, readjusting and sliding your hand under rafes pillow. you frown when realize your fingers graze over a weird material, feeling oddly stiff and not something that belongs on rafes bed.

you sit up, moving the pillow to reveal your black tshirt, now covered in white stains. you frown and move it closer to inspect the fabric, eyes widening when you realize what you are holding in your hands.

your mind moves at a thousand miles a minute, realizing that rafe has been jacking off into your shirt. the implications are clear, the one piece of clothing item that he has of yours, and he uses it to get himself off?

you toss the piece of fabric back down, slamming the pillow back on top of it right as rafe opens the bathroom door, towel wrapped around his waist.

“i-i can explain.”

--

“f-fuck!” you shout out, rafes head buried in your cunt, tongue lapping over your pussy, finally tasting you like he's long awaited to. “why did it take us so long to do this?”

rafe just smiles against your cunt, glad that he didn't need to give a real explanation as you hopped off the bed and kissed him, realizing that your feelings echoed his after seeing your tshirt, suddenly feeling just as pent up.

“should have just fucked me instead of cumming all over my shirt.” you whine as his tongue flicks over your clit.

“ill buy you a new one.” rafe sucks your clit into his mouth, determined to make you cum. you let out a cry, your high building.

a shiver spreads throughout your body as rafes mouth brings you to orgasm, a scream being forced out of your body, not caring that there are other people in the house that could hear.

“fuck, you taste so good baby.” rafe moans into your cunt, tongue swiping out again until you gently push his head away, not able to take anymore on your sensitive clit.

rafe rises up, draping himself over your body. he gives you a deep kiss, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

“i can't believe you were jacking off into my shirt thinking of me.” you giggle. 

“oh god, you're never gonna let me forget that, are you?” rafe groans, moving lower to rub his cock between your folds, soaking it in your wetness.

you laugh before it's cut off by rafes lips.

“can i fuck you y/n?” rafe asks, lining himself up with your entrance.

“yeah.” you nod. “yeah, need you.”

“last chance to rethink this. because once i enter you, we can't just be friends anymore.”

“i know, i know.” you peck a kiss to rafes lips. “hurry up and fuck me already.”

rafe smiles down at you as he slowly presses forward, your walls giving way to his thick cock.

“i love you.” rafe admits with a gasp.

“i love you too.”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[charmedimsure]

PARTNERS IN (BUSTING) CRIME || hwang jun-ho

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x f!reader

summary: You bond with your new partner Jun-ho

word count: 2.5k

warnings: drinking. i think that's it

A/N: gotta write something with my OG squid game boy 🫶. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

You smirk as a motorcycle rounds the corner, holding a man without a helmet and a girl on the back. "This one's all your's, newbie."

He sighs, a small grin on his face. "You know, I've been a cop longer than you have."

"Well, you're new here, so that makes you the newbie." You practically push him out of the squad car.

Jun-ho rolls his eyes, approaching the pulled over vehicle. "You're not wearing a helmet. Your license, please."

"Damn it," the man groans. "Isn't this entrapment? Hiding to catch people is shady. You want to squeeze money out of broke citizens?"

"Your license, please."

The man hands it over. You watch as the girl behind him gets off the bike.

"Hold on." She walks up to your partner. "Look can't you just let us go. I'm wearing one."

Jun-ho looks at her. "No, ma'am."

The girl smiles at him, bending to get a better look at his face from under his hat. "Hey, you're really hot."

You nearly choke as she squeals, crossing your arms and leaning against the back of the squad car, an amused smile on your face.

"I could charge you with obstruction," Jun-ho says, not even looking at her.

"You're a tough cookie," she says. You need to hold yourself back from bursting out laughing, feeling actual pain from your efforts when she pulls out her phone and starts posing for selfies with your partner, who is still ignoring her existence.

The ticket prints from Jun-ho's vest, and he walks to the man on the bike, the girl following him. "The fine for not wearing a helmet is 20,000 won. Pay it on time."

"Hey, can I post this picture online?" The girl asks.

"Yes please," you say under your breath, a few chuckles escaping your mouth.

"Are you on Instagram? Let's follow each other!"

The man starts his bike and drives off, leaving the girl standing there. She chases after him, and this time you can't hold back your laugh as she curses him out and throws her helmet at him.

Jun-ho laughs at the scene before turning to you, already knowing what's about to come.

"Why didn't you follow her on Insta?" you ask, a teasing smile on your face. "That could've been the start of something beautiful."

Your partner rolls his eyes, a smile on his face as he walks to the driver's side of the car. "She's not my type."

You walk to your side of the car. "I don't understand what's not to like. She could be your own personal fan girl." You mimic her squealing, jumping up and down and clapping your hands. Jun-ho laughs and gets in the car, you following him.

Jun-ho had been transferred to your precinct for traffic about a month ago, and you had been assigned as partners two weeks ago. So far you've enjoyed having him as a partner. For one, he's competent, which is definitely a good thing. He also has a sense of humor, something that your last partner lacked. He had requested a new partner when you put childproof locks on everything in his cubicle. When you pulled the same prank on Jun-ho, he just laughed it off. And, of course, that girl wasn't wrong - Jun-ho is very easy on the eyes.

"Alright, Officer Picky," you say as you close the door. "What is your type, then?"

Despite trying to quell it, a feeling of nervous hope bubbles inside of you.

"Definitely moms," Jun-ho says with a smile. "The older the better."

You let out a loud laugh. "What about grandmas?"

"Even better," he chuckles.

You smile fondly at him, and he gives you a confused look.

"What?"

"I'm just so happy you're not lame like my last partner," you chuckle. You slap the dashboard of the squad car, leaning back in your seat with a mischievous smile. "Let's go! Crime doesn't wait for us!"

Jun-ho playfully rolls his eyes as he starts the engine, pulling off the side of the road and back onto the street.

<>

Jun-ho smiles as you point the radar gun at the squirrel running down the street in front of the car.

You turn to him, an amused smile on your face. "That squirrel is going 32 in a 25. Should we bring him in?"

"He's getting away, it'd be a lost cause," he says.

You curse under your breath. "We'll get him next time."

Jun-ho laughs. He's been on traffic for six months now, and he's been enjoying it much more than he thought he would. There's definitely a lot less stress on him than there was as a detective. It's much less dangerous, so his mom is happy with the change.

He also has to give credit to you for making traffic enjoyable. Your humor keeps patrol from getting boring. And he'd be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy being around you. Watching the smile bloom on your face when one of you makes a bad joke is highlight of his day. He's not sure when your laugh became his favorite sound, but he does know that he doesn't think he can go a day without hearing it.

"So," you say, dragging out the O. "Some of the guys are going to grab a drink tonight. Are you coming?"

Jun-ho feels his heartbeat quicken just a bit. "Uh, yeah, I think so." He feels heat rushing to his cheeks. "Are you?"

You smile, biting your bottom lip as you nod. Jun-ho is startled by his urge to pull your lip free with his thumb. Instead, he grips the steering wheel.

"I'll see you there, then." He looks back at the road. "Oh, there's the squirrel!"

You gasp, flipping on the siren. "Let's get him!"

Jun-ho quickly turns the siren off, scolding you through his laugh.

<>

You step into the bar, immediately locating your coworkers based on the amount of noise they're making. With a small laugh to yourself, you walk over to them, clapping one on the back as you come up from behind them. "I have never met a louder group of people in my life."

They all cheer when they see you, raising their beers in greeting. One of your coworkers orders one for you, and you thank the bartender as they put it in front of the stool you're getting on.

"So what have I missed?" you ask, raising the bottle to your lips.

"Da-hae was drooling over that girl by the window," someone says, making everyone burst out laughing.

The man in question's face turns red. "Was not!"

"Yeah, he wasn't drooling," your friend Sun-hi says. "He was just staring like a psychopath."

You nearly spit your beer out, leaning on Sun-hi's shoulder to laugh.

Yong-gi, another one of your coworkers, looks toward the back of the bar, waving for someone to come over. "Jun-ho, come on. Your partner just got here."

You turn to see Jun-ho approaching your group with a bashful smile on his face. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. He's wearing blue jeans and a black t-shirt that perfectly hugs his biceps. He picks up his beer, giving you a teasing smile. "Nice of you to finally join us."

You put your hands up in fake surrender. "Considering I had to stop home first, I actually made it here in record time."

"So Jun-ho tells us you tried to arrest a squirrel today?" Yong-gi laughs.

"He was breaking the speed limit and I took a sacred oath to protect this community. Jun-ho's the one who let him get away!"

<>

After about an hour of laughing and joking, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, Sun-hi following right behind you.

Once you're done and come out of the stall, Sun-hi smiles at you through the mirror. "So, are you finally gonna make a move on Jun-ho tonight?"

You look up at her, startled, making her laugh. "Please, you looked like you wanted to fuck him right there in the middle of the bar." She takes her chapstick out of her bag, reapplying. "You should go for it."

You shake your head, turning on the sink and getting soap. "Yeah, because it's such a good idea for me to try to hook up with my partner. He definitely won't request a transfer after that."

She smiles. "I don't think he would. That boy wants you just as badly as you want him."

You roll your eyes, turning off the sink and grabbing a few paper towels.

"I'm serious!" she defends. "You guys remind me of me and my husband before we started dating."

You sigh. Sun-hi and her husband are absolutely perfect together. You can only hope to have a relationship like their's someday.

"Look, if he says something, I'll say yes, but I'm not gonna mess this up. He's the best partner I've had and I'm not going back to another lame one."

Sun-hi groans. "Fine."

<>

Jun-ho takes a sip of his beer, nodding along to the story Da-hae is telling him, though his eyes are on you. He watches you bend over the pool table, subconsciously sticking your tongue out as you focus on the striped ball you want to get into the socket. You hit the cue ball and it knocks the 10 ball right into the hole, and the triumphant smile on your face as you add to your lead against Yong-gi has Jun-ho breaking out in a smile of his own.

"Are you even listening to me?" Da-hae asks, breaking Jun-ho out of his little trance.

"Yeah, man," he says.

"What was I just talking about?"

"Uhh, crime?"

Da-hae rolls his eyes. "You have got to ask her out already."

Jun-ho raises an eyebrow at his fellow cop. "And why would I do that?"

"Because you've been looking at her like a love-sick fool ever since you transferred here." Da-hae points towards the bar. "And because if you don't, someone else will."

Jun-ho follows his finger and sees a man standing with his friends, his gaze on you in a way that ties Jun-ho's stomach in knots.

"She's a good person, and so are you," Da-hae says, clapping a hand on Jun-ho's shoulder. "Don't miss out."

Jun-ho nods, taking another sip of his beer. Another coworker of theirs comes over and changes the subject, but his mind stays on Da-hae's words.

<>

The clock hits midnight, and most of the cops have left, needing to get up for another shift tomorrow. You and Jun-ho are two of the last to leave, both having off the next day.

Jun-ho feels a hand on his shoulder and turns his head to see you standing next to him. "I think I'm gonna head out. I'll see you Monday, though."

Jun-ho turns to you. "Let me drive you home. I was planning on leaving too and that way you won't have to pay for a cab."

You smile, nodding your head. You both say goodbye to the few that are left and head out to Jun-ho's car.

The ride to your apartment building is uncharacteristically quiet. Not uncomfortable, but quiet. You've driven with Jun-ho more times than you can count, it's literally your job, and usually the car is filled with chatter and laughter. Tonight, however, a peaceful silence envelops you like a nice, fluffy blanket.

He pulls in front of your building and an idea pops into your head, making you turn to him. "Hey, while I have you here, can you come take a look at my thermostat? It's been acting up."

"Yeah, no problem," he says, following you out of the car and up the stairs to your floor.

You unlock your door and step inside your apartment, letting Jun-ho walk in after you. He smiles as he sees your place, the comfy throw blankets messily hung over your couch, obviously used very often. This isn't the first time Jun-ho has been in your apartment, but he notices new things every time he comes.

Your digital picture frame catches his eye, smiling as he sees pictures of you and your friends and family. His face softens when another picture pops up. You're sitting in the squad car, smiling at the camera and throwing up peace signs as Jun-ho face-palms in the background at a bad joke you had made. He laughs at the memory, getting your attention.

He smiles at you, pointing to the frame. "I didn't think I'd make the frame."

You feel your cheeks heat up knowing that he saw that. "You're one of my closest friends, of course you're on there."

His heart flutters knowing that he's an important person in your life. You lead him over to the thermostat, leaning against the wall by it. Jun-ho removes the cover, checking the wiring.

You take the opportunity to admire the man in front of you. His hair falls perfectly over his forehead, his face scrunched up in concentration. Jun-ho may be the most perfect person you've ever met, both in terms of looks and personality. It's crazy that he's single. And here you are, doing nothing to show him your feelings.

Jun-ho lets out a small "aha", snapping you out of your thoughts. He holds the rubber around one of the wires, carefully pushing it into the socket. You hear the air turn on and smile.

"Good work, Officer," you tease.

He puts the cover back on with a smile. "You're welcome, ma'am, anything to help a citizen."

You lightly slap his arm, making him break out laughing. "What have I said about calling me 'ma'am'?"

"To call you it as much as possible."

You slap him again, making him laugh harder. "I said don't call me ma'am." You continue hitting him.

"Okay, okay, stop assaulting me," Jun-ho chuckles, catching your wrist before you can hit him again. You move to hit him with your other hand but he catches that wrist as well, smiling down at you. He examines your face, memorizing every detail. Da-hae's words from the bar echo in his mind. Finding his courage, Jun-ho releases your wrists, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pulling you into him.

You gasp in surprise as his lips land on yours. You quickly recover, though, running one hand through his hair and putting the other on his chest, feeling his muscles.

Jun-ho pushes you against the wall, smiling against your lips. He pulls back, keeping his forehead against your own. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to do that."

You smile up at him. "Me too."

He leans back in, kissing you again, enjoying the feeling of you against him. You happily kiss him back, opening when he darts his tongue out to trace your lips.

You pull back this time, looking at the man with a smile on your face. "Y'know, the others probably had bets on when this was gonna happen."

Jun-ho lets out a laugh. "We should mess with them. Ruin all their bets."

"I knew I liked you for a reason," you say, kissing him again as he chuckles on your lips. That can wait for Monday, though. All that matters right now is that he finally got the girl.

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

[imloyaltoscoups]

just platonic? | yoon jeonghan

Once again, you're at Jeonghan's apartment, casually scrolling through Netflix on the TV, searching for a good show to watch, when you hear him sigh from the kitchen. It’s one of those exaggerated sighs that usually means he’s trying to get your attention without actually asking for it.

“Something wrong?” you call out, not looking up.

“I don’t know. Is there?” Jeonghan replies, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. You can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

You finally glance up, seeing him leaning against the kitchen counter, holding a mug of coffee. His hair is slightly messy, falling into his eyes, and he’s wearing that oversized shirt he always claims is ‘comfy,’ even though you know he just likes how it makes him look.

“What are you on about now?” you ask, putting the remote down.

Jeonghan shrugs, taking a slow sip from his mug, his eyes never leaving yours. “Nothing much. Just wondering why someone would spend so much time on the screen when there’s such captivating company right here.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh please, you just want attention. You’re like a cat, always craving someone to pet your ego.”

“And yet,” he says, his voice lowering a fraction, “you’re the one who always ends up giving me exactly what I want.”

You feel your face warm slightly at the suggestive undertone in his voice, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flustered. “Only because you’re so high maintenance. Someone’s got to keep you in check.”

Jeonghan’s smirk widens. He puts down his mug and walks over to the couch, sitting down a bit too close for comfort. “You sure that’s all it is? Because it kind of feels like you enjoy taking care of me.”

You huff, trying to ignore the way his leg is brushing against yours. “Someone has to. God knows you’d starve if I didn’t make you dinner every now and then.”

“True,” he says, his voice softening just a bit. “But I don’t just mean the food. You take care of me in other ways, too.”

The sudden sincerity in his tone catches you off guard, and you glance at him, meeting his gaze. There’s something in his eyes, something deep and familiar, and you know he’s not just talking about the meals you cook or the times you make sure he’s getting enough rest.

You quickly look away, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, someone’s gotta make sure you’re not getting too full of yourself.”

He chuckles, his shoulder bumping against yours. “Too late for that, don’t you think? You made me this way.”

“Yeah, right,” you mutter, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips.

There’s a brief pause, and then he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “You know, if you wanted to keep me in check more often, you could always move in. Think about it—all the time in the world to tell me off for being too charming.”

You laugh, pushing him away lightly. “And spend even more time listening to you whine? Thanks but no thanks.”

Jeonghan grins, undeterred. “I’m just saying, you might enjoy it. We’d be good together, you know? Like an old married couple—arguing one minute, making up the next.”

There’s that undertone again, the one that’s somewhere between a tease and a promise. You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time, but there’s no denying the butterflies you feel.

“Keep dreaming, Hannie,” you say, though there’s no real bite in your words.

He just smiles, leaning back on the couch and stretching out like a contented cat. “Don’t worry, I plan to.”

You lean back, crossing your arms as you try to ignore the heat rising in your face. Jeonghan, as usual this fcker, seems to have an uncanny ability to make you flustered, even when you know he’s just messing with you.

He glances at you sideways, his lips quirking into that sly smile that tells you he’s thinking something far more wicked than what he’s letting on. “You know, for someone who’s always pretending like we’re ‘just friends,’ you really do let me get a little too close sometimes.” His eyes flicker down to where your leg brushes against his, and you know he’s doing it on purpose.

You scoff, trying to keep your composure. “We are just friends. Stop trying to make it into something else.”

He leans back, his body close enough that the air between you seems charged. “Sure we are,” he says in that tone, the one that’s laced with something unspoken. He reaches over, his hand resting casually on your thigh. “Just friends who can’t keep their hands off each other, huh?”

You want to push his hand away, but instead, you let it stay there for a second longer than you should. “It’s not like that,” you murmur, though the lack of conviction in your voice betrays you.

“Oh, really?” he says, voice dropping lower, the teasing replaced with something more insistent. “Then why does your heart beat faster every time I touch you?” His hand moves just a little higher, the fingers pressing lightly against the edge of your shorts. “You can’t deny it—we’ve crossed a line. You’re not just my friend, and you know it.”

You give him a side-eye, your lips pressed into a thin line. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”

He shifts closer, his thigh pressing against yours now, and his hand that is resting on your thigh move casually to rests on the back of the couch, inches from your shoulder. His voice drops lower, almost a whisper, but still with that undeniable edge of cocky arrogance. “I mean, we both know how good we are at this whole... arrangement. Can’t really call it ‘just friends’ when we’re in bed, can we?”

You stiffen slightly, but you refuse to let him get under your skin. “You’re ridiculous. Stop acting like you’ve got me all figured out.”

Jeonghan’s eyes sparkle with amusement as he watches you try to keep your composure. “It’s cute, you know,” he says, almost mockingly, “watching you pretend like this is all so innocent. But we both know better, don’t we?”

You snort, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “You’re really full of yourself today, huh?”

“Am I?” His smirk is sharp, teasing. “Or are you just mad you can’t deny it? Again we’ve already the crossed line, and we both know it. We’ve had our fun. But let’s be real here—you like it. I like it. And it works. So why not just embrace it?”

The way his words hang in the air makes it hard to focus on anything else. You try to ignore the effect it’s having on you—the little shiver creeping up your spine. You know you should pull away, but somehow, you don’t. Instead, you find yourself leaning to him just a little closer, almost subconsciously, as if your body is betraying your mind.

Jeonghan notices this, his smirk deepening. “See? You’re not fooling anyone. So why don’t we make it easier on ourselves? Why don’t you just move in with me? We already spend so much time together, and you’re always here anyway.” His eyes glint with mischief. “It’ll be so much more convenient, don’t you think?”

You let out a deep sigh before looking at him, “I told you before,” you say, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m not moving in with you. You’re too much to handle.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow, leaning closer, his lips just a breath away from your ear. “Am I? Because I think you’ve gotten pretty comfortable with all the ‘handling’ I’ve been doing.”

The way he says it makes you flush, but you’re not about to admit it. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Hannie. I’m not that easy.”

He chuckles softly, a sound that’s laced with both humor and something darker, more dangerous. “Oh, I know you’re not,” he says quietly. “But you still let me in. And that’s all I really need to know.” He then leans in closer, his breath brushing against your ear as he speaks again, his voice lower, more intimate. “And honestly, I think we’d be even better if we were together more... You know, living together. Think of all the time we’d have to... reconnect. You wouldn’t have to run home after a long night. We could take things slower... or not.”

The way his breath brushes your ear makes you shiver, and you can feel the heat creeping up your neck as he continues, his words slipping into that seductive tone he always seems to master so effortlessly. His lips are dangerously close now, his presence overwhelming, and despite yourself, you’re starting to feel the pull of what he’s suggesting.

“You really know how to push my buttons, don’t you?” you manage to say, though your voice falters slightly, betraying the effect he’s having on you.

Jeonghan chuckles softly, his lips brush against your ear, just a feather-light touch, but it makes your pulse quicken. “I know you like this. Don’t pretend you don’t.”, he whispers.

You swallow hard, your breath hitching as he continues, his lips now tracing the curve of your ear. You try to keep your cool, but your heart is racing in your chest, and your mind is clouded by the tension between you two. His proximity is too much, and you feel your resolve will start to crack anytime.

“You’re so damn persistent,” you mutter, trying to keep your composure. “Always getting what you want.”

“You’re not so hard to figure out, you know,” Jeonghan replies with a smirk that’s all too knowing. He moves his lips down to your jaw, kissing just below your ear before pulling back slightly. “I already know how to make you give in. But imagine if I had more time with you... more time to make you forget everything but me.”

His lips are soft as they peck your cheek, just a brief, innocent touch, but it sends a jolt of warmth through your body. He doesn’t give you time to respond, immediately tilting your chin gently to face him. You don’t pull away, but your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock onto yours, deep and intense.

“I don’t just want you to be here for a night, or a weekend, or when it’s convenient. I want all of you,” he murmurs, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks. “I want you here, with me, all the time. Think about it—having everything we want, whenever we want. No more distance, no more playing games.”

It’s not a suggestion anymore. It’s more like an invitation, wrapped in all the quiet promises that make your heart race and your mind spin. You try to hold onto the threads of control, but his gaze is too damn intense, too disarming. Your mind flashes with the idea of being with him all the time—living together, waking up to him every day, hearing his voice close by at all hours. And just the thought has your stomach flipping.

He tilts his head slightly, still close enough for his lips to brush against your skin every time he speaks. “You already leave things at my place. You think I don’t notice? You’re halfway there already. We’re already halfway there.”

You bite your lip, caught somewhere between wanting to push him away and wanting to pull him closer. He’s always been like this—persistent, unrelenting, and yet somehow irresistible. It’s dangerous. It’s thrilling. And the worst part is, you’re starting to want it, too.

“You’re really a pain in the ass,” you say, but the edge in your voice is gone, replaced with something softer, something that gives away just how much he’s getting to you.

“I’m only persistent because I know exactly what I want,” he says with a grin, brushing your hair behind your ear as his fingers graze your skin. His gaze flicks to your lips, and the tension between you both heightens in a heartbeat.

You can barely find your voice, the words coming out quieter than you intend. “And you always get what you want, right?”

Jeonghan’s grin deepens, his lips barely brushing yours as he speaks, his voice low and smooth. “Exactly. So what’s stopping you?”

p.s: I leave this to your imagination

....... ≿━━━━━༺MASTERLIST༻━━━━━≾ .......

[screampied]

IDK HOW TO START THIS REQUEST🔥🔥🔥

Suguru fucking reader while they’re wearing his hoodie 🙏

see what I’m getting at right…..( + I hope ur doing good Vegas 🗣️ )

❤︎ ໋𓈒 suguru fucking you in his oversized hoodie

warnings. fem! reader, cowgirl, praise, dirty talk, choking, unprotected, mdni.

“you’re a dirty girl, you know?” and his voice, it was so smooth— a risqué rasp hides behind it as both of his hands firmly attach towards your waist. you’re suppressing moan after moan as you’re rocking back and forth against him, feeling him reach such deep pits of your entrance. your walls continue to clamp around him, squeezing him tight and it makes a low groan depart from his sheeny lips. “i… i’m startin’ to see why you like wearin’ my hoodies, sweetheart. so you can ride me with them on, huhh.”

he’s so hefty, geto was far more thick than he was long and the quaver you felt in your thighs had you aching…

he stares at you with the slyest expression. even something as simple as his gaze was sexy, he studied your frame and ran his fingers against the soft cotton fabric you wore. one of his old hoodies, a dark cerulean blue with a random band name stitched near the very back. “. . s-suguru,” you’d huff out, leaning into his neck to gingerly nibble against his skin. “touch me more, feel my body a little more.”

“oh but baby, you know i don’t like being demanded,” he replies cheekily, guiding your hips in such a way. he grips your waist, swaying them further against his lap and you moan at the way his stretch from his cock wore you thin. “if you want me to touch you more, you know what to do,” and he lightly grabs your chin, making you gaze right into his darkened irises. “pretty please, suguru. let’s start from there, hm?”

a tease—a simple way to describe geto, he loved getting under your skin.

you made it so easy for him too, his eyes mindlessly roam all over your body and he groans. something about seeing you ride him with his old hoodie gets him hard, you feel his cock twitch inside you before you grind just a tad bit forward toward him.

“pretty please,” you huff out in shortened breaths, clinging to your final pants. a simple thing as breathing was even hard for you, you’re having a competition with your own each breath, it’s cute. all you wanted was to just feel a hand of his skim all down your body, running down your waist, your thighs . . . maybe even between your legs. “touch me, sugu. p—pretty please.”

“gotta be more specific, princess,” he whispers, his voice still deep—sonorous with such playfulness behind it. you could listen to his voice all day, you’re steadily rocking your hips against him before he watches you grab his hands. still, man spread, he snickers once you slowly move his hands further down your waist. “mhm. okay, anywhere else?”

you bite back a moan, feeling the plump crown head of his cock thrash against your sweet spots repeatedly. you’re swinging against him each time you go forward and it makes him grunt. your rhythm was simply hypnotic. time and time again, you’re so loud and you squeeze a grip on his wrists before babbling.

“touch my thighs, a-and touch here,” he remains quiet, amusingly ogling at how handsy you are. his fingers trail towards the material of the hoodie, sliding underneath it before you make him rub against your bare tummy. “right there, sugu.”

“such a naughty girl,” he hums.

brushing his thumb against your waist, another focus near the inside of the hoodie, his touch was so warm…

geto grunts, leaning back with his legs all spread. his sweats were pulled me just briefly, and you’re riding him so good that you spot his adam’s apple poking out. you lean in to kiss near his neck and he groans, feeling the thrusts against him only get sloppier. “fuck, that’s it, girl. s-shit, fuck me like that, yeah,” and his lips were so close up to your ear. you’re a whiney mess, feeling his strong hips attach to your rotating hips before your hand ends up wrapping around his neck.

it’s unintentional— but he finds it hot.

you make direct eye contact for a short concise moment before you moan from his dick french kissing near your pulsating g-spot. “k—kinky girl,” he chokes out, hooded eyes never leaving yours. and his eyes shoot up the moment you find out he’s turned on. your rocking on his lap quickens at a more rigorous pace before he speaks in a husky rasp, “nah, don’t let go now,” he fake pouts, spreading his legs just a bit further. your fingers loosen against his throat before he holds your wrist. “choke me more baby, c’mon don’t be shy. you know what you’re doing to me.”

“you’re kinkier than me, suguru,” you pant, feeling yourself coming close the more you bounce on his cock. his thighs— it rubs against your skin, it feels so smooth. a smooth clean service, skin slaps and slaps and you’re so dizzy that your head spins— your mind’s going through a whirl, and he chuckles before slowly sliding his hoodie up towards your chest.

he grunts, a thumb exposing your breasts that flung against you with each move you make. you’re frantic, wrapping one arm around him with another tightening its grip around his pretty throat. “obviously. we know this, girl,” he jeers, and there’s never a dull moment where suguru geto is sassy. and he even shoots you an eye roll, arched black brows slightly forming into a furrow.

the sassiest.

“ooh,” he purrs up all into your right into your ear, an arm dangerously snaking around your waist. “someone’s gettin’ whiney. you gonna make a mess on me, princess?”

“y— yeah,” you croon out a whimper, the curve of his cock plowing right through you. your walls continue to squeeze him tight, hugging him like a vice before you moan right into his neck. “s-shit, ‘m gonna cum, sugu.”

his head throws itself back and it’s sexy, long strands flowing effortlessly— and he smells good.

his aroma was something you could never get enough of, so rich and elegant. geto wore the same cologne and it never grew old. he breathes through his nose before bringing a sharp spank to your ass. “fuckkk me,” he’d gruffly utter. he was approaching too— he felt it rising and rising, that familiar twitch in his right leg rapidly . you moan, feeling his dick frantically pulse right inside your cunt and you release your grip on his neck. for a moment, he stares into your eyes before grabbing your chin. “kiss me, baby. give me . . a taste.”

his words were a bit slow, he was growing weary himself but didn’t wanna stop. not now—not ever.

you lean in to give him a sloppy kiss, tongues immediately collide and clash against each other. geto’s breath was warm, his hands continued to slide up the hoodie before squeezing your breasts, fondling a bit with your perky nipples as you’re just about to reach your incoming peak. “baby,” he huffs out in short pants between each kiss. with his abs clenching beneath his shirt, you anchor a hand right through his strands as you start to suck on his tongue. only for a second, he groans—gifting your ass that same spank that makes your skin roughly ricochet. “. . uh, fuck. make me cum, ride me jus’ like that,” and his voice was the same low gruff but it sounds a slightly more . . needy.

he tastes candied, syrupy…

a lingering minty flavor resides on his tongue as your saliva mixes with his—a husked grunt gets caught in his throat. once he feels his base merely have enough though, he cums.

all inside you, you end up following shortly afterward and your body ends up spasming all on him. geto’s so pretty when he finishes. hooded eyes a low, he’s gasping for air once you pull away. sheeny glossed lips that were a bit marked from your lips attached to him, he pursed them together before feeling himself trickle inside you. “s—suguruuu,” you’d mewl out, bringing your hips to a halt as his fiery tip spits out thick amounts of velvety cum. it’s so full that you feel full, he makes you quiet by pressing a thumb against your lips, holding you close to yourself.

“listen to it with me.”

all you could hear was your pants and the subtle sound of his heartbeat— as we as geto dumping his seed into your walls, your finish was just as immaculate and euphoric. it’s so carnal, a hand runs down his chest as you lean forward to sneak a kiss near his chin.

“. . damnnn,” he breathes, holding you close. his thigh twitch and after a few long minutes he ends up finishing the last few drops inside of you, a hand grabbing your waist. geto stares into your eyes, a lazy pussy drunken stare and he slyly speaks in a drowsy tone. “you’re such a pretty good girl,” and he corrects himself, taking his hoodie off of you to fully expose your gorgeous physique. “. . . messy, but pretty.”

and you slip off a moan once he drags a hand down between your legs, two fingers inserting inside of you after he pulls out—swirling the inside of your entrance of the mess that happily coats his fingers before he takes his digits back out.

“you should wear my shit more often, princess,” he coos, and you watch as he slowly slots his slender fingers into his mouth. no shame at all that he was tasting the aftermath. his tongue gyrates against it before he takes it out abruptly, a long glossy strand of spit departing as well before he drags your lip down with a thumb. “open for me ‘n say ah. if i gotta taste how nasty you were for me, then so do you, princess.”

[mimipolo]

nam-gyu hate fuck? Maybe hes pissed at you because you almost knocked him over in red light green light, and then had the audacity to click x at the vote. So when the lights go out he follows you to the bathroom?

Nam-gyu X reader

(nsfw)

I'll be honest I had no idea what I was doing at first but I swear I had an awakening half way through.

You'd pissed him all the way off now. He could put up with your teasing eyes and the way you managed to still look hot in a crappy tracksuit, even when you had the audacity to nearly knock him off the finish line in the first game . But why would you choose "o"??

His eyes glared daggers into your back as he watched you press "x" confidently as if you'd get away with it.

He'd make sure that wasn't the case.

Votings over and it's ended in a tie, everyone's tense and trying to convince the other to join their side. Amidst all this you slip away to go to the bathroom, he leaves the crowd slowly to follow suit.

You were just shaking off your wet hands when he swings open the bathroom door and casually walks in. He has his hands stuffed in his pockets and wearing an expression that just looks like he's plotting something. Why the hell is he in the woman's bathroom??

Immediately you recognised him as the guy always with Thanos, always just a step behind him ,but just as cunning. The only interaction you had was when his friend had made the odd attempt of hitting on you. But right now, he was nowhere to be seen.

"You went and chose "x" huh?"

You remain quiet, eyes darting around the bathroom as you back away from him but he grasps your arm suddenly making your heart jump.

"You're gonna ignore me now? You gotta mouth, speak."

"What's it matter to you what I chose."

You say through gritted teeth, nervous to speak up to him but also refusing to let him push you around. Your expression sours as he begins to grin wide, like he's pleased with your response and it'd justify what he's about to do.

"Vote "o" next round." He says harshly as he tugs you closer, his body close to yours. He only chuckles when you try to step away, grabbing your other arm to keep you near.

"That a no?" He's tilting his head down towards you, it's almost like he was hoping you'd go against him, you could hear his heartbeat as he eyed you over lustfully.

Unfortunately you had missed the arousal in his hate filled gaze as you spit back a "Hell no", you're being pulled into a bathroom stall before you could even think.

"How bout I convince you to choose "o" yeah? I'm pretty good." His words are smug as he has your back to the colourful stall wall, his hands already fumbling to unzip your tracksuit, kissing loudly at the skin of your neck. The whole situation had your hairs standing up on end, an alarming sense of arousal coursing through you.

A sharp bite to the curve of your shoulder has you flinching, a pained gasp escaping your lips as he looks up at you sadistically.

"I bite though, hard. But you'd probably like that, not even sayin' a thing."

"You asshole..."

You're left shocked by his lust coated words, your hands finally moving to grip his own tracksuit in an attempt to get him off but he's unfazed. Sucking and biting into your flesh as his hands reach down to rest on your hips, one sliding down the waistband of your sweats and into your pants.

You jolt violently at the intrusion, eyes widening in shock as you feel your resolve start to crumble. Your hands tightening around his clothes rather than pushing him away, craning your hips forward when cold ringed fingers press against those bundle of nerves. Shivering softly at the sensation, he just laughs at you, pulling down your tracksuit more for better access.

He didn't lie when he said he was good, each swerve of his fingers had you twitching against him, desperate for him to slip just one inside.

"You're wet from just this? Almost making me feel bad... but you've been the one teasing me this whole time."

"You're fucking crazy-" you manage to barely get out between gasps.

His tone still comes off as arrogant but you can hear him becoming breathless from just watching you crumble under his fingers. Two thick digits pushed inside you. Immediately taking him like you'd been hoping.

"Didn't even hav'ta push that much, you been fucking in this shitty place?"

The accusations make you whine softly as you squeeze around him, it's not true but something about the way he says it has you hooked. He was such an asshole, a sleeze and a junkie but you couldn't defend how you were murmuring against his chest for more.

"More? I knew you were just playing hard to get..."

What you didn't expect was for him to flip you on your back, hands roaming up your body to squeeze at the soft flesh as he presses his evident hard on against the curve of your ass.

"You'll never think of leaving after this." He hisses against the shell of your ear stripping himself down to line himself up against you. Before you could argue with him, even lie and say you'd vote "o" this time he's already inching himself inside you, a sharp jolt shooting through your senses. He's huffing and moaning when he bottoms out, not wasting a moment as he's already moving, making sure you take all of him as he pulls your hips back.

He's surprisingly slow, almost affectionately so. But his words are vulgar and degrading, his hands harshly grabbing anywhere they wished. Your arms are braced against the walls and your eyes squeezed shut with ecstasy as he softly reshapes you. It was like he was making sure you knew and remembered what he was doing to you.

You're honestly convinced he's louder than you, your voices filling the air as you take him. Eventually he gets desperate, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster and his dirty words only getting whinier "such a slut", "just keep taking it."

Your stomach drops when you hear the bathroom door open, he's quick to silence you. Placing a firm hand over your mouth as his other hand reaches between your legs again to press roughly against your sensitive bud. He's biting his own lip to keep quiet as his hips shudder and he spills everything he's got in you, painting your walls thickly with his cum. He's murmuring and panting against your shoulder about how good you took him before slipping out of you.

He snickers quietly watching you almost fold when he releases his hold on you, pulling up your pants and sweats and sitting you down on the toilet seat.

"I trust you know what to vote, I'll come remind ya if you forget." He whispers as leans down to grin dazily at you, his eyes scanning your fucked out expression. Clearly happy with his work he kisses your cheek deceptively sweetly, before leaving the stall. You hear him wash his hands and whistle softly as he walks away, the creak of the bathroom door signalling his exit.

What the hell was that about...

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Sleepwalking

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader, Jason Teague x Reader

AN: @jackles010378 This one's for you, hun! 😘

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Mainly fluff, implied sex, nakedness

HC: How Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Jason would react to you sleepwalking.

Dean Winchester

At first, Dean can't understand why you hesitate to sleep with him after, well, sleeping with him.

Did he read you wrong? Is just this something casual for you? The thought makes him swallow, jaw clenching, but if that's how you want it...he can try to be okay with that.

Seeing the hurt he's trying to bury behind his eyes, you settle down beside him in bed and stroke his cheek. You assure him that you're staying. Even though in the back of your mind, you're hoping and praying.

Please, God. Not tonight...

It happens around 3:00 in the morning.

Dean feels you stir on your side of his bed. He's a light sleeper at the best of times, so he turns to see you tossing the covers off your half-naked body and getting out of bed.

"Where're you going?" he says, playfully trying to grab your hand. But you slip right out of his hold without answering him, padding to the door and leaving the room.

Still half-asleep, but now thoroughly bewildered, Dean's brows furrow, and he gets up to follow you. You would never walk out of a room wearing just his shirt and nothing else, your bare feet slapping the floor with every step. He hopes Sam isn't up and about at this hour.

It takes him a while, but Dean finds you in the kitchen. There you seem to be trying to put together a bowl of Cheerios. The box is already on the counter. You're opening cupboards and leaving them open, your hands searching for a bowl.

"What'cha doin' sweetheart? Little midnight snack action? I can get behind that," Dean says.

You don't even seem to hear him. Dean watches you grab a mug instead of a bowl...and the orange juice instead of milk.

It all goes downhill from there.

"I did what?" you exclaim the next morning. "See! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."

You cover your face in your hands in mortification while Dean rubs your back, chuckling so hard he can't even breathe. You smack him in the stomach, but it doesn't stop his wheezing. He kisses you on the cheek to placate you.

"It's okay, baby. I didn't know coffee grounds and O.J. went so well together."

Beau Arlen

The first night you stay over at his air stream trailer, you warn him ahead of time while you sit beside him on the narrow bed.

"Just so you know, I um..." Getting out the words are difficult. You give him a wan smile in embarrassment, but he's listening intently, waiting for you to finish.

You sigh and decide to bite the bullet. "I tend to sleepwalk."

Just as you predicted, Beau's brows shoot up in surprise.

"Really?" he says, a smile starting to curve his lips.

Your lips twitch at a smile as well. "Yes, so I don't wanna hear any wisecracks. It runs in my family, unfortunately."

"Wow, a whole family of sleepwalkers, huh?" he muses, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. "Gotta say, I'd like to see that--"

You cut off his chuckling with a shove of his shoulder.

But that night, Beau is startled awake when you trip over his shoes left on the floor, beside a small pile of his clothes and yours that you two hadn't bothered to pick up.

You aren't hurt too badly -- just a bruised forehead and very confused the next morning.

But from then on, Beau takes your condition more seriously.

Every night, he makes sure his place is clean and organized so you don't trip on anything.

He puts a child lock on the door in case you try to open it while sleepwalking, and he keeps the sliding door to the bathroom open in case you need to get in there.

Most importantly, he locks his guns away in a safe inside his nightstand.

His objective is making sure you're safe and comfortable whenever you're with him.

Though he can't help teasing you a little bit (a lot) when you rearrange his entire sock and underwear drawer in your sleep, perfectly folded and color coded.

"Well, thanks very much, darlin'," he grins.

You shake your head, covering your warm, blushing face.

"Shut up."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

"What the fuck?" Ben wipes his bleary eyes, but he still can't believe what he's seeing.

He watches in bewilderment when he finds you in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Completely naked. Frying up some bacon to go with your toast, apparently.

Not that naked cooking doesn't appeal to him. In fact, the sight of you from behind -- your hair loose over your shoulders, the curve of your waist and the gentle swell of your hips, bare ass and legs, and the hint of side boob while your hands move deftly with the pan and silver utensil...

It's arousing, even erotic, making his cock twitch in his sweatpants.

And it actually fits pretty well with one of his fantasies that he's been wanting to try out with you.

But this is also more than a little fucking strange. You're usually dead to the world until at least 9:00 a.m.

"Sweetheart, what're you doing?" he asks. He approaches you from behind and rests a hand on your lower back as he peers over your shoulder, but you don't answer him.

When a large spark of grease pops in the pan, you barely even flinch when it hits your arm and burns you.

Instinctively, he knows something's wrong. He grabs the pan out of your hand and hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you away from the crackling grease. He turns off the stove and steps back with you in his arms.

"Hey, are you hearing me? What the fuck's going on here?" he asks.

Your eyes seem glazed over, until he (gently) slaps at your cheek.

"Hey."

Finally, you blink faster a few times, take a deeper breath, and glance up at him. "Hey..."

Your brows furrowing, you look around the room in confusion. Your eyes widen when you look down at your naked body. You gasp and cling to his arms. "What the hell?!"

"Were you fucking sleepwalking?" Ben asks, his lips twitching in amusement and incredulity all at once.

"Oh my God, you tell me!" you exclaim. This has never happened to you in your life! What the hell is going on?

He leads you back to the bedroom, and after putting your pajamas back on, you inspect the pill bottle on your nightstand. Ben gave it to you to help knock out the spell of insomnia you've been having.

After reading the list of side effects, you toss the bottle at your man's chest, even knowing he'll barely feel it.

"This is the last time I let you give me Ambien!"

Bonus! Jason Teague

What the hell did you take? Jason wonders, as he tries to keep you from unclipping your seatbelt.

The two of you are on a plane halfway to France on vacation.

You're a nervous flyer, but you just woke up from a dead sleep after taking that little pill an hour ago.

And you're apparently "feeling happy," in your words, your head rolling onto his shoulder with a giggle.

"Jase," you stage whisper (loudly). You raise a finger and swirl it around the air. "My face is hot. I'm hot. I'm hot for...you."

You tweak the tip of his nose.

He laughs a bit nervously, despite his genuine amusement. A mother looks their way with a raised brow. She puts a pair of headphones on her little boy and gives him an iPad to focus on. Jason shoots her an awkward smile and wave. Then he focuses back on you.

"Okay. Sweetheart, I like the enthusiasm, but I think you just need to sleep off the rest of whatever this is," he says. He grabs a blanket to cover you with.

"Hmm, okay."

Eventually you settle down and snuggle into him. He smiles in relief, soothing a hand over your hair and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He soon falls asleep himself.

When he wakes, you're no longer sitting beside him. His eyes popping open wide, he sits up and leans out of the aisle. He doesn't see you at all in the first class cabin.

Jason shoots up out of his seat and hurries down the other way, through the curtain where business and economy sit.

Sure enough, a flight attendant is following you up and down the aisle trying to get your attention, but you don't even seem to be hearing him.

"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" the attendant tries. He seems to be getting frustrated. "There's turbulence, miss. It's not safe for you to be--"

Jason hurries to you and grabs your arm just as the plane begins to tremble and shake. He knows there's something wrong if you're not freaking out right now. You should be clinging to him like a koala, not wearing a blank expression on your face as you glance up at him.

"Aw shit, you're sleepwalking," he realizes breathlessly. What the hell did you take?

He knows you told him, but now he feels guilty for not really listening as he and the flight attendant help you back to your seat.

Once you're clipped back into a seatbelt along with him, Jason sighs in relief now that he knows you're safe and sleeping more peacefully. Looks like you two are going to have an adventure before you even get to Paris.

He fishes out the little bottle from your bag and reads the label.

Xanax. Jesus Christ. One thing's for sure, Jason is throwing it out when you guys land.

You'll thank him when you wake up.

AN: 😂 I had more fun than I thought with this one! Let me know what you think, and if there are other characters you'd like to see the next time I do one of these headcanons. 😘💜

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[rafescvntyclubgf]

"𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥" - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐆𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐏𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 | 𝐒𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤

*total fic is 15k

5.8K

𝓇𝒶𝒻𝑒𝓎𝓈𝒸𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒷𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓉𝑜𝒷𝑒𝓇 - 𝓌𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝓇𝑒𝑒

𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙/𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖉𝖚𝖑𝖊

⚠️warnings contain spoilers⚠️

Mean!Rafe, Bully!Rafe, bulling, Rafe is an ass, name calling, degredation, swearing, drinking, smoking, drug usage, kissing, praise, size kink, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), rough oral, multiple orgasms, spanking, violence, fighting, ownership kink, pet names, multiple POVs, violence, gore, horror, stalking, blood mentioned, gaslighting, lovers to enemies to lovers, reader is quick to forgive, mentions of mutual masterbation, teasing, cheating, possessive Rafe, jealousy

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓬𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Sweetheart! Reader isn't from the OBX. She met Kiara (roomate) at college and quickly became friends with the Pogues. The group decided to join the reader, working at Camp Salem which she attended every summer since she was little. After junior high she became a camp counselor herself. Sweetheart!Reader is just that, a sweetheart. She's a lover-girl and quick to forgive. She's hard to read regarding her sexual experience-her sweetness is irresistible to Rafe. He fantasizes about corrupting her and stripping her of that. Sweetheart!Reader wears her heart on her sleeve, making her the perfect target for her bully, Rafe Cameron.

𝓡𝓪𝓯𝓮’𝓼 𝓑𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂: Canon-wise this Rafe is the closest to Season 1 Rafe. He is the definition of touch starved, touched but untouched, craving intimacy because it makes him feel better, even if it's just for a few moments. The only awful thing he did in his past in this AU is to be an asshole to the Pogues. He and the Kook trio are serving community service hours assigned from the university at Camp Salem after getting in trouble for something at the end of the last school year (undisclosed drinking violation). This being something they couldn't pay their way out of.

Rafe’s POV:

“You ready, baby?” I murmur as I stretch out my legs, watching as she walks into the water nice and slow. Her hands relax at her sides, skimming the brisk water. She wanders out into the lake just above her hips, diving into the deep as I take off for my morning run, watching her from afar as I always do.

She glides across the lake, moving fast. I pick up the pace as well, trying to get to my regular spot on the trail before turning around with her. I used to tell myself I was just out for a run, but that’s a lie. Telling the boys it was simply part of my morning routine, but who am I kidding? It’s all for her.

It’s the only time I get to see her without her guard up; she’s been on edge all summer ‘cause of me. I know. I pushed her away…further, if that’s even fuckin’ possible. Made her feel unsafe in her favorite place. This fuckin’ hell hole…

Every stroke she takes pulls her farther from the beach. She’s a strong swimmer, but why the fuck is she out here all alone? What if she gets tired? What if something happens? She needs me.

And I need her. Fuck, I need her so damn bad.

This is my last weekend. I’ve wasted every possible second. I gotta make this right, even if I just get to apologize. I don’t want her to hate me even though I’ve given her every right to. I’m an idiot. I always get in my own way. I’m a goddam asshole. And this summer just highlighted that tenfold. She’s amazing. She’s so good at what she does: with the kids, with her friends. She lights up every room she walks into, and here I am, snuffin’ her out at every turn.

Y/n’s beautiful. Fuck, she’s stunning. Every time I catch a glimpse of her, I feel my heart break a little more. There’s somethin’ about her here, too. Maybe it’s the lake. Maybe it’s the summer heat. But I can’t help but picture the two of us out on my boat, her sun-kissed skin and the glimmer of the open water shining on her hair. I can’t help but think about how pretty she’d look in her little bikini, lying on my chest as we unwind on the boat deck, rolling with the waves.

That could have been us.

How did I get this deep into summer without telling her I was sorry, without admitting how cruel I was? Without telling her just how much I think about her? I had all this time, and I wasted it being angry and cold, being a fucking coward.

When I leave, she’ll finally get to relax. She might lift her head for the first time all summer and actually look around, seeing someone who’s gonna treat her like a princess. There’s plenty of guys here. She might fall in love with someone… and she deserves to. She has the right to be happy. I want to be the one that makes her happy. I can’t keep watching her from a distance. What do I have to lose anyway? I’ve already made an utter ass of myself. I’m at rock bottom.

I need to tell her I’m sorry… for everything. I need to let her know how I feel.

I stand at the lake's edge, watching as she swims into shore. My heart pounds in my chest as adrenaline courses through my veins. I study her carefully, watching the little rivers of water roll down her curves. God, she kills me. I draw a deep, ragged breath as she runs her hands through her hair, pawing out the water. I can’t take my eyes off her… I don't want to. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

Damn, this morning is hittin’ harder than ever. Morning after morning, I could have made a move, choosin’ the wrong one each time. What about now? Her guard’s down, she’s relaxed. Y/n’s alone without any eyes on her that’ll question her sanity for talkin’ to me. Maybe she’ll hear me out. Fuck me. No…

I watch Kie walk through the sand toward her. Y/n smiles brightly at her friend, a genuine smile I haven’t seen in months. Kiara says something that makes y/n laugh. Carrera is gonna give me well-deserved hell if I even try to get close. I have to get her alone. I need her to know I mean it. I need her to know that I’ve thought about her for months and haven’t stopped. I’ve gotta convince her I'll be a better man if she gives me half a chance. I’ll get my shit together. I’ll be the kinda guy that deserves her. I’m gonna make this right.

𝐿𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉…

Reader’s POV:

“And just like that… fire,” Pope smiles up at you proudly. Your little crowd claps for him as he rises to his feet, giving you all a playful bow. Sarah fiddles with the speakers, pulling up a playlist as the rest of the counselors filter in toward the beach. Free Weekend is the one summer weekend where the camp counselors get to cut loose— a family weekend where all the kids head home for a few days, returning on Monday to finish the last half of the summer. You breathe deeply, looking out onto the calm, dark waters. It’s quiet, peaceful, serene. But that won’t last long. These small moments remind me why I love this place so much.

Pope crashes down on the sand next to you with a beer, passing one your way as JJ blazes up a joint on your other side. “God damn, this place gives me the creeps,” JJ rasps through a smoke-graveled grunt.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad my ass,” JJ scoffs. “You don't think we all know the stories? Shit’s spooky.”

“Yeah, it’s a little spooky I guess,” you breath as you wrap your arms around your waist, holding yourself a little tighter. Camp Salem was a pure joy during the day: bright and full of life, kids screaming and running around, birds chirping, energy buzzing. But at night, that light gets wiped out completely, the place changing entirely. A thick blanket of darkness falls on everything: the sky, impossibly dark, tall trees looming, shadows shifting all around.

Free Weekend always seemed a little more ominous. When the kids left it felt like they took the life with them. It didn’t help that the camp counselors loved to stoke the fires of fear, telling stories about what happened all those years ago when this was Camp Kildare. Free Weekend… Fourteen Counselors slaughtered at the hands of some campy-80’s-movie-esque slasher. It was bullshit. Nonetheless, those stories stuck in the back of your mind.

The lake shimmers under the moonlight, its reflection painted across the deep waters. The large fire casts embers into the sky, floating away into the distance, a red hue mixing with the stars twinkling in the sky above. The party starts to surge around you—still, no sign of Rafe. You bite at your lip nervously, trying to focus on the conversation between the pogues, but you can’t help but catch yourself looking out for him. You peer through the deep woods that line the beach, cabins set just behind, darkness, and trees swallowing up the rest of your view.

It had been a long summer with Rafe. He took out his frustration in the worst way. Who would have thought he would be so bad at managing his emotions? You laugh to yourself at the ridiculousness of that thought. He was such a dick. So, impossibly mean. I'm patient; still hanging onto our time together by a thread. But I’ve had about enough.This is his last weekend here. His probationary hours are all but complete. His worry about getting kicked out of the frat finally squared up. Even though he’s an asshole, there's this part of me that wants him to stay. What’s wrong with me?

Your stomach flutters as you hear his voice. Rafe walks down the little pathway with Kelce and Top, laughing about something. Rafe punches Thornton playfully, rough enough to make him stumble, the blonde already drunk. Kiara huffs out a disheartened breath, seeing the trio. The three shuffle through the sand, making their way to the fire.

Rafe sits down, trying to act casual, but there’s obviously something on his mind today more than the rest. He’s snuck a few more glances than usual; his stare a little more pensive than his usual glare.

The bonfire casts flickering shadows across his sharp, tight jawline. He leans closer, flexing his arm muscles unknowingly, straining his sun-soaked t-shirt. Rafe takes off his hat, running his hands through his hair, turning it backward instead, letting you see his beautiful eyes. His gaze shifts to yours, catching you staring, but this time you keep your focus on him. Rafe’s eyes narrow slightly, sizing you up but not in the way he has been— with kinder eyes.

The air between you thickens more, building from the moment you saw him watching you at the lake. For a split second, you thought he was about to break. But when Kie came over, everything changed. He walked away reluctantly, it seemed. What if he was going to apologize? Maybe I’m overthinking it.

You smile softly, hoping to ease the pressure, and like some dream state, he smiles back slightly, the corners of his perfect lips curling up; his eye flutter, the man unsure if he believes it himself.

Holy shit.

Rafe’s POV:

Is that a smile? Oh my god. I feel like I have to pinch myself. That… that’s a real smile. Her smile. Just as I hit my high I'm struck down again. My stomach twists as I watch an arm wrap around her shoulders, pulling her close, whispering in her ear. She giggles that sweet fucking giggle, rolling her stunning eyes away at what Heyward has to say. Pope? You fucking kidding me? My heart shatters. Why wouldn’t he go after her? Why wouldn’t she have people pinning after her? I knew it would fucking happen… I knew that she would find someone. But how did I not see this coming? Is this a new thing? Don’t tell me I’m watching the start of their fuckin’ relationship. I’ll lose my goddamm mind. I grit my teeth and clench my fists, feeling myself right on the brink of a breakdown, seconds away from crashing out completely.

I underestimated just how hard this would be… Seeing her with someone else. Pope Heyward... Fuck that guy. He has no business being that close to her. My blood boils at the thought of him having what I yearn for—getting my girl. My chest tightens with anxiety, making my labored breathing that much harder. She’s too smart. That smile toward me meant nothing… Topper was right all those months ago. She’s done with me. She deserves better. She found better. Fuck everything. If she hates me, fine. At least she feels something for me.

Reader’s POV:

”I’m gonna get a beer. Anyone want anything?” You ask as you rise to your feet. JJ holds up two fingers, gesturing for two beers as the rest is waves you off with a ‘thank you’ and a smile. You foot through the sand, heading toward the coolers on the fringe of the woods. Leaning over you snag three, turning around, gasping as you bump right into Rafe’s big chest.

“Three, huh?” He cracks up.

“They’re obviously not all for me.”

“Obviously,” he taunts. “Drinkin’ three beers would require you to pull that stick outta your ass, and we both know you’d never do that. Now, would you?” You suck your teeth and step around him, but he strides in your path, letting out another laugh, getting off on making you uneasy. “Ain’t it exhausting being such a goodie-two shoe? Don’t even get me started on what a prude bitch you are-”

”Enough,” you shout. Pope, JJ, and John B stand up instantly, staring in your direction; posturing—challenging Rafe to mess with you again.

“Wait… Wait a damn minute. Are you fuckin’ all three of ‘em?” He whispers cruelly, close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your neck. “You’re a fuckin’ whore. Aren’t you?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Leave me alone,” he mocks your voice, reaching out his big hand, hooking his finger around your belt loop, pulling you in. “You don't want that. You love this shit. Bet’you're soaked, princess.”

“You’re pathetic, Rafe.”

“Have fun with your boyfriends, sweetheart. I'm sure it’ll be a long night for a slut like you. You got three holes for a reason. Ain’t that right?”

“You’re a pussy, Rafe.”

“‘S’cuse me?” He snorts out a little chuckle. “What was that now?”

“You heard me. Can't say you're sorry. Can't admit you like me… You’re a fuckin’ pussy and everyone knows it.”

“M’not,” he whisper, swallowing hard, thrown off completely, trying to regain the upper-hand. “I can’t wait to leave this shit hole— then I don’t have to see your priss-ass every day.”

“Keep lying to yourself, Cameron.” You push past him, walking toward the fire as you scrunch your nose, holding back tears of frustration as the pogues look back up at you. You pass JJ his beers before cracking open one of your own, quickly downing it; plucking the joint out of Maybank’s fingers next.

“Rough night. Huh?” JJ asks, making your group laugh as he states the blatantly obvious.

”Just gotta get through tonight,” you sigh through a sticky cloud of weed smoke. Pope scoots a little closer, lessening the space between you. He looks down at you with warm eyes, giving you a soft, sweet smile. It had been a fun summer with him so far; there was no denying Pope’s boyfriend material, but there’s a piece of your heart that’s holding you back…

You look across the fire, watching as Rafe talks with his friends. He chuckles between sips of beer, seemingly unaffected by your exchange, an arrogant swagger in his body language letting you know that he still know, regardless of where the two of you stand, he has your focus. Rafe looks your way, catching you red-handed. He smirks at you, continuing to torture you without words at all.

“Hey,” Pope breathes as he rests his large hand on your thigh, guiding your eyes back to him. “Forget about him. Alright. He’s just a dick… Always been a dick.” Pope keeps his hand sat, rubbing his thumb lazily, keeping you grounded. You give him a soft smile and a nod.

You’re trying your best not to look, but when you turn your attention to Kie, her eyes are focused in Rafe’s direction. She chuckles delightedly and shakes her head, obviously amused with something. You turn your attention to Rafe, watching him watch youl, his body language quickly betraying him. He crosses his big arms over his broad chest, lips pressed into two thin lines, as his eyes cut into you like daggers.

“Looks like someone’s night took a turn,” Kiara chuckles. You laugh as well; a mixture of excitement and nerves. Your laughter and smile making the tensions between the two of you heighten even more.

“I mean… We could have fun with this.” JJ hums against the lip of his beer bottle before taking a swig.

“This is a bad idea,” Kie warns.

“Of course it is. Stupid things have good outcomes all the time... You know that, Kie. Now, who of us does he hate the most?” Everyone in your group raises their hand, causing more laughter.

”Honestly, it seems like Pope,” John B adds.

“‘Course it does,” Pope clips. “You in?” He cocks his eyebrow at you mischievously.

Why not? You nod and smile as you lean into him, resting your hand on his cheek as you brush your thumb along his bottom lip. “He’s gonna kill you,” you coo. But to Rafe and the other kooks it looks like you’re mumbling sweet nothings to Heyward. Giddy energy courses around you as the group feeds off of Rafe’s growing rage.

“Yeah - What’s new?” Pope mumbles as he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a kiss, stopping right before your lips meet, sharing breath with you. “We don’t have to kiss. It’s alright. I'm sure this is enough-” You steal Pope’s words off his lips as you press yours against his in a deep, searing kiss. You let your mouth move with Pope’s, relishing in the moment of peace, knowing this would bring nothing but drama. The pogues hoot and hollar. You pull away slowly, the two of you looking back at each other, unable to deny that the kiss was great regardless of the situation.

“Yeah, that was hot. He’s pissed,” JJ blurts, making the reality of the situation sink in fast.

Holy Shit.

JJ leans into the campfire, a broad, sinister smile painted on his lips as he prepares to tell the story of ‘84, laying on the theatrics thick. “Sit back and relax. Grab a beer. Let me tell you about what happened here.”

“That rhymed,” John B. smiles and nods, elbowing JJ, who smiles proudly.

"M’a storyteller. What can I say? Well, it was the summer of ‘84… At this here camp,” he drawls as he motions his hands around the fire, catching everyone’s eyes. “Camp Kildare… Camp Kill. It was Free Weekend, just like tonight—a warm summer even, such as this. The counselors were young, carefree, horny-“ He lets his voice get swallowed up in the cat-calls of the crowd. “No one noticed the counselors gettin’ picked off one-by-one, everyone figured they were just couples slippin’ away for some advanced cuddling in the bunks. But then, a few too many started to disappear. Ain't no way all of ‘em were bangin’ one out. I mean, the kids are gone. Right? It’s quiet and eerie. Losing thirteen people is a little hard to ignore. First was Max. He ran up to the mess hall fridge to snag a keg. The next were Joy and Casey, who slipped away for a quickie in cabin five. After that, odd shit started happening left and right.”

“People started separating from the rest, only to get slane brutally. One lone counselor remained: Peggy Dates. They found her the next day, fightin’ for her life around what little remained of her fellow counselors, all slashed to pieces. In the middle of the welcome sign, they found an axe, buried deep in the lumber, dripping with the blood of thirteen…”

“Now we all know them filthy kooks only want one thing, and one thing only: cash money. I’m ass at math, so don’t quote me on this, but twenty years ago they decided to open the camp again, giving it a new name, thinkin’ no one would notice. But it’s hard to ignore it… There’s evil here. You can feel it— hear it. See it,” he whispers just above the crackling of the fire as he points toward the inky black woods.

“The Kildare Slasher is still wandering out there, just waitin’… So if you see a man walking around the timbers in a ripped plaid shirt, wielding an axe, just run. RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!” JJ screams, making the crowd around the fire shout with terror and thrill. You lean into Pope and him into you, cuddling closer.

Rafe’s eyes drill into you from across the fire, his focus never leaving you, frustration, confusion, rage, all but boiling over as he scowls at you, wearing his possessiveness on his sleeve. Ever since everything went down, he never had to fight for your attention; he always had it, even if you weren't talking. He was never worried about someone taking you because, at the end of the day, he knew how hung up you were on him.

But tonight burned. He hated seeing someone else get your attention. He hated seeing someone else making you laugh and smile. His lip twitched with anger, fists tightening as he watched your fingers lace into Pope’s. And in that moment, you saw him physically holding himself back, every fiber of his being wanting to storm across the fire and take back what was his.

Instead, he sits there and stews some more, plotting his next move. He smiles smugly; his next plan of attack coming sooner than he hoped as he watches Zoey Peters stand up from her makeshift seat on a log. She brushes off shorts, the curves of her plump ass poking out of the bottom of her cut-offs; tits spilling out of the top of her shirt. Rafe’s tongue pokes in his cheek. You watch him, his calculated daze morphing into a come-hither stare. Zoey takes the bait effortlessly, strolling toward Rafe with a smile. He looks up at her from his seat on the cooler; the beautiful blonde slotting herself between his thighs, his hand instantly resting dangerously high on the back of her thighs.

He gives her a cocky smile, mumbling something charming that makes her giggle. Rafe grabs her hand, guiding her to sit on his lap. His eyes fall down her body, landing on her perfect tits, drifting higher ‘til they set on her full, glossed lips. Fuck, he’s an asshole. It’s so clear he’s doing the same thing I am… His eyes dance between the two of you as they chat. He’s so obvious about it; it’s maddening. He’s really trying to fuck with me like he hasn’t already been doing that ALL fucking summer. His large hand gropes her bare thigh as he leans in, whispering something in her ear, making her turn away bashfully. I can’t help but feel the sting; déjà vu hitting hard. Whatever…

“You wanna go down to the water?” You ask Pope, who looks over at you with a smile.

“I’d love that.” He grabs your hand, helping you to your feet, the two of you shuffling down the beach toward the lifeguard house. You step through the cool sand, leaving the warmth of the party to a place more private. “So?” Pope looks down at you, saying so much with a single word.

“So?” You sigh, tipping your heavy head on his shoulder, your body relaxed from the liquor and smoke, not too much, just the perfect buzz.

“How long until Cameron’s stomping over here asking ‘what the hell are you doing-”

"Where the fuck are you two goin’?" Rafe spats. Pope laughs weakly, the comedy and predictability of it all too much. Pope’s fingers twine into yours, silently letting you know that he’s not afraid. “What are you doin’ Huh?”

"Just hanging out, Cameron. What does it matter to you?” Pope challenges. “Don’t you have a girl? Where’s Zoey?”

“Oh, fuck off, Heyward. We both know why I was talkin’ to her. Aight? Now I’m gonna ask you one more fuckin’ time. What are you doin’ with my girl?”

“Your girl?” Pope laughs. “You’re joking? Are you his girl, Y/n?” You look up at Pope confusedly, shrugging like you’re unsure, just fucking with Rafe at this point. “We all know the answer to that,” Pope mocks. “You’ve been harassin’ her all year; been a fuckin’ asshole to her all summer. ‘Course you’re not-”

“You’re not gonna talk to her ever again. You understand?”

“She’s my friend,” Pope scoffs. “Of course, I’m gonna talk to her, you fuckin’ psychopath… We done?”

“Far from it,” Rafe laughs.

“You wanna be done, sweetheart? We don’t need to do this with him,” Pope looks down at you with a glint in his eye, using a pet name to stiffen the blow.

“Call her sweetheart again. Please,” Rafe pleads maniacally; an unhinged look in his eye as he stares backs at the two of you.

”You hard of hearing, sweet cheeks?” Pope smiles making Rafe lose all control.

“FUCK OFF, POPE. THIS IS BETWEEN ME AND HER!” Rafe shouts. His voice thundering in your chest, fists clenched at his sides, as he steps into Pope’s space.

“You just want her ‘cause she’s with me, man. You don’t care about her.”

”Don’t fuckin’ speak for me,” Rafe barks, the two standing head to head, preparing to fight as the kooks and pogues run down the beach toward the three of you. "YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE WHAT’S MINE, BITCH?" Pope swings, striking Rafe in the jaw, surprising you both; knuckles against flesh, making him struggle back, holding his face. Your hands clamp over your mouth in shock as the beach floods with panic. Kelce, Topper, John B, and JJ jump in as well; a barrage of big bodies going at it, blow-for-blow.

The light from the campfire in the distance is your only source of light as you and Kie do your best to pry the boys off each other. Rafe regains his footing, wiping the blood from his lips, his piercing blue eyes brimming with fury. He runs forward, tackling Pope to the ground, the two grappling in the sand. "RAFE, ENOUGH. STOP!” You shriek as he gets the upper hand completely, pounding Pope into the beach.

Kelce grabs Rafe by the back of his shirt, yanking him off before he can do any more damage—Rafe fights against his hold, barking threats at Pope as Kelce holds him back. ”STAY AWAY FROM HER, HEYWARD. STAY THE FUCK AWAY.”

You pout your lip, looking into Pope’s beautiful brown puppy dog eyes, blotting away the blood on his cheek. He sucks his teeth, eyes pinching shut in pain. "Well, that went about as well as expected,” Kie groans, giving JJ a side-eye as he glides his tongue along some paper, rolling up a joint.

“I had a great night. What are you talkin’ about?” JJ smiles, his lip split and bloody, one of his eyes swollen shut. You cup his cheek in your hand, looking back at him regretfully as you sigh.

“He’ll be gone tomorrow. Maybe we should have avoided the whole make-him-jealous thing. Don’t you think?”

“Our first mistake was listening to Maybank,” Pope whispers, making JJ scoff.

“Talkin’ shit… Damn, Pope. You’re on a roll tonight, baby. Didn't you throw the first punch too, man? Proud of you-”

”He did,” you answer for him, pressing the bandaid against his cheek. “You didn’t have to do that, Pope.”

“It was my pleasure, truly. I hate the guy. Got to say my piece. Got to get under his skin. Maybank was right. This is a great night,” he smiles. “Definitely worth a scrape or two.

“Or three…”

“Rafe deserves to hear all the shit he put you through… M’guessing you still wanna be with him?”

You shake your head ‘no,’ but the whole room knows you’re lying. “That's not true-”

“Liar, liar. Pants on fire,” JJ mutters through his exhale. “Very, very questionable taste in men but we've come to terms with it.”

“Have we?” John B laughs weakly, picking the joint off JJ’s fingers before resting it between his lips.

“I don't know... Kie was right all along. He’s a-”

“Walking red flag,” the room chants in unison.

“Mhmm… He is. He’s a mess,” you sigh.

“But…” JJ mocks you, waiting for you to continue the words you're too embarrassed to say aloud. I still want him.

“Ya know… He said that the three of us were “doing it.”

“Yo… It as in sex?” JJ blurts as he chokes on his smoke. “I am so in.” You roll your eyes and laugh, returning your attention to Pope again.

“Thank you for tonight.” He smiles at you sweetly, taking your hands in his.

“Anytime, Y/n-”

”Hey.” The five of you turn toward the noise as Zoey peers inside, searching the room before meeting your gaze. “Have you seen Paisley?” She asks worriedly.

“Uh, yeah,” Kie mumbles. “Cabin four with Trevor, what, like thirty minutes ago?”

“Oh,” Zoey giggles, putting two-and-two together. “Maybe I’ll give her a bit.”

Pope hops off the counter, wincing slightly as he adjusts his body to stand straight, his muscles aching. “Let me walk you to your cabin.” You smile and nod, taking his hand in yours.

The two of you walk down the row of cabins, the strain of the evening somehow lessened, leaving everything a little lighter. Pope pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Thank you again, Pope,” you mumble against his chest, listening to the soft pattering of his heart. “I’m sorry about all this.”

He breathes out a deep breath with you before shrugging and smiling warmly. “You’re my friend, y/n. And good news for you, I love you more than I hate him. So...”

“Love you too. You’re too good to me, Pope.”

“I know,” he grins as he rocks back on his heels, trying not to laugh. “If you need me, just holler, okay? Knowing Cameron he’s not done… Be careful with him.” Pope kisses your forehead before pulling back, looking down at you with a smile. “Have a great night.”

“You too.” You watch as Pope walks away, disappearing into the night toward his cabin. Reaching for your walkie-talkie, you pull it out of your pocket, lifting it to your lips. “Be safe,” you smile.

“I’ll be so safe,” he chuckles.

“Let me know when you get back. I don’t want you to get got by some slasher.”

”Stop, you’re scarin’ me,” he whimpers dramatically.

“Fuck!” You squeak as you're grabbed by your arm. You swing around, meeting Rafe’s gaze, slapping him across the cheek without a second thought. His face snaps to the side; hissing in pain.

“I deserve that,” he mutters before clearing his throat, returning his eyes to yours.

“I fucking hate you, Rafe,” you huff as you swerve around him, walking toward the stairs, but he grabs your arm, pulling you toward him again.

“No, you don’t,” he murmurs as he backs you into the cold wooden wall of the cabin. It’s true… it’s not just lip service; I fucking hate him. I hate the way I can’t get over him, the way he’s constantly on my mind even when he treats me like absolute dog shit. I hate that I still like him. “Leave, Rafe.��

“Will you just stop? Please… I’m trying to talk to you. I've been trying to talk to you all day.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. Why would I after everything you’ve done?” Rafe’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, towering over you, but he’s never been more powerless.

“I’m trying to make things right—”

“Make things right? Well you're shit at that, Rafe. Hurting me wasn't enough. You moved onto my friends?” You lift your hands, shoving him once, banging your fists against his chest next. “And for what, Rafe? Because you were angry? Because you wanted to prove something? You kept saying I'm yours? I never have been because of you. You didn't want me to be ‘til it was too late. Harassing me for months, then having the audacity to say ‘I belong to you’? Even when we were dating, you couldn't do that. Did you even see what you did to Pope?”

His eyes darken, jaw clenching. “I didn’t want to—”

“He never did anything to deserve that. He stood up for me and said nothing but the truth.” Rafe exhales sharply, looking at the ground as he searches for the right words. “Speak.”

“I was angry. Okay? You were trying to make me jealous. He - Fuck. He was provoking me.”

“Provoking you, Rafe? How?”

“Stop acting like you don’t know!” He shouts, his voice booming through the dim. The summer air hangs thick with tension as he steps closer, voice rising in desperation. “This isn’t some joke to me like it is to them, y/n. They think it’s funny, playing these games, dangling you in front of me to make me jealous. Kissing you, touching you like he did just to piss me off. Trying to make my life hell. I'm already there. I’m miserable!” His voice breaks with the bitterness and pain spilling out of him. “And there the pogues are, laughing at me, pushing me until I snapped. I didn't want to do that. All I wanted was to talk to you.”

“They didn’t make you do anything. You chose to snap. You decided to hurt people because you couldn’t handle your own shit, Rafe.”

“It’s impossible when I see you with other people—”

“And so you lashed out?” You ask, shaking your head in disbelief. “That’s not how you fix anything. You hurt people who care about me because you couldn’t control yourself.”

“This whole situation is pushing me and I can't fucking take it.”

“Yeah? Well, this situation, this mess… you made this on your own. Don’t you dare try to blame my friends or Pope for your misery.”

“Are you and Heyward really a thing? Really? I need to know. Alright?”

“You don't get to know. Leave me alone, Rafe.” You do your best to push him off of you, but he cages you in, looking down at you with begging eyes. “Leave. Me. Alone.” He shakes his head. ‘No,’ his jaw muscles coiled, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows his emotion.

“I can’t…” He whispers. “I can’t leave you alone, y/n. I—I came to apologize. For everything. I shouldn’t have treated you the way I did: tonight, here, this year… ever. I’m just—I’m so, so sorry, y/n.”

“That’s all you have? An apology?” You ask weakly. “We’re so far past this, Rafe. You know how much awful shit you’ve said to me just today?”

“I know. I know - god, I fucking know. I replay it over and over, y/n… I know I’ve been a jerk. Okay? I know I’ve screwed up more times than I can count. But I like you. I like you a lot. Then I fucked everything up and I didn’t know how to handle it, so I pushed you away. If I kept my distance and acted like I didn’t care, it would be easier for you and me, but it’s not. It’s killing me. I'm sorry, princess-”

“Stop.”

“No. Please just-”

“I said STOP!” You shout in frustration, loud enough to make him flinch. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Rafe. You’re leaving in the morning. It’s for the best.” Your words come out harsher than intended, making his tears slip down his cheeks. “I don’t want to do this with you anymore. The jabs to my heart, the bullying, the mixed signals—I’m fucking done, Rafe. I’m done with you. So just go. It’ll be easier if you’re gone. You're toxic and for some reason I can't get over you. So you gotta go. I want you to go. I’m sure you can’t fucking wait. Just give it a day or two. Huh? You’ll be back on campus; back to your old ways. Sleeping with some beautiful sorority girl and you’ll forget all about me and my priss ass.”

He looks at you blankly, taking in every word, falling apart in front of you. “I’m sorry,” he whispers again, like a broken record.

“I’d hope you’d be, Rafe.

His eyes soften on yours; nostrils flaring as he brushed the tear off his face. “Y’know, tomorrow when you wake up, I’ll be gone,” he whispers, voice cracking with sadness.

“I’m counting on it.”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

could u pls write a fic about a plus sized reader noticing Spencer doesnt look at her alot so one morning she wears lingerie and a see through robe and she teases him until he just takes her on the couch?

༉‧₊˚. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞��𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size!reader

— summary: listen, it wasn't that you didn't love the domestic life with spencer, but god, you just really missed being touched (and penelope has a solution).

— warnings: uhh this is almost 3k of pwp firstly, penelope being the best wingwoman to ever exist, lingerie, teasing, unprotected sex, couch sex, vaginal sex, sub!spencer reid, dom!reader, kind of switch spencer and reader at the end, riding, heavy petting, subspace if you squint, mentions of oral sex (m and f rec), the reader is lowkey a freak (and penelope instigates it), clothed sex, the reader is dressed and spencer isn't, i held myself back from including a mommy kink, but that's the best you're getting from me, a lack of foreplay (be considerate folks), consent kink, praise kink.

— wc: 2817

⋆ a/n: HEY SO i really let this get away from me in the sense of this was meant to kind of be dom!spencer but i blinked and all of a 2k was written of sub!spencer so yikes!! but i really enjoyed writing this, it's been literally forever since i've written pwp so... here ya go!! i'm trying to be more organized with uploading because i really want to clear out my drafts before starting any new projects.

masterlist | AO3

“Pen, have you ever seen those TikToks where it’s like ‘he has a whole woman in his bed yet he’s playing World of Warcraft’ or some shit like that?” You ask the phone that’s tucked under your chin.

You’re in the middle of putting up laundry, but a feeling of unrest bubbled beneath your skin.

Penelope laughs, “And let me guess, that’s how you feel right now?” 

You sigh, looking down at the shirt that refuses to turn inside out. You throw it back in the hamper with a huff before grabbing a pair of – Spencer’s – jeans.

“I just – I’m not with Spencer for just sex, you know that, but it’s been like… forever since I’ve gotten any.” You can’t even listen to yourself talk.

“We’ve been in this like… domestic bliss stage, and while I love waking up to breakfast in bed and giggly showers, I’m horny and every time he does something so normal – something that shouldn’t even be considered sexy – I have to hold myself back from jumping his bones.” 

Penelope lets out a rather unattractive chortle, but she continues. “Listen sister, while I love the Boy Genius as much as the next person, he’s kinda dense. With all those brains, he’s rather hard-headed when it comes to romance.”

“I know, I know, and those are one of the reasons why I love him! The denseness is cute, but I’m starting to think I sabotaged myself.” You look down longingly at the MIT t-shirt. Spencer was away at the office right now, so that means whatever conversation you were having with the colorful woman on the other end was completely inappropriate.

“You know what I think?” She starts. “Oh God.” You sigh fondly. “Oh, hush! Don’t even act like my ideas aren’t good! Anyway… If there’s one thing I’ve learned from being quite the seductress myself, is that at the end of the day a man is a man, and they can be reduced down to their most primal instincts.”

“What are you saying?” You inquire curiously with furrowed eyebrows. “I’m saying that you gotta work with what ya mama gave ya! Men are dumb, they see a tit or a nice ass and they lose all cognitive function. So what I’m saying is to put on some lingerie and act like a little minx! Guys love it when you tease them and act like you don’t know what you’re doing! It’s about the chase, my fellow curvaceous protege.”

“So you’re saying to… seduce him?”  

“That’s exactly what I’m saying – Oh! Good morning sir! Yes, sorry, I’ll call you back when I’ve got the answer to what you need… yes okay bye-bye!” And with that, you’re left listening to the silence. 

You laugh, shaking your head in exasperation before taking a seat on the bed.

Seduce him, huh? The notion almost seems ridiculous, but it really isn’t that far fetched. You’ve had sex with Spencer before, you know how his brain works, what gets him needy and what parts of you turn him on. Maybe it’s not such a bad idea.

You don’t really own any lingerie, because for one, the material that’s supposedly the back of your underwear gets swallowed by your ass, and two, Spencer’s never complained about your granny panties. But hey, it doesn’t hurt to look right?

Okay, seduce Spencer Reid is a go.

Taking one last scrutinizing look in the bathroom mirror, you leave quietly, walking into the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of coffee. Liquid courage as they say.

The light pink sheer robe hangs off of your ample form, the fuzz on the edge of your sleeves getting in your way and irritating you. God, if this doesn’t work, a woman by the name of Penelope Garcia is going to find herself six feet underground.

Spencer sat on the couch slipping his feet into a pair of mismatched socks – you’ve stopped trying to organize them a while ago – tucking them into his converse. He’s off today, probably having plans with the bookstore and the park before offering to make the both of you dinner. It’s endearing to say the least, but food is not something you're hungry for.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” You ask before taking a sip of your coffee. He hasn’t looked up, but you’re facing him now, your scantily clad body exposed by the thin satin of your white bra and underwear. A devil in disguise (you hope).

“Hmm, I was thinking about playing chess in the park for an hour or two before going to the bookstore. A new novel about quantum physics just came out, and even though it’ll probably be about stuff I already know, I’m always willing to look at it from a different perspec…” Spencer finally looked up, his sentence slurring a bit. “...tive.”

“Ah! That sounds exciting! I’ll text you what I want for dinner later if that’s okay? Or would you rather I go shopping with you?”

He blinks, his mouth hanging open intelligently, as though he’s still trying to process exactly what he’s seeing. “Yes. I mean no - I mean… I… what are you wearing?”

You spare a lazy look down, as though you had forgotten you even had the thing on.

“Oh this? It’s just really hot in the apartment today. So make sure you bring some sunscreen and a fan, yeah? Don’t want you getting a sunburn or having a heat stroke.”

“I - I’ve never seen that set before, is it new?” He stammers. You click your tongue as if you genuinely had to date the outfit back, when in reality the tags to the set itself sits pretty in the bathroom trash can. “I have no idea honestly, it looked comfortable though, so I just slipped it on. You don’t mind, right?”

“I… no. I don’t.”

You beam at him, “Perfect. Oh! Let me make you some coffee before you go, I know how hard it is for you to start your day without it.” 

You turn back around, and you could hear Spencer fruitlessly swallow a gasp. The back of your underwear might as well have been a piece of string, because your ass cheeks were basically eating the material. It was uncomfortable, but oh well, beauty is pain.

You smirk in victory, pulling out a medium sized thermos and pouring the rest of the liquid in it.

You didn’t hear him move, let alone walk behind you, but two large hands placed themselves respectively on your hips, the man tucking his face in the side of your neck. You shiver at the hot blow of air that escapes through his nose, and his grip on your skin turns a little tighter.

“What are you doing?” The question is mumbled, but you don’t miss it. “What does it look like? I’m making you coffee, silly.” He huffs. “No. I mean what are you doing to me?”

He presses forward, pushing his half hard cock between your cheeks. It was your turn to gasp, and you couldn’t help but put down the pot of coffee, pushing the now full thermos away to avoid any future hazards. 

You hold on to the edge of the counter, tilting your head further to the side to give the needy man more access. He takes the hint, peppering sweet, heated kisses on the sensitive skin of your throat. You shiver once more, sighing out a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You know lying is useless, especially with the way your voice sounded so breathless. “You know you’re a terrible liar.” It was a playful dig, and his palms had begun to move, pushing on your full stomach to put more of your weight on him.

“Hm, but you don’t know every single thing I have in the closet, now do you?” You remark, yelping when he nipped at your earlobe. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong and you know it.” You do. “Do I?”

“This is terrible foreplay.” He jokes and you giggle. “I’d say I’m doing a pretty good job, don’t you think?” You push your hips back and add a bit of friction onto his cock. He groans and you feel your pussy pulse.

“You always do a good job.” Spencer murmurs.

You’re turned around so you can face him, and you wish you could take a picture to savor the look on his face. He’s beet red, cheeks and ears flushed a beautiful hue that leaves a twinge of pride pooling in your stomach.

He cups your face, drawing you in for a long awaited kiss. 

You sigh into him, hands twisting at the sleeves of his cardigan to pull him closer. He lets you in exchange of pushing you against the counter until your lower back is digging uncomfortably into the marble.

“Where do you wanna go?” He finally breathes. You stare at him as if you were in a daze before processing his question with a blink. “Couch?” You ask. “Whatever you want.” He says before joining your lips together once more.

He walks the both of you backwards slowly, and he takes advantage of when your mouth parts in a moan as he flicks his tongue against the top of your lip. He tastes like toothpaste and you might be a little crazy to think that it makes him way sexier than it should.

Your eyes flutter open and you push him away with hands on his chest gently.

“Do you trust me?” You gasp.

“Of course.”

“Good.” You say with a smirk.

You make sure he’s close enough to the edge of the couch when you push him on it, quickly clambering onto his lap and settling your hands on his shoulders; his fall naturally to your waist and you grin.

“Hi.” You whisper quietly. “Hey.” He responds back just as hushed. “You can grab my ass, you know.” You tease and his eyes widen just slightly. “I…” You guide his palms to hold the meat of your ass and he grips.

“God.” It tumbles from his lips in a whimper and you fucking melt. 

“Sorry I’ve been such a tease today, Spencie.” You say sweetly with a fake pout. “I just needed you so bad and you’ve been so, so sweet to me, my sweet boy. I didn’t want to ruin it by asking you to fuck me stupid.”

“You wouldn’t have ruined it.” He corrects with a whine. You had begun to grind down on him and he gripped you tightly, helping you rut against him. “No?” You question. He shakes his head quickly, his hair bouncing along with the swings.

“No. ‘Would’ve done anything you asked.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“So, if I asked you to let me suck your dick until I’ve sucked the soul out of you, would you have let me? How about if I asked you to eat my pussy for breakfast, huh? Would you have done it?”

“Yes, yes, God yes! I want to… I wanna do all those things so badly.” He groans, all but pawing at you now. 

“I bet you do,” You coo. “I guess I haven’t been the only one pent up. But that’s okay, because I’ve got you, yeah?”

“Yeah.” 

You smile, leaning in to give him a kiss before traveling downwards to his belt and wrangling it open. You popped open the buttons of his jeans, sliding back so you can tug them down his legs. 

“Up.” You command softly and he obliges. 

You’re faced with his hardened cock bulging from under his black underwear.

“Oh… is this for me?” You know you’re being mean when you drag your fingertips over the spot where precum has begun to pool, only putting slight pressure on it just to hear that sweet sound of his breath hitching.

“Yes – it’s all for you.” Spencer whines and throws his head back against the couch. “All for me? My goodness…” You trail off as you drag his underwear down his thighs. His cock springs up and bobbles against his clothed stomach.

“Can I –” He licks his lips, “Can I take my shirt off?”

“Of course, my love.” You were just about to ask him anyway.

As he rids himself of his top you get up for a split second to take his pants and underwear off fully. As you go to undress yourself, he stops you.

“W— wait… keep it on please.” 

“Oh? You wanna be nasty and pull my panties to the side, huh? Dirty dirty boy.” You tisk, but in reality you feel like you’re about to explode. “Is that okay?” You smile at his question. “More than okay.”

You climb back on top of him, doing exactly what you said and pulling the white satin to the side before gripping his dick, lining it up to your entrance. He holds you steady looking up at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes as you sink down.

The stretch stings because of the lack of foreplay, but you can’t find it within yourself to care as the pain shoots up your lower back and is already fraying at your pleasure filled nerves. 

“So… so good. God.” Spencer chokes. 

Your lips are rolled between your teeth, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You heave out a breath when he sinks down to the hilt, and he just rubs soothing circles on your hips. The feeling helps to guide you as you loosen up, and when you do, you give him an experimental clench.

He groans of course and you smirk lazily.

“‘Gonna ride you now, ‘kay?” You murmur as you lift your hips up before slamming down. Spencer practically shouts when he re-enters you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” He’s a whimpering, cursing mess. “That feels good, baby?” You ask as you bounce. Spencer nods and fondness twists in your chest.

“You’re so tight. I think ‘m gonna pass out.” He says dramatically. You laugh, grabbing his hands and slipping them under your bra so they can cover your breasts. “Well, don’t pass out until we’ve cum, alright?”

He gives your breasts a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.” He huffs and you giggle again. The giggles die out though when you shift and his tip prods just right.

“Oh shit.” You curse but remain in the same place.

You ride him in abandon, the sound of skin meeting skin radiating out into the early morning air of the apartment. The sound is nasty and wet and it causes your head to swim. The buzz of mind numbing pleasure swims around in your gut, and you can almost grasp it.

“Spence I – I need more, can you…?” You moan out, your head tilting back. “Yeah, yeah, I got you, sweetheart.”

One hand leaves to rub furiously at your clit and your hips cant forward, sending you landing on his naked, sweat slicked chest. Your thighs burn and you rest for a moment, but Spencer doesn’t seem to match the same sentiment, because the other hand holds you by your hip in a grip that’s almost bruising. 

The fat is spilling through his fingers but he uses it as leverage as he now fucks up into you. You squeal, throwing your arms around his neck and tucking his face into yours. You mark him mindlessly, body trembling as you near your orgasm.

You can feel him twitch inside of you when he sets a pace, bringing you up and down in a way that indicates he’s nearing an end of his own.

“Together, okay?” You cry out, “‘Wanna cum together.”

“Okay, honey, okay.” 

He sets his feet on the floor and rubs harder at your sensitive bud, and the arousal that implodes inside of you is so blinding that you white out for a minute. Every one of your senses are overwhelmed, and you can hear him mewling into your ear before warmth paints your womb.

It’s silent in the apartment for a moment before you speak.

“I have to tell you a secret.” You whisper mindlessly, laying your cheek on a bony shoulder. “And what’s that?” He runs his fingers up and down your spine.

“This set is new.”

“I know honey, I saw the charge on my card.”

“What?!” You exclaim, pulling away from his body to search his hazy eyes with your wide ones.

“You forget I can see the bank statements.” Spencer says with a smile. “No, no. I – I didn’t mean to use your card.”

“You didn’t have to… I may have uh… may have slipped one into your wallet when you weren’t looking.” He admits sheepishly. You stare at a moment and then smile incredulously. “Did you… secretly sugar daddy me?”

“Oh God, please don’t call it that.” He says with a groan, leaning forward to bury his face in your chest.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever sugar daddy.” You tease, running your fingers through his sweaty locks.

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[marypaol]

Strings And Knots

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: Reader makes a bracelet for Draco, and, surprisingly to her, it lasts throughout all their years of Hogwarts.

Warnings: Mention of death, war, murder, suffocation, air pollution, destruction, emotional/physical damage, but overall fluff! (Until the end it’s kinda sad but it ends quite well- just a sad mood.)

Note: I know I did the whole Divination thing wrong since they do it for every month but that’s okay. And I really love this one it’s gotta be in top five favorites! Maybe top three!

Masterlist

Request Requirements

One: The Making

Year: First

Her fingers worked carefully on the thread, the rough texture feeling slightly scratchy against her fingertips. Her hands were red and almost dry, twisting them together before pulling the knot up, securing it as it joined the design she was creating.

She wanted it to be perfect, despite her just learning about a week ago, but each day she practiced a bit and she could tell she was slowly improving.

She grumbled when the strings tangled together and she once again separated the colors. She could use magic, her wand sitting on her bed on top of her Charms and Potions book, but she made it her personal mission not to use the wand, for she wanted it to be made by her very hands, that way the finishing product would be much more meaningful; to her and to him.

Her fingers burned and the tips turned red as she tied the finishing knot at the bottom, taking a pair of scissors afterward and snipping the axis thread, the extra string flying off the once was connected bracelet and landing on her robes. This time she did use the wand, pointing them at the strands and made them disappear with a flick of the tip.

-

“Good, you’re here, look what Potter is doing, hanging around that giant again; honestly, how could you tolerate-what are you doing?”

She was half listening, her fingers focusing on tying the bracelet she made around Draco’s wrist. He made a face she didn’t see, taking his arm to his eyes once she was finished.

“What’s this rubbish?” He snarled, eyes looking disgustingly at the thread on his wrist. The girl rolled her eyes, being used to his on-the-daily-attitude.

“It’s not rubbish,” she protested. “It’s a bracelet. A friendship bracelet to be exact.”

Draco still didn’t wipe the disturbed look off his face, looking down at the thread with uncertainty.

“Look, I have one too; just switched colors.” She said, showing her own by pulling up her robe sleeve, hoping to assure him that out of the two of them he wasn’t the only one wearing a bracelet.

He looked at hers, something in his eyes that she couldn’t read. “Well? What does it mean?” He asked, still looking at the strands on his arm.

The girl shrugged even though the meaning of them meant everything to her. “It represents friendship. Ya ever heard of it?” She asked, a teasing glint in her eyes as she looked at him.

He scowled. “Of course I’ve heard of friendship. We are friends, aren’t we?”

She smiled. “Yeah, why do you think I made it for you?”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Well I will admit I like being friends with you but I’m not sure about walking around with this on my wrist.”

The girl looked down at the bracelet she made herself, the strands not seeming so exciting and meaningful anymore, they seemed to be mocking her now, screaming at her that Draco wouldn’t want to wear some silly bracelet.

“Right…” She whispered, chest squeezing. Draco scoffed, leaning over and picking up her chin with his index finger. She looked at him, eyes uncertain and anxious.

“Doesn’t mean I won’t wear it- at least it matches my robes.” He stated, looking down at the green thread and then at the knitted badge of Slytherin on his chest, mouth twitching but she could tell it was his form of smiling. Her lips stretched wide, eyes sparkling. This time his grin broke, but it was small, nice and toothless.

Two: The Sighting

Year: Second

“Snape assigned another essay, I can’t believe it.” She complained with a light scowl in her voice, plopping her books down on the table beside the fireplace, sitting down on the emerald green couch, the surface silky beneath the skin of her hands. Draco grumbled in agreement to her protests, eyes scanning the paper of the Daily Prophet. She always thought it was interesting, him being so young and reading all those kind of grown up things about the Ministry. But it came with an upside: she could always get updates from him about what was currently going on in the Wizarding world. She leaned forward, finger tapping his knee lightly.

“Anything good today?” She asked, neck craning to meet his face behind the stack of papers, moving pictures all around the pages. He shook his head, folding the Prophet up carefully before throwing it onto the table, right next to her textbooks.

“No,” He replied. “And I bet there is, just wait till my father tells me. And that Chamber, he never tells me anything these days.”

It was her turn to agree with a complaint between the two of them.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do, right?” She tried to assure, but Draco wasn’t one for the ‘look on the bright side’ pep talk. She always knew that, but what she also knew was that it was worth a try.

“I wish there was something I could do.” Draco snarled, lips twitching irritably. She smiled lightly, getting off the couch and sitting the floor, pulling her parchment out with a quill and ink bottle.

“How ‘bout that essay, mm?” She hummed, voice smooth and he nodded, still looking like his head wasn’t with her. She watched him as he looked at of the window for a moment, the tallest one in the Common Room, the evening sun providing a warm glow to the space. His hand went to his head, lightly scratching his ear, when she then noticed the worn out thread on his wrist, green and slightly dirty, displaying its age. She smiled. “You’re wearing it.” She noted, and watched as his head snapped to her, eyes moving from the knotted strings to her face.

“Well we are friends, aren’t we?” He replied like it was a silly observation, shrugging half-heartedly but something brewed in her chest as he joined her, getting his things out for the essay they were about to write. It was something her young self wouldn’t be able to recognize, but it was similar to when her mother smiled at her in the morning, or how her father kissed her hair before leaving for work.

Her older self would know, oh yes, and that older mature young lady would call it love.

Three: The Teasing

Year: Third

“No.” Draco’s voice burst out as she hovered a very reactive ingredient over the cauldron, the potion brewing inside just the right temperature for him to add the alligator heart, dropping a few chunks inside. She grimaced in disgust.

“I was joking.” She then insisted.

“No you weren’t.” He instantly said, looking at her as a way to say “try me”.

She snorted, cutting up an herb he gave her. “I wasn’t actually gonna do it.” She tried to convince, yet he wouldn’t take her excuses, shaking his head.

“Yes you would; then we would end up like Seamus.” Draco responded and she chuckled, looking down at the herbs again so she failed to notice the soft smile on his lips.

“Got a friend, Malfoy? Who’s the lucky person?” Pansy’s voice suddenly broke out, and, the two Slytherins turning to her, saw her long skinny finger pointing at Draco’s wrist, a teasing glint on her face. Draco scowled at her, shooting her daggers with his grey eyes.

“Shut up Parkinson.” He spat, and she shut right up, cheeks flushing. “Not like you have any friends, bet you wish you did, don’t you?”

Pansy’s eyes glossed over but neither of them seemed to take care to it, yet the girl felt a small, very small I tell you, peck of empathy.

Pansy dismissed herself from the classroom right then, crying her eyes out.

The girl turned to Draco. “You didn’t have to be so harsh, ya know.” She whispered. She saw him look at her.

“Yeah I did. Surprised she didn’t say anything about yours.” He said softly, nudging her wrist that had the thread on it.

The girl scoffed quietly. “I’m a girl, it’s normal for us to have silly jewelry on.”

Draco’s pale eyebrow shot up. “‘Silly jewelry’?” He quoted. “So our friendship is silly now?”

The girl felt a pinch of regret hit her. She quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He still had an absence of a frown on his lips, but he believed the reassurance that she provided when she gave him a kind apologetic smile.

“Good.” She heard him mutter, most likely for her to not hear, but she thanked Merlin her ears picked up on it.

Four: The Admiring

Year: Forth

The Divination book was open in front of her, propped up against her bag that was lazily thrown on the table moments prior. The usual presence of Draco wasn’t met, since she was keeping herself busy while he attended Quidditch practice. The sun was still shining, though it was evening and after supper, through the green see-through curtains.

The Professor wanted them to write predictions on how their future would go, and all she came up with was that she would “experience a heart warming moment” and that “something she dearly loved would break”.

Her eyebrows were furrowed tightly, and just when she about decided to start making them up, the Common Room entrance opened, a certain platinum blonde coming into view, broomstick hung over his shoulder. His face was twisted with exhaustion, yet once his eyes met hers she saw a different expression in his eyes, relief perhaps, for she often didn’t know how to read his eyes, despite them being friends for four years.

He blooped down across from her, next to her bag so he was still in sight. His hand was now dug into his hair, eyes fluttering but he still was able to look at her. She stared longer than she should’ve, but the sight was too warming to her chest, watching his tired eyes gaze upon hers with such softness no one would ever be able to see but her.

She had her right arm on the table, flipping through the pages of the book with her other hand.

“Divination?” Draco asked, peering over at the work she had done. She nodded, and at that moment she yawn came over her.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m about to start making it up at this point.”

Draco chuckled, reaching up and lazily rubbing his eye. “Agreed; kinda stupid really.”

She nodded once again, starting to get too tired to talk. She scanned the page that was open in front of her, spotting the sentence “you will witness a break up between two strangers” and thought that was good enough. The other predictions spoke to her but this one didn’t seem to do such, for she was at that point picking random ones out to write down. She was focused on writing, so such so that she didn’t notice Draco lay his arm down, close to her hand but the skin wasn’t close enough to brush. She also didn’t notice his grey eyes moving from his wrist to hers, the matching thread being admired scanned with his eyes.

She looked up them, feeling his finger tips brush her robe sleeve, and she met his eyes.

“What are you looking at?” She asked, eyebrows furrowing only to curve even deeper than before when he quickly responded, a little too quickly.

“Nothing.” He said shortly, taking his arm back. She held a confused expression but didn’t pry on the subject.

“Can we go to bed now?” He asked abruptly, trying to change the topic of conversation. She hummed, packing up her now finished work and putting it in her bag. She stood up, about to grab the bag when Draco beat her to it, his pale hand gripping the strap.

“Thanks.” She muttered, suddenly feeling a small flush appear over her cheeks.

“For what?” He asked, confused, like he didn’t know he just did a kind deed.

She scoffed at how oblivious he was. “For carrying my bag. You don’t have to do that.”

It was his turn to scoff, lips twitching in slight annoyance. “Well we are friends, aren’t we?”

Five: The Breaking

Year: Fifth

The Hogwarts Express seemed to vibrate underneath her, the engine coming to life as it was ready to ride on. Everyone was excited for the upcoming year, happiness flooding their features and chests.

She, however, grew worried when she didn’t have the usual company of her friend, not having seeing him yet. She didn’t spot him in the platform or while she was walking along the hallways of the train, going to their usual compartment. She was thinking he went with his other friends, perhaps he wanted to catch up with them.

But she couldn’t help but feel a little hurt, since he always at least met her before each year, in the same seats on the same train in the same compartment. Why was it different this year?

She looked out the window, miraculously thinking maybe he was running along the train’s side, yelling for it to stop so he could catch up. But of course that wouldn’t happen since the boy was always on time, so he must be on the train, just not with her.

The compartment door opened abruptly, causing her head to snap in the direction of the noise. Draco stood there, in a black suit, black tie, and black shoes. He strolled over to the seat and sat across from her, leaning his hands on the table in front of him. This all happened just in time as the train started churning, wheels turning and gaining speed as it headed off to the school.

“Where have you been?” She asked, unable to hide the worry in her voice.

“I was looking for something.” He answered simply, looking a little irritated.

“For what, exactly?” She asked, getting annoyed as well, the irritation brewing in her chest as he once again left her with no answers.

“I was looking for this.” He said sharply. He had slapped something on the table for her to see, the green thread immediately recognizable between his fingers. It was the same as it has always been, dirty as it went through the years but the knots stayed true. The only thing was that the bottom was broken, the knot becoming undone.

“Can’t wear it if it’s broken, right?”

She was half listening, still gazing at the strings that were on the table. She grabbed it gently between her fingers, caressing it like a baby and analyzed the damage.

“It fell off on my way here.” He explained, kind of annoyed that it did such thing at such an inconvenient time.

“I can fix it.” She said quietly, surprised he still possessed it. “I just can’t believe you still have it.”

“What, you don’t have yours?” He asked, looking a little hurt beneath the annoyance that she’s so surprised at that occurrence.

“Of course I do,” she started, and missed his eyes going to her arm to see if it was there, and she was telling the truth. “I just didn’t think you’d-“

Draco groaned, rubbing his head with his hand and looking at the window, grey eyes reflecting the sun’s warmth. “We are friends, aren’t we? Honestly…”

She looked down at the bracelet, the knots worn down and dirty, but the meaning stood true. She didn’t know what it was, but somehow her mind went back to her Forth Year, working on her Divination homework, and writing down “something she dearly loved would break.”

She supposed her made up predictions weren’t made up after all.

Six: The Decision

Year: Sixth

“This is stupid.” Draco’s voice blurted shortly, looking down at the homework in front of him, the essay’s words seeming to combine in his mind, creating an annoying jumble of ink.

“I know, but Slughorn insisted.” She reminded, causing his silver eyes to roll in the back of his head. He quill lazily sat on his hands, twirling it mindlessly out of boredom.

She noticed his robe sleeve rolled up at the action, wrist muscles twitching and moving as his fingers worked the quill.

The bracelet made of thread was not only repaired but still sitting on his wrist as good as ever, the green shining the meaning of it. Just looking at his made the feeling of her own on her skin a lot more noticeable, heart warming at the sight.

“Do you want me to make you a new one?” She asked, and when he turned to her she gestured to the strands that were getting older by the day.

His eyebrows furrowed deeply, displaying large amounts of confusion. “New one? Certainly not.” He replied. “This one’s just fine; don’t know what you’d think that, really.”

She smiled soft but it was unsure. “You sure? Cause I was thinking about making myself a new one.”

Draco scoffed but looked a little frustrated. “Scared of a little dirt?”

“No.” She replied. Draco then nodded towards her wrist.

“Then it stays. Mine’s as old as yours.”

Seven: The Pulling

Year: Seventh

The air was musty, ash seeping the air, suffocating the lungs of beings who breathed it in. Of course no one cared at the moment; the air pollution the last thing on their minds. The living breathing representation of evil was standing in front of them, laughing like what was happening was his dream come true. Because, realistically, it was. Deaths, damage, emotional and physical, destruction, all of it was part of his dream. To end it all and face the boy who lived, and all for what. Just so he can kill the boy who he was trying to murder ever since he was a baby?

It wasn’t that the girl was paying much attention as the living evil spoke, too busy staring at the ground that inc held healthy green grass, grass that her and Draco used to pick at while they complained about classes they had that day. Or any day for that matter. Sometimes his long skinny fingers would dig into her sides, wiggling until he heard the sound of her laughter, something he may never hear again because of the cold voice calling him.

His mother. His father. The living evil.

He stepped forward, ready to leave the cruelty of his peers and the burning stares he just knew where there. His head swam with so many emotions but he didn’t have time to look them through, just focusing on walking to the other side, the other side where evil doings were being performed. The other side that he didn’t have a choice but to be on.

He was gonna go, he really was, despite the soft tug he felt on his wrist, and, looking down, saw her index finger hooked underneath the thread of his bracelet as she pulled, the knots begging him to stay along with the maker of them. He met her eyes despite the emotions crashing his rib cage, threatening to get to his heart, but he held the gaze all the same.

“Stay.” She said softly, eyes swirling, knowing all those years with him weren’t for nothing. She didn’t last all those times with him as a child or teenager just for him to walk away.

“Why.” He muttered back, voice dry as ever so much so that he felt like his throat was filled with sand and he was speaking through the tiny rocks. She answered with a small smile, something so small making him plant his feet on the ground, making him stay away from the living evil on the other side….making him have a choice.

“Well, we are friends, aren’t we?”