#You can get away with eyes not looking in the same direction.
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Imagine Slasher sees a man entering (or leaving?) Kitten's house, while he's stalking watching her. How would he react, what would he do? 👀
Thank you for all this 🖤🖤🫂
sexyback
SLASHER JOEL x f!READER | PLAYLIST | WC: 900
ENTERING! Let's do entering. And you're quite welcome. I hope this rascal makes some of you smile. Love you, Milla. 🖤🖤
WARNINGS: 18+ dark fic. Unsafe/dark sexual behavior, degradation, humiliation, slasher being slasher, cucking, dubcon/noncon but it's okay cause he ain't got no soul.
Joel watches from outside and perks up when your living room light switches off, and a dim orange light in your bedroom turns on. Yeah, let's go. He doesn’t have much of a view, so he creeps around back to the sliding door of your kitchen. And look at that, the door isn’t even locked.
This is big. An opportunity to see you whoring around. Catch you in the act. He’s not gonna blow it: unlike the other times he’s broken in, he doesn’t make a sound. He even takes off his shoes and leaves them outside.
You little sex kitten…you even left your bedroom door open. He takes a seat on your living room couch which faces away from your bedroom. He rests his elbow over the back of the sofa and angles himself so he can watch. He doesn’t see much, at first. Just the silhouette of some loser awkwardly lying on his side on your bed, presumably facing you.
Then there are kissing sounds. Gross. You must have thought the same. You don’t sound impressed when you stop and ask the poor guy, “Uh, ok. Can we just uh–”
And then you’re on top of him. Attagirl. That's the kitten Joel knows. You take off your shirt. Well, damn. You look sexy as hell from this angle.
“You’re so pretty,” the guy gushes softly. Joel rolls his eyes. That guy totally has a cuck voice. You lean forward, still with your skirt on, although it’s riding up. Your hips move, a little. He pulls your head down for a kiss. Dumbass. That clearly wasn’t doin’ it for ya before. Your faces connect, and while you’re not looking, Joel sneaks over to your room. He crosses his arms, holding a knife in one hand, and leaning against the doorframe.
You pull back from the bad kisser and he apologizes softly.
Joel has had enough. “Alright, just take your dick out man. That’s all she wants.”
The guy gasps. You turn around with a startle, but you don’t freak out. You're getting used to the break-ins.
“Joel,” you scold a little too calmly. “What the fuck?”
“Take it out,” Joel repeats to the guy.
“What are you doing?” You demand.
Joel answers, “Don’t whore around on me if ya don’t want me involved, babe.”
The guy hesitates, and Joel uncrosses his arms. With his knife still in one hand, Joel gesticulates in front of himself, starting with both hands near his crotch. “Take… your cock…” He lifts his hands and advances them forward. “Out of your pants.”
The guy is just staring at the knife in Joel’s hand.
“NOW,” Joel adds, then addresses you. “God damn, I can see what you're so bored about.”
The guy’s hands are shaking as he unzips his pants. Joel steps forward to take a look, and, well. Lol.
“You wanna go first or second?” Joel asks.
“W-What?” The guy stammers.
“Trainsgiving’s come early,” Joel explains. “Go on, get her while she’s tight.”
The man asks you, “Do you want me to-”
Joel interrupts with an exasperated sigh, then, starting in a mocking voice, “do you want me to–Shut up and do it,” Joel points at him.
Joel gets a good look at you. He knows that look on your face–mortified AND aroused. And when Joel gives you a little smirk, you seem to suppress one of your own. It’s clear in your eyes.
“Okay fine, just lie there,” Joel directs the guy. “Hold it for her.” Joel turns to you. “Go on, kitty. Don’t stop whorin’ on my account.”
You look Joel up and down, and when he palms a massive bulge in his jumpsuit, that’s enough to make you do it.
You’re more cock hungry than anyone Joel’s ever met. Too bad this guy’s not much of a meal. That’s okay. Joel’s here.
You put a condom on the guy, and Joel laughs, “ouch.”
When you sink down on the man, you’re hoping it’s a test. A test you’ll fail, provoking Joel into a rage. But no, Joel stands close by and unzips his jumpsuit, staring at where your body meets the cock.
Okay, he’s not that bad, both you and Joel think to yourselves. The guy is frozen.
“What,” you ask the guy, “you don’t want this?”
"No, I do." He looks back and forth between the two of you and asks, “Does he have to be here?”
Joel is now holding the absurd girth of his own shaft and glances down at it before looking the man in the eye. “Someone’s gotta pick up the slack,” Joel complains and adds under his breath, "Make up for what you lack."
You begin to move your hips.
“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel decides and puts an arm around you, pulling you off the guy. You pretend to fight Joel off.
The guy asks, “Do you need help?”
“She’s fine,” Joel cuts him off.
“I wasn’t done with him,” you protest convincingly.
The guy whispers,”What the fuck,” as he backs out of the room, still putting his dick in his pants.
“Why are you ruining my date,” you ask Joel.
“Shut up,” Joel pushes you forward and holds you face down on the bed. He growls in your ear. “You.. filthy.. slut,” then shoves into you brutally.
There he is, you think as you smile into the pillow and savor the incredible stretch.
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I Love You
Pieces of My Heart - Chapter 20 Stray Kids OT8 x reader, Soulmate AU
Masterlist |
Y/N went for a walk at the Han River today it was so peaceful Hannie its like 9 in the morning? when did you even have time? Y/N I woke up early ^^ the sunrise was beautiful Hannie i cant believe you willingly woke up early 0.o Y/N I want to take you there someday. Just you and me, we can go for a walk by the han river. Hannie Just us? Y/N Hmmm. My two favorite Hans, all to myself Hannie Wait, two favorites? You should only have ONE favorite Han >:( Y/N You're absolutely right baby Hannie im your favorite Han, right? Y/N …. I love you? Hannie >:( (i love you too)
-0-0-
“Jagi, are you okay? You can take off your hat if you want.”
You paused from where you had pulled up your beanie to swipe hair from your forehead, the cold soft air of the cafe AC making the sweat on your body cool rapidly. Subsequently, it was causing your hair to stick.
The two of you had just sat down at a small cafe hidden away from the crowds. It was a cafe known for being discreet, the owners having long gotten used to both trainees and idols coming there. Jeongin had grabbed the booth all the way in the back.
And yet you still found yourself nervously pulling the hoodie lower. You were facing the glass windows and the large double doors, where anyone could walk by and see you. It made you feel exposed. It wasn't the first time you had been out with one of the boys, but ever since seeing a photo of you on social media, you found yourself wanting to lay low. It was hard to do that when Jeongin, bless his confident soul, was wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and a pair of fake glasses that suited him wonderfully, but did nothing to hide his beautiful face. No hat, no hoodie, and he had even taken off his mask.
You were a ball of nerves.
“I’m okay,” You told him.
He gave you an unconvinced look, which was fair considering you were doing a terrible job at hiding your feelings.
The waitress came over then, setting down the two cups you had ordered, as well as the cake Jeongin had ordered. You ducked your head until she had left.
Jeongin let out a soft hum. “Jagi. Open.”
He held out a fork with a bit of cake on it towards you. You accepted the bite with a pout, knowing he was trying to get you to open up, but the cake was so good you couldn't stop the way your eyes widened in surprise.
The more flavors that began to explode in your mouth, the more you were convinced this had to be the best cake you had ever tried.
Jeongin gave you a knowing look. “Good, huh?”
“Holy-” You covered your mouth since it was still filled with food, tempted to nearly moan at how good it was.
Guess those cheesy romance books weren't all fantasy.
He smiled, grabbing another bite and holding it out to you. You pushed it away with your free hand, the other one still covering your mouth as you swallowed.
“No, it's your cake!” you protested, even though deep down you really wanted to accept that bite.
“It doesn't matter,” he reminded you. “Even if you eat it, I'll still taste it.”
You couldn't help but laugh at that, and Jeongin laughed along with you. The noise came out loud, echoing across the room, and from the corner of your eyes you spotted two girls sitting at a table near the entrance looking up in your direction. Immediately, you felt the same worry and shame from before rising up. You couldn't help the flash of panic when Jeongin turned around, having spotted your face and wanting to see what was wrong.
You reached out to him. “Innie! You're not wearing your mask!” You hissed at him in warning.
He turned back to you with a bewildered look. “What?”
You glanced behind him. The two girls were looking down at their phones, seemingly uninterested in whatever was going on around them. They were either really good actresses, or they didn't seem to recognize the maknae. You slumped back in your seat with a frown.
“You can't just-” You gestured wildly. “-look without your mask. What if someone recognizes you?”
“Is that what has you so worried?” He said, looking far too amused.
“It’s a valid worry.”
“But why do you keep hiding your face?”
“In case someone does recognize you,” You told him, feeling like a solid ‘duh' would fit well at the end. You decided against it though. “I don't want to cause any more problems for you guys.”
Jeongin titled his head. “More? Jagi, you've been the opposite of a problem.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” You try to explain. “Its just…”
You trailed off, realizing you were going to have to come clean about the photo you had seen. You had yet to mention it to any of the boys, and now that it had been nearly two weeks later, it felt like admitting to a secret. Jeongin leaned forward, his face squinted in that cute way of his that had him looking like a fox, but still cute nonetheless.
“What happened?”
And so you explained your nondate with Seungmin, how the two of you had stopped in the middle of the street, how you found the photo later on with little to no interactions, and the worry that there were people watching at all times. The worry that you would get caught.
The youngest member simply nodded, listening to you with no interruptions, until you were done. Then, he lifted up the fork with another bite of cake.
“Eat.”
“Innie-”
“Eat,” he stressed out, giving you a look.
You reluctantly took the bite offered with a pout, unable to deny how good the treat was. Given the look on his face, you were sure it was just as much for his satisfaction as it was for yours.
“I understand your worries, Jagi. I understand how stressful it is to think about being in the media eye, how paranoid it can make you feel.” You nodded at his words, well aware that if anyone could understand, it would definitely be him. Or any of the members. “But it’s also because I’ve been there that I know just how unnecessary that worry is.”
You frowned. “How can you say that? What happens if someone snaps a photo of us together?”
“Then it happens.” Just like that. Like it was a fact of life. You shook your head, even as Jeongin continued. “I’ve already accepted that something is going to come out eventually. Im actually expecting it.” He offered you another bite. “So is Chan-hyung, and Minho-hyung, and the other members, and the manager, and probably the CEO.”
“That doesn't exactly make me feel better,” You pointed out. He gave you a look and wiggled his hand, so you let out a sigh, taking the bite of cake.
“You can sit here and worry about when that moment is going to happen, or you can just enjoy your life and accept that it will happen eventually. I’m not saying you should go around telling everyone your dating Stray Kids, or to stop being aware of your surroundings, but maybe don’t let it eat you up inside, okay?”
You blinked at him, eyes a little watery. “When did you get so wise, Iyen-ah?”
He smiled, eyes squinting and nose scrunching. You leaned forward and, faces now inches apart, placed your hand over his.
“I love you.”
He blinked slowly, still smiling, but softer now. And then he leaned back, flipping his hand to grab your wrist.
“I love you too. Now come here.”
He tugged you towards him, but he had to actually let you go for you to make your way to the other side of the booth. You sat down next to him.
“It’s not like you to want so much skinship,” You pointed out, nudging your shoulder against his.
He shrugged. “If your so worried about being spotted, I figured it would be easier if nobody could see you.”
Your mouth slipped open in surprise, and you couldn’t help but lean against him. “Innie, that’s … thank you.”
“You're welcome. Now finish the cake.”
-0-0-
Comeback promotions started up so quickly you didn’t get much warning. It was half group dinners, then just two or three, and eventually you were getting messages telling you that they would be getting back late and that you shouldn't wait up. The boys all made efforts to check in with you throughout the day, or to exclusively talk in the group chat so you wouldn't feel left out, but suddenly having so much free time to yourself made you feel like something was missing.
Even schoolwork couldn't hide the loneliness. You still got breakfast with the boys, even if it was rushed, and the occasional half day surprise when someone's schedule was clear, but the one person who seemingly disappeared for an entire week was Chan.
A good morning text was all you got for those 7 days. The others reassured you he was fine and just busy, but Felix was quick to warn you that the leader was taking naps before performances, cluing in to his lack of sleep.
On the 8th day, or maybe it was the 9th due to how late it was, you were woken up to the clicking sound of your door unlocking. You lifted your head, only taking in the blurry figure at the door as they shuffled in, trying to be quiet, before dropping your head back down with a huff. Soft footsteps drew closer, your eyes too heavy to open, and then a hand was brushing down your cheek.
You let out a noise of confusion when the covers lifted.
“Go back to sleep, sweetheart,” Chan whispered, placing a kiss on your wrist as he settled in next to you.
You found yourself hovering somewhere near sleep and wake, mind still kind of aware but somewhat dreaming. You thought about the man next to you fondly, the effort he made to be with you even during his busy schedule.
“I love you,” you whispered, falling into a deep sleep.
Chan was gone by the time you woke up.
As you got ready, you found yourself wondering if you had actually said the words out loud, or if it had just been in your head. But then you got a message.
Chan Good morning love <3 Hope you have an amazing day PS. I love you too
-0-0-
Their busy schedules seem to clear up almost as quickly as they came. Although the boys still had plenty of activities scheduled both as a group and as individuals, group dinners were once again on the table. It only takes another week before you have all 8 of your boys together at the same time, their laughs and voices getting loud enough you were worried they would get a noise complaint. Even then, you didn't have the heart to quiet them.
It was during this time together, once they had settled in on the couches and began winding down, that you sprung your surprise on them.
“Sooo,” You drawled. “I have an announcement to make.” Jisung and Hyunjin both gave you panicked looks, and you raised your hands to wave away their worries. “I'm not breaking up with you, don't worry.”
“You couldn't get rid of us that easily,” Minho replied nonchalantly.
“I just wanted to let you guys know that I got a job offer.”
There was a chorus of congratulations and smiles from the boys, but only Chan seemed to realize there was still more to be said. Probably because he could still feel your anxiety.
“It's in New York.” The boys were uncharacteristically silent, so you continued. “It's only an offer, I still have to apply and there's no guarantee that I'll even get it. Honestly, I'm debating whether or not I even want to apply.”
“Okay,” Felix started, leaning forward on his knees. “Why are you bringing this up?”
“It just had me thinking, you know, about us. This,” You said, gesturing at the group. “And how its going to work. You know, long-term.”
“Long-term?” Changbin asked, repeating the english words with his thick accent. Chan translated, and the boys all nodded in understanding.
“Don’t you-” Jisung cut himself off, forehead pinching as he frowned. “I thought you being here was the long-term plan.”
“For now, yes. I still have a year or two until I get my degree, and I can continue to do that long distance for now. But then what? Eventually I will have to get a job, find my own place. Will we do that together? You guys obviously have Stray Kids, and it doesn't look like you plan on changing that anytime soon, so obviously you all are going to be together for a while…” You found yourself trailing off at the dejected look on Chan's face.
“Do you … not feel like you're a part of that goal?” He asked you. He gave a quick look to the other boys and switched to english. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to make decisions for our sake. You may be our soulmate, but you have every right to want to travel or move to other places, to get a job, to be … independent from us, if that’s what you want.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he lifted a hand, and you pressed your lips together. He continued in Korean. “I just want you to know that I-“ Felix cleared his throat. “-WE have never, ever, thought of excluding you from our future plans. If we end up making any decisions as a group, you are 100 percent included in that decision.”
“You’re a Stray now, whether you like it or not,” Seungmin told you, reaching out to pull your hand away from where it had been pulling on a loose thread in your sleeve.
You let out a laugh, eyes watering even as you tried to blink the tears away. “You offering me a place in the group?”
“It doesn’t matter if you’re part of the group or not. You’re a part of us,” Changbin muttered.
At the same time, Jisung perked up. “Do you know how to rap?!”
“We’re not adding her to the group,” Chan said with a smile. “I already have to deal with you guys.”
“Fine, we’ll make our own group,” Jisung continued nonchalantly, giving you a wink.
“The gremlin club?” Seungmin offered.
You couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter at that, slapping the singer next to you as you suddenly remembered something. “Wait! You never did give me back my hoodie!”
Jisung was quickly getting to his feet. “Actually, I think I have somewhere to be-“
“No, no, no! Get back here, you little shit!”
“Hyung, help!”
“Give me back my hoodie!”
-0-0-
Even with the boys’ great efforts to lift your mood, you still found yourself thinking about your future more and more. You also found yourself missing them, even when you had the opportunity to see them every day, to the point you were worried you would come off as clingy. Even though they didn’t have such busy schedules anymore, there was one particular Wednesday afternoon when the boys seemed to be hit with a wave of inspiration, rushing off to the studio to get their ideas down before it left.
You happily spent the morning with Hyunjin until he had to meet up with a friend. A quick lunch with the others was just as chaotic as you expected, and Minho only gave you a knowing look when you asked him if he would mind making 3 extra servings. In return, you didn’t mention the fact that Jisung’s bag had a little note added in.
Despite having only been to the company building a handful of times, the security downstairs didn’t even look twice at your ID before waving you in, and since you knew exactly where you were going, it was only a few minutes before you were knocking on the familiar studio door.
Three faces lit up as you poked your head into the room.
“Hey.” You walked in, seeing they weren’t in the middle of recording.
Changbin was quick to stand up and help you with the bags you were holding, peeking in and smiling as he realized you had brought food.
“Yah! Thank you so much, babe.”
“You brought food?”
Chan and Jisung both thanked you as you handed them their respective containers, and you sat down on the couch with a smile as you watched them talk about how good it looked. Changbin, instead of returning to his own seat, settled in next to you.
“It really does look good,” Changbin muttered, opening up the top of the container. “Wah!”
“Minho put in a lot of effort to make it look good.”
“He left me a note,” Jisung pointed out, smiling down at his little present.
Chan looked through his own bag. “I didn’t get a note.”
He pouted, and Jisung seemed to get even happier at the news. The boys began to eat their food, starting an easy conversation about a new show that you had started watching. When you brought up their music, Chan offered to let you hear what they had so far, and you quickly agreed. He began to get the track set up as you cleaned up the containers.
“Okay, this is an idea we’ve been working on,” He told you, and the room grew quiet as he played the track.
You bopped your head to the rhythm. The song was simple, but rhythmic. The track itself was just the instrumental, but from next to you, Changbin seemed to be muttering to himself potential lyrics. He had his phone out and everything.
“This is the best part,” Jisung said, slapping Chan’s shoulder from where the two sat next to each other.
And the song began to rise into what you could recognize as a beat drop. You smiled as the two producers suddenly headbanged together as the song went crazy, a sick beat echoing around the room as their heads continued to bop in unison. It was a really good song from what you could hear, the kind that made you want to get up and start dancing.
“Aaand that’s all we go so far,” Chan said as he paused the track, spinning around to face you. “We were just about to start working on some lyrics. You want to stick around and help?
“Can I?” You wondered.
“Of course!”
Jisung let out a clap. “Great! I have some ideas we can work on, and I think Changbin’s working on some of his own, so we can pull them together and work something out.”
Said man was still looking down at his phone. You nudged him gently. “Bin?”
Chan laughed. “Give him a moment. He tends to get too into whatever’s he’s doing.”
“Hopefully it’s better than what he came up with earlier,” Jisung said, smiling at you. “He wrote this cute little verse about how much he loves bulgogi. It was funny.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at the thought. Changbin was silent for a few more seconds, but he eventually lifted his head up nonchalantly only to freeze at the sight of everyone staring at him. “What?”
Chan and Jisung laughed, and the rapper seemed to realize he had missed something. He gave an embarrassed smile, turning to you for an explanation since the other two were still laughing.
“So, I hear you wrote some really deep lyrics about bulgogi.”
Changbin let out a groan, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He tried to say something, but the three of you were still laughing, and he shook his head. You didn’t even fight him when he wrapped his arms around you, trying to tickle you from the side. You jerked as he hit the ticklish parts of your side, laughing jumping up an octave into a scream. Changbin started to laugh along with you.
“Okay, okay!” You wiggled in his hold. “I’m sorry!”
“I get no respect from you guys,” he complained, no longer tickling you, put still keeping his arms wrapped around you.
“Oh, I’m sorry sweetie. Do you want some bulgogi?”
“Yah!”
Chan and Jisung were still laughing, having been spurred on by your comments, and Changbin pulled you into his lap to rest his chin on your shoulder. You cooed at him as he pretended to pout. When he went to lean back against the couch, he pulled you down on top of him, your body relaxing against his as you both sighed in comfort, choosing to ignore the other two boys as they finally began to calm down.
There was a moment of peace, where it was just you and your soulmates, your body humming contently. And then it all came screeching to a halt as the door opened.
You didn’t recognize the woman who walked in, only taking in the surprise that flashed across her face as she took you in for less than a second before you were slipping off your boyfriend’s lap, face suddenly feeling hot. The sudden pounding in your chest only seemed to get worse as the surprise slipped into a cold icy disgust, the older woman crossing her arms.
“Seo Changbin. You should know better,” She chastised him like she was his mother. “Being so provocative where anyone could walk in. You should save that kind of behavior for when you are alone.”
You frowned, sharing a look with Jisung. Weren’t you technically alone before she … walked in? Without knocking? To a private studio in a private building?
He returned your confusion with his own furrowed brows.
“It’s not like that, Noona,” Chan defended. “Besides, nobody really comes in here that often anyways.“
She gave him a sharp look. “Anyone in this building can walk into this room. You should have at least locked the door.”
“We weren’t doing anything-“ You tried to argue.
“While I am happy that you boys have found your soulmate, this isn’t information that many are privy too. You’ll do well to be careful even when in the company building,” She interrupted, handing Chan a few papers. “The stylists want to check your measurements tomorrow, and you need to film a promotional video on TikTok by the end of the week.”
And with one last side eye in your direction, the woman left. You didn’t even get to say goodbye before she was breezing out of the room, heels clicking across the floor.
You were the first one to break the silence. “Well, she seemed nice.”
“She’s just looking out for us,” Chan said, flipping through the papers with a sigh. “Man, they moved the filming schedule up to Friday. Who schedules filming on a Friday?”
“At least we get Monday free,” Jisung offered, looking over Chan’s shoulder.
Changbin nudged you as he moved in closer, his arm going around your shoulder to pull you in close, but you froze at his touch. He noticed your discomfort immediately, backing off enough that he could get a good look at your face. He gave you a reassuring smile.
“Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just a little embarrassing,” You admitted. “I feel like I just got scolded by my mom.”
He let out a huff. “Don’t let her get to you. Doyeon-noona is just a little stricter with us than the other staff.”
“I know. I can’t blame her for that, I … I just don’t like the idea that I have to be careful with you guys in your own studio,” You admitted. The other two seemed to pick up on your conversation, their own ramblings quieting as they turned to listen. “I know we talked about this before, and I already know how you guys feel about this, but I just … I don’t know. I wish things weren’t so complicated.”
“Like you said, you already know how I feel.” Letting his fingers intertwine with yours, Changbin pulled your hand up to place a soft kiss to the back. “But I get it. Nobody wants to feel like they can’t be themselves with the people they love.”
“People they love, huh?” As if you had sucked all the confidence right out of his body, Changbin began to splutter.
You smiled. “I love you too.”
-0-0-
You settled into a nice routine, which often included messaging the group chat to see if any of the boys were home or available every morning. This particular day, you found yourself heading up to the maknae’s dorm in search of Seungmin, who promised you he had a few hours to watch a movie with you. It wasn’t until you got there that you realized he wasn’t the only one there.
Hyunjin was in the kitchen when you arrived. You didn’t realize until you were walking down the hall and passed by the doorway, freezing your body when you caught sight of the dancer as if you had just been caught sneaking out. He also froze, a cup halfway up to his mouth, blinking at you in confusion.
“What are you doing here?”
“Gunna watch a movie with Seungmin. What are you doing here?”
He looked down at his cup. “… nothing.”
“Is that Minho’s special tea?”
“Please don’t tell him,” Hyunjin pleaded, dropping the cup to the counter with a loud clack. “He’ll kill me.”
“Fine. But only if you make me a cup.”
“Deal.”
Seungmin showed up a few minutes later when you didn’t answer his text, taking in the two of you and the guilty looks you sported.
He smirked. “Hyung’s tea? Really?”
“Don’t tell him,” You pleaded. “He’ll kill us.”
With a smile that sent shivers up your spine, the young singer reached for his phone. You let out a laugh as you lunged for him, trying to block his sight, and he playfully grabbed you with one arm, using the other to hold his phone away from your reach. Seungmin was surprisingly strong, and you found yourself unable to do anything as the photo app was pulled up.
“Hyunjin, help!”
Things quickly went to chaos after that. The two of you managed to get the phone out of Seungmin’s hands, but Hyunjin wasn’t expecting the other boy to tackle him against the counter, both of them laughing and screaming as they wrestled for the phone. You tried to grab it out of their hands yourself, but you miscalculated.
Your socks slipped against the floor, and with a yelp, you reached out to grab onto the boys for stability. Hyunjin was pulled to the ground by Seungmin, his arms flailing as he went down. You hit the side of the counter just as one of the cups of tea was flung in your direction, and you let out a shout as hot liquid hit your chest, neck, and the left side of your face.
“Shit!” You swiped your hand across your face, and the other two grew quiet as they realized what had happened.
“Fuck, are you okay?” Seungmin was the first to react, pulling you towards the sink. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” You assured him, letting him use a wet towel to wipe away the liquid from your skin. While the tea had been hot and definitely uncomfortable, it wasn’t hot enough to cause any burns. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? It didn’t burn you?” Hyunjin pressed his fingers to the skin, but immediately pulled away when he realized he was leaving marks. “It looks red.”
“It’s fine. It wasn’t hot enough for that. Really.”
“Aish. You should have been more careful,” Seungmin muttered, gently pulling at the collar of your shirt to wipe at your collarbones and shoulder.
You gaped at him. “Me?! You were the one who spilled the tea!”
“Actually, I think that was me,” Hyunjin admitted with a grimace, rubbing his hand.
You pulled at your shirt. “Ugh, I need a shower. Why is it sticky?”
Hyunjin let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and it took you a second to realize why. You slapped him on the arm. Seungmin rolled his eyes at his team member, throwing the wet towel at the dancer’s face, and gently guiding you down the hall.
“Clean up the mess!” He yelled to Hyunjin, turning to you with softer eyes. “You can use my shower.”
You didn’t take a long shower, not even washing your hair since you were just rinsing the tea off. Seungmin had offered you one of his shirts to wear while yours went through the laundry, so you stopped by the laundry room to load up some clothes (you figured you might as well wash the rest of the dirty laundry at the same time) and emerged into the living room to spot both boys now calmly sitting on the couch. The tv show you had been planning to watch was loaded up on the screen, and Seungmin looked up when you entered.
“Better?”
“Yeah. Thank you,” You told him, motioning to the shirt he had lent you.
Seungmin looked you up and down in a way that had goosebumps breaking out along your skin. He looked back down to his phone nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about it.” You pretended not to see him smile down at his phone.
“Man, now I want you to wear my clothes,” Hyunjin whined from his spot on the couch.
You rolled your eyes, sitting down in between both of them. “Boys.”
“What! You look hot wearing out clothes.” He pouted. “Just wish it was my clothes.”
“Maybe next time.”
“Next time?” Seungmin said, looking up at you with his brows raised. From the other side, Hyunjin perked his head up like a puppy who just hear the word ‘treats’ being mentioned.
You rolled you eyes. “You know what I mean.”
Even as the show started up and you settled back to get comfy, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjin’s pout from the corner of your eye. He only pouted harder when you turned towards him, making a point to look as dejected as possible, curling up on his side of the couch by himself. You let out a sigh, and he peeked at you with a hopeful look.
You sat up straight. “Wow. It’s really cold in here.”
“Do you want me to turn the AC down?” Seungmin offered, already reaching for the remote.
You slapped his shoulder gently, now exaggerating your voice at him. “I could really use a sweater!”
He snorted, settling back down once he realized what you were up to. It took Hyunjin a few seconds, but the dancer finally caught on once you both turned to him with expectant looks, his entire face lighting up like a Christmas tree.
“Oh!” He grabbed the ends of his sweater, struggling to get it off. “I got it! Wait- hold one .. Ash.”
He almost threw the thing across the room when he finally got it off, hair sticking up from the static electricity. Seungmin let out a cackle of laughter.
Hyunjin didn’t even seem bothered as he offered you his sweater. “Here.”
Now wrapped up in clothes from both boys, you were finally able to settle down to watch the show in peace. You didn’t want to admit it to them, but you actually did enjoy wearing their clothes. You found yourself pulling the ends of Hyunjin’s sweater past your hands, pressing the fabric to your nose and softly inhaling the scent that was a mix of laundry detergent and just … him. You smiled softly.
Halfway through the show, Seungmin reached out and grabbed your hands, pulling them away from your face and into his lap. Without even having to be asked, you reached out with your other hand and grabbed Hyunjin’s hand so that the three of you were connected. The soundtrack picked up, a beautiful melody that had you feeling sentimental.
“I love you guys,” You whispered.
Seungmin’s lips twitched up, and Hyunjin squeezed your hand.
“I love you more,” the dancer said, leaning his body against you.
Seungmin side eyed him. “No.”
“Eh?”
He pulled you away from the older boy, pulling you half into his lap and wrapping his arms around you, effectively blocking you from Hyunjin with his own body. Said member gaped at the change in seating.
“Yah, puppy. Give them back.”
“No.”
“You little-“
The show was practically forgotten as you were suddenly caught up in another wrestling match. Thankfully, this time, nobody got anything spilled on them, although Hyunjin did once again end up on the ground with Seungmin sitting on top of him by the time the show ended. It was only then that he shot you a bashful smile, swiping his hair out of his eyes.
“I love you more.”
“No, I-!”
You surged forward, nearly tackling the singer to the ground, but he managed to catch himself on his elbows as you pressed your lips to his. While he wasn’t the one being actively silenced, Hyunjin let out a wheeze that clued you in to exactly why he had suddenly gone quiet, and you quickly lifted yourself up to check up on him. At your questioning, he gave you a weak thumbs up, curled up in a fetal position.
“Oh, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”
He would later tell you that the kiss you gave him more than made up for the pain.
-0-0-
The first time you ever ventured your way to a new part of the company building was on a very special day. At least, it was to you. It just so happened that the first person who answered your text was Felix, letting you know he was in one of the practice rooms waiting for the other members to show up for their practice. Granted, he also let you know he was half an hour early and was just goofing around while he waited, so you figured since you wanted to see the other boys as well, you might as well wait around with him. The dancer met you out in the hall, and you couldn’t help but run towards him the moment you saw him, jumping into his arms.
Felix almost didn’t catch you.
“Whoa, you’re in a good mood,” He said, pulling you into a warm hug.
You pulled away with a fake frown. “Don’t tell me you didn’t remember.”
He froze. “Oh no. Did I forget something?”
At his genuinely distressed look, you took pity on him, letting out a giggle and cluing Felix in that the situation was not that serious.
“Its okay, it’s not that big a deal,” You assured him, biting your lip. “It’s just … it’s officially been 6 months since we’ve met.”
The blonde blinked. “Oh, really? Wait, it’s already been 6 months?!”
“Half a year! Happy anniversary,” You joked.
He let out a laugh, pulling you back in.
“Happy anniversary.” He buried his face into your shoulder. “I’m so glad Innie found you.”
“Hey! I found him,” You corrected, brushing hair behind his ear. “I found all of you.”
“Hmm, you did.”
You shivered as he pressed a soft kiss to the crook of your neck, pushing him away by his shoulders with a quick look around the hallway. Thankfully, there dind’t seem to be anyone around, You gently hit him on the chest in warning.
“Careful. I’m already in the shit list of one of your managers, I don’t need to be lectured by another.”
“It’s fine. The only people who use these rooms are artists, and half of them are also in secret relationships. They won’t care.”
“That’s not the poINT!”
The end of your sentence was cut off into a squeal as Felix spun you around with a chuckle, lifting you off your feet with his hands on your thighs, pulling you in close to him until your bodies were flush. The sudden change of balance had him stumbling forward, your body hitting the wall a little too hard, and he let out a soft curse.
“Sorry.”
You giggled. “It’s okay. What has gotten into you?”
“I love you,” He said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
“What?”
“I-“ another kiss to your lips. “Love-“ a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You.”
He blew a raspberry to your cheeks, and you let out a laugh, kicking your legs in glee. You wrapped your arms around his neck, soft hair tickling the tips of your fingers as you laced them together, head tilting to the side as you took in the man in front of you.
“God, you’re beautiful,” You sighed, giving him a smile.
His eyes lit up like you had just told him the meaning of life. “Yeah?”
You nodded your head, licking your lips. “Yeah. I love you so much.”
“Good. Because I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”
-0-0-
Dad Hey. Just checking in on you. How’s school going? I hope you’re having fun. Y/N School’s fine, same as always. Been seeing all kinds of places. Went hiking with two of my soulmates the other day It was … fun. Dad I thought you liked hiking? Y/N The hiking was fine. Waking up at 5 in the morning was not. Dad Wow. They managed to get you up before 9? That’s a miracle. You must really love them. Y/N They wanted to see the sunrise. I have to admit, it was worth it. [IMG.JPG] Dad Looks beautiful. I’m glad you’re doing okay. Y/N What about you? Everything all right back home? Dad Everything’s fine. You know how your mom is. She misses you. Y/N I miss you guys too. I gtg. Love you. Dad Love you more.
-0-0-
“Here, try this.”
You looked up, startling back at the sudden appearance of a spoon in front of your face. Minho held a hand under the spoon to prevent the substance from falling, and you smiled at his thoughtfulness. You really shouldn’t have been surprised to get a spoonful of soy sauce.
“Oh, ew. That’s gross.”
Minho giggled, shirking away from the hit you aimed at his shoulder. “That’s for drinking my tea.”
“Who snitched! Was it Seungmin? I swear to god, I’m gunna kill him.”
Minho just laughed as he made his way back to the kitchen where he was preparing actual food for dinner. Deciding to take a break from your work, you stretched in your seat and let out a groan. The dorm was uncharacteristically quiet considering that at least 5 members were home.
Minho was, as previously mentioned, cooking dinner in the kitchen. Felix and Seungmin were playing a game in the elder’s room, and you were pretty sure Hyunjin was taking a nap in Jeongin’s room. You weren’t sure if the youngest was with the gaming boys or taking a nap with Hyunjin, but you were sure he was home. 3Racha had just sent a text that they were leaving the studio.
You sneaked into the kitchen, making sure Minho wasn’t currently doing anything at the stove before you wrapped your arms around him, effectively trapping his arms to his body. He paused from where he had been chopping, letting out a soft sigh.
“Gotcha,” You murmured, pressing your forehead against his back.
It wasn’t hard for him to slip an arm out of your grasp, turning around so that he could pull you into his chest. You went along willingly, letting his warmth embrace you. The two of you stayed there for a few seconds, softly breathing against each other, the kitchen filling up with the delicious aroma of whatever was starting to boil on the stove. It was only because you didn’t want the food to burn that you let him go.
“Hey, can you play some music?” He asked you.
“Sure.”
You randomized your playlist, not even embarrassed when it was a Stray Kids song that came up first. Minho smiled to himself, giving you a side glance, but you just bopped your head along and attempted the dance to the best of your abilities, even though you were sure you looked like a wiggling worm who suddenly gained a pair of legs. You were either doing better or worse than you thought because Minho actually stopped stirring to stare at you.
Suddenly you were embarrassed.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” He told you, turning back around.
“Somehow that doesn’t give me much confidence,” You joked.
“Pass me the carrots?”
You grabbed the recently hopped carrots, leaning up against the counter as you watched him pour them into the soup. This time, when he offered you up a spoonful, you could actually trust it wasn’t going to be a prank.
It tasted amazing. You had never expected anything less.
“Good?”
“Hmm.” You licked your lips with a nod, and his eyes darted down. You couldn’t help but smile. “Hungry?”
“Watch it,” He warned you, turning the stove off with a flick of his wrist.
“Or what?”
You pouted when all you got in turn was a tap to your nose, your playlist switching to a slower ballad. The pout disappeared as Minho grabbed one of your hands, the other pressing up against your waist and swaying you side to side. When he pulled you back and began to spin the two of you around the room, you laughed.
“You are so cheesy,” You breathed, butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
“And you’re a terrible dancer.”
You weren’t sure if he kissed you as an apology, or to keep you from complaining, but you found yourself melting against him nonetheless. You didn’t usually kiss Minho often, usually getting pecks as a hello or a goodbye, but you appreciated the slow passionate way he was kissing you now. It wasn’t until the music began to change and his hands dropped yours in favor of pulling you closer by the back of your neck that you began to wonder if this was different somehow.
You eventually had to pull yourself away to breathe. “Wow.”
“If you want, I can teach you some moves,” He whispered, and you raised your brows.
“Dance moves?”
“If you want,” He said with a smirk.
He grabbed your hand when you tried to hit him on the chest, trapping your hand between the two of you. His thumb gently swiped across your knuckles, his head tilting as he took you in. You beamed up at him.
“You’re cute,” You told him, leaning up to try and kiss him again. He tried to hide his smile, looking away from you, but his red ears gave him away. “Is this your way of telling me you love me?”
He didn’t answer, just pulled you in for another kiss. It was only a soft chime echoing from your phone that pulled the two of you apart this time, Minho patting your ass.
“Go tell the kids dinner’s ready.”
You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you grabbed your phone. Your phone chimed again as you made your way down the hall, and you pulled up your messages. One text was from Jisung, letting you know that they were on their way up, but the other was from Sophie. You pulled up the chat the same time you knocked on Felix’s door.
“Dinner’s ready!” You called out to them.
Sophie. Oh my god, is this you!???
For a split second, you found yourself thinking about the photo you had seen of you and Seungmin together and wondered if she had somehow seen it.
The reality was much, much worse.
You nearly dropped your phone when you got to the images she had sent. They looked like photos taken from a security camera, which was already a shock to your system, but it was the content that had your back hitting the wall in shock.
One photo of what was clearly Felix. There was no denying that it was him. Your face was also visible in the photo, although a little grainier. The second photo, wearing the same clothing as the first photo and obviously in the same location, was a familiar scene. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pressed up against the wall, lips pressed together.
A million thoughts began to race through your head.
Sophie I can’t believe it! Why didn’t you tell me!? Girl, you are TRENDING!
There was a commotion from the entrance, and you could hear Chan calling out your name. Felix’s door opened, and he nearly ran into you. He was laughing, the youngest two yelling something at him about their game. He met your panicked eyes, and his smile immediately dropped.
Chan appeared at the end of the hall, looking as worried as you felt. “Are you okay?”
“What’s wrong?” Felix asked.
All your thoughts converged on one very simple word.
Fuck.
-0-0-
Taglist: (if you wish to be added or removed, please let me know)
@kayleefriedchicken @dessianna1 @tryingtolivelifeblog @luvvvash @purplelady85 @jc003 @thicccurls @xxeiraxx @cluelessred3 @lemonn015 @soulpheonix1618
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x you#skz x you#chan x reader#chan x you#bangchan x reader#bangchan x you#changbin x reader#changbin x you#lee minho x reader#lee minho x you#minho x reader#minho x you#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x you#han x you#han x reader#jisung x reader#jisung x you#felix x you#felix x reader#seungmin x you#seungmin x reader#in x you#in x reader#jeongin x reader#jeongin x you#stray kids fanfic#pieces of my heart
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hiiii can I request gp!sophia x fem!reader with angst prompt 1 + smut prompt 10 where basically reader just had a huge fight with her ex bf and went to sophia bc she’s her best friend (that she’s also lowkey really attracted to) and sophia tries to cheer reader up (by fucking her) but she’s really sweet and fluffy during it🫶🏼
(sorry if this doesn’t make any sense but I hope you get what I mean😭english is not my first language💜)
bestie this is so good...you made perfect sense i understood completely 🫶 thank you so much for requesting!
— ALL I WANTED ⚓️
sophia laforteza (katseye) x fem!reader
summary: angst prompt 1("i didn't know where else to go") + smut prompt 10("don't worry, i'll take care of you") from my 100 follower event OR you have a big fight with your boyfriend and break up. going to your best friend sophia, things take a turn by how she "cheers you up"
warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, g!p!sophia, soft dom!sophia, sub!reader, soft sex, lots of praise, unprotected sex, cumming inside
you stood in front of the door of your best friend's apartment. your arms were folded in on yourself, practically hugging yourself as you waited for the door to open. it was cold outside, feeling the chill breeze as you wore merely a thin sweater and leggings. you glance away for a split second, and suddenly the door opens revealing sophia, whose expression quickly goes from happy to concerned at the sight of you.
"oh my god, are you okay?" she immediately questions. "here, come inside. you're probably freezing." she grabs your arm and pulls you inside, closing the door behind you.
"sorry for showing up like this," you apologize quietly as you look down at the ground. "i didn't know where else to go," your voice cracks as you say this.
sophia can instantly tell something is wrong. the first thing being you apologizing when she would never be upset with you for randomly showing up in the middle of the night. second being the way your eyes won't meet hers. and third, the crack in your voice.
"hey, hey," she says softly, placing her hands on your shoulders. "what's wrong? what happened?" her tone is so caring and genuine like she always is with you. she hates seeing you upset to the point of near crying, but she doesn't know how to help if she doesn't know what's wrong.
"it-it's just my boyfriend and i got in a huge fight...he broke up with me and basically kicked me out so...i came here," your voice is quiet as you speak, still not being able to meet her eyes.
sophia's eyes go wide for a second at your answer. but when you finally look at her, eyes filled with tears, her breath hitches in her throat. she can't lie and say she doesn't think this is a blessing in disguise given the fact she's been pining for you for years now, but couldn't do anything with that stupid boyfriend of yours around, cause she does think it. she knows you feel the same, at least she thinks it with the lingering stares you've been giving her more recently and the way you've talked to her lately. she tries to think quickly of what's the best option to do right now, too many different thoughts running through her head as she stares back at you. hesitantly, she moves her hands from your shoulders to cup your face in her hands, seeing the way your eyes subtly widen at her action and hoping she isn't fucking this up. "how about i help cheer you up?"
you're frozen in your spot as sophia asks you the question, and you're not sure how to respond. you don't have a complete understanding of what she's meaning, your mind going in a direction you assume would never happen ever no matter how much you wanted. "what do you mean by that?" you respond quietly.
"whatever you want it to mean," sophia answers in the same voice. "i'm here for anything you need or want."
those words are enough reassurance you need to finally say what you've been wanting to say for a while now. "kiss me," you whisper.
sophia tries to fight the smile that creeps on her face at your reply, but fails miserably as she leans in and closes the gap between you and her. she can taste the remainder of your lipgloss on your lips that you applied earlier in the day, sighing softly against your lips. your arms wrap around her neck, pulling her closer to you before parting from the kiss. your face is inches away from hers, and your fingers play with her hair as you stare into her eyes.
"you're a really good kisser," you murmur. "how were you planning on cheering me up?" you ask next.
"will you let me show you?" sophia responds. "let me take care of you like you deserve." her hands move to your waist, somehow managing to pull you even closer.
"please," you say in a quiet voice.
that's all sophia needs to hear before she's pulling you to her bedroom, kissing you continuously and almost tripping when she hits the bed. she swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the bed, crawling above you and peering down at you. her hands find the hem of your swearer and she looks at you, silently asking for your permission to remove it. you nod your head, and she slowly pulls it up over your head, leaving you in your bra and leggings.
"you're so beautiful," sophia murmurs, her hands drifting up and down your torso. they stop at the waistband of your leggings, her fingers hooking around it and lightly tugging them down your legs and off along with your panties. "you have no idea how much i've wanted this," she says, her eyes wandering over your body, her cock throbbing in her boxers at the sight of you in front of her. she quickly discards her shirt and shorts, leaving her in her boxers that had a wet spot from the precum leaking from her tip. she brings a hand between your legs, fingers dragging along your folds before slowly slipping two into your wet heat.
"s-sophia," you whimper out when she slowly thrusts her fingers in and out of you.
your walls suck her fingers in greedily, making her only want you more as she pulls her fingers out after a few seconds, needing to feel you around her cock. she strips off her boxers, her cock springing out, the head red and dripping beads of precum. supporting herself up with one of her arms near your head, the other holds the base of her length, sliding up and down your dripping pussy, collecting your slick on her tip. "don't worry, i'll take care of you," she tells you softly. "are you ready?"
you nod your head, whimpering at the feeling of her rubbing against you. "yes- please i need you so bad," your voice comes out whinier than you wanted, but you can't find it in you to care seeing the way sophia's eyes darken at your words.
slowly, she pushes inside of you, watching the way your eyes roll back at the size of her filling you up. sophia curses under her breath at your walls squeezing around her tightly, stopping once she was fully in you. "you tell me when you want me to move, okay?" she presses a quick kiss on your lips.
your jaw falls open as you feel her stretching you out, a quiet whimper coming from you when she stops. you nod again at her words, taking a few shallow breaths before speaking. "y-you can move now."
inch by inch, sophia pulls out before sliding back in, the wetness of your pussy making it oh so easy for her to build a slow pace. "you're so pretty," she says, leaning down and kissing you. "god, you're so tight," she hisses against your lips.
quiet moans fall from your lips as she sets a slow pace, almost embarrassed of getting too loud, whimpering at her words as she kisses you. your arms hook around her neck, pulling her closer. parting from the kiss, you breathe heavily as you stare up at her, biting down on your lower lip to try and keep quiet.
sophia's eyes don't leave yours once, keeping eye contact while maintaining her slow pace. she didn't want to get rough with you in your current state, she was happy enough for this to be happening in general. plus, she seriously doubted your dumbass boyfriend gave a fuck about whether you actually came or not. so she was going to make sure you would. "don't be shy, princess," she pushes some of your hair out of your face. "let me hear you, my love. i wanna hear the pretty noises you make."
your face heats up at the realization that she wants to hear you, finally letting go of your lip from your teeth and freely moaning like she wanted. "sh-shit sophia," you whine her name. you're surprised at how slow and gentle the girl above you is being, as if she was worried she would hurt you when you know she would never even think of hurting you once. but, it was nice. she was right, she was making you feel the way you deserved.
hearing her name coming from you in that whiny tone has sophia's cock twitching in you, letting out quiet grunts with her gaze still on you. "how does it feel, baby?" she asks you, genuine. she needs to know she's making you feel good, she needs to hear you say it. she doesn't know how she's keeping up this slow, almost agonizing pace, but seeing your reactions each time she slowly pushes back in is enough for her to keep at it. "tell me how it feels."
"g-good," you manage out through moans. "it fe-feels so g-good- fuck- you're making m-me feel so good," you emphasize on 'you're' so that she knows that she's the only one on your mind. it was true, you couldn't even think about anything else except for the way she feels like this. you didn't even remember why you came here, and you didn't care, either.
"fuck," sophia breathes out at your response. she can tell you've long forgotten why you originally came to her place, and that mixed with you emphasizing that she's the one making you feel this good has her swelling with pride. "you're so beautiful like this. i love you so so much," she mumbles, not realizing the way her words could sound to you.
you can barely process her words, only hearing the 'i love you', and that alone has you clenching tightly around her cock, somehow getting even wetter than you already were. "i lo-love you too- o-oh my god!" your eyes roll back when you feel her tip nudge against your g-spot. "fu-fuck!" you feel tears welling in your eyes as you feel yourself getting closer to cumming.
seeing the tears in your eyes has sophia cooing at you, cupping your cheek with one of her hands and wiping the stray tear that falls. "shh, you're close, yeah?" she says quietly. she slowly speeds up her thrusts just a little bit, pushing so deep into you that she can practically see the outline of her cock bulging from your stomach making her twitch again. "i'm close too- shit!- tel-tell me where you want me," her words are starting to get interrupted by little whimpers escaping her throat as she feels herself get closer.
you nod your head quickly at her question, murmuring out, "ye-yes," through your noises that are getting louder and whinier. her next words have your head spinning to come up with a response. staring up into her eyes as she stares down at you, you know the answer you're going to give. "i-in me, please, i'm o-on the pill, please cum in me, please," you're begging for her in a way that would be embarrassing to you in any other moment, but you can't find it in you to care.
sophia's eyes go wide when you tell her what you want, but she isn't going to deny your requests in any shape or form. "don't worry, my love," she tells you before kissing you, moaning into the kiss and speeding up just a little bit more.
whining her name as she kisses you, you pull her down impossibly closer to you, your bodies practically pressed against each other. your legs wrap around her hips, bringing her even closer to you. pulling out of the kiss, you rest your forehead against hers, looking deeply into her eyes as short breaths and moans of her name leave your mouth. "f-fuck, sophia 'm so close,"
"go on," she pecks your lips quickly. "cum for me, my pretty girl. so pretty for me like this, god," she groans quietly.
after one final thrust, your eyes roll into the back of your head as you cum so hard you end up seeing white, your hands clawing at her back. not even a minute later, sophia is putting her face in your neck and letting out a long drawn-out whine as spurts of her cum fill you up to the brim. she stays there for a moment or two, breathing heavily into your neck before slowly pulling out of you. a whimper falls from your lips at the feeling, your arms still hooked around her neck and holding her close to you.
"do you...really love me in this way?" you whisper quietly.
sophia pulls her face from your neck at your hesitant question, looking down at you and nodding her head. "of course. i just didn't want to do anything while you were with him," she answers truthfully.
you nod slowly, clearly hesitating about asking the next question you were thinking of. "do you want...to be with me?"
there's a look in sophia's eyes that you can't figure out, as if she's struggling with a response. "yes," she says in a quiet voice.
"then i'm yours," you smile at her, moving your hands to cup her cheeks. "i love you."
sophia's face instantly lights up when you speak, a wide smile tugging on her lips. "i love you too, so much."
#katseye x reader#katseye scenarios#katseye imagines#sophia laforteza x reader#sophia x reader#sophia imagine#sophia scenarios#request#100 follower event#nsfw.
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Another JWCT season 2 Kenlynn analysis because I'm obsessed and I don't know if the writers are geniuses, or if I'm getting worked up over a whole lot of nothing 😂.
So, bear with me.
Kenji's arc in season 2 is clear from the first episode: he's throwing himself at danger because of the losses he's suffered. He's broken.
But in all that sadness, he has one last glimmer of hope: Bumpy's egg.
He's the one the most attached to it, even more so than Ben. After all these losses, it's the first sign of something good happening in his life. It's the contrary of death, a birth, "someone" new he can love.
During the entire season he's the most concerned with the egg, obsessed with getting it back, almost dying for it (more on that later).
Now flashfoward to episode 8: he discovers that Brooklynn is alive.
When he finds out, he's confused, hurt, mad, shook to his core (but props to the animators, for a split second...you can see that he is just... so happy).
"She's alive?"
But the hurt and feeling of betrayal is too hard for him to grasp, so he pushes all his feelings away. He knows it's not the time.
And what does he do in order to push away his feelings about Brooklynn?
He focuses on the egg, as we established the only thing in his life which isn't tarnished or hurtful. And he desperately needs it right now, now that his whole world is crumbling down even more. This shift in his priorities is shown when he says this:
"The eggs... Brooklynn took Bumpy's egg..."
At this point, Kenji's motivations are still unclear, but this line suggests that his main goal, the thing the most important to him at this moment is the same as it was at the beggining of the season, aka getting Bumpy's egg back... not getting to Brooklynn.
So when he goes berserk, driving like a madman, running as if his life depended on it to get to Brooklynn, of course we have the feeling that he wants to see her, but he's also running to achieve his objective, which has always been to take care of Bumpy's egg, and it just so happens that Brooklynn is the one obstacle to his goal.
We can see he's desperate, but it's left to interpretation as to exactly why.
Until he finally catches up to Brooklynn.
It's Brooklynn's hand he grabbs, not the case. The thing he wanted the most is in his direct reach, yet he grabbs her hand. In this moment, he completely forgets about the egg, not even sparing it a glance, not mentionning it even once.
"Brooklynn..."
All that matters to him is that the girl he loves is there, in front of him, which he thought would never happen again.
We finally have the confirmation that the reason he was so eager to run to that airport wasn't to get the egg back, but to see her. And not to get mad at her, no, just to... get her back.
And then, Brooklynn leaves.
She leaves them, but she leaves him. It's him she looks at the last, his grasp she frees herself from, him who utters her name afterward.
They're still at the center of the scene, and the scene is a direct call back to the break-up scene (also... their colors are matching, it's like not even a little subtle, which tells me there's a reason Brooklynn wore a dark blue shirt the entire season...which is SO NOT her color).
Notice how even there, it's Ben who remembers to ask Brooklynn to give them the egg.
"Wait! Bumpy's egg... it's in that case..."
It's SO FAR from being something Kenji can focus on right now, now that Brooklynn is in front of him.
We then find out that before boarding the plane, Brooklynn has given Kenji the egg. Not Ben (who was the one who asked for it), not Darius, but Kenji.
...And Kenji looks the most heart-broken he has ever looked.
He has just gotten his hands on what he thought he wanted the most, his ultimate goal this season, the very thing he threw himself into fire for, into an ocean beaten by the storm... and yet he's not even looking at it, his eyes instead watching the plane take off with Brooklynn inside.
He's gotten what he thought he wanted, but at what price?
It's not to diminish his link to Bumpy's egg. As I've shown, he risked his life countless times for it. But it just goes to show just how much Brooklynn matters to him. In that last scene, it's made clear that the thing he wanted the most, was for her to come back to them, to him. But she didn't, and gave him the egg to make up for it, as some sort of consolation price.
But it's not, and it will never be.
#I'm soooo over-analyzing but idc#don't know if the writers thought about all of this but I did and it's f*cking poetic and tragic#he loves her so much#and I love them so much#no shade to Bumpy's egg#we love Bumpy's egg#kenlynn#jwct#jwct season 2#jwcc#camp cretaceous#chaos theory#chaos theory spoiler#dreamworks#jurassic park#jurassic world#analysis#kenji kon#darius bowman#yasmina fadoula#sammy gutierrez#ben pincus#brooklynn jwct
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fuck it a look into "survival" with jin; apart of my valentine's day masterlist - dont judge ik it's only november :3
you apply to a dating-show in hopes of winning enough money so you and your sister can live comfortably. what you didn’t know that you would be competing to death for the heart of one man while those on the dark web watched.
“Let’s get something straight, ladies.”
Your eyes turn towards who is speaking. The woman is tall, her skin almond and seemingly shining beneath the golden lights of the mansion. Her hair is neatly slicked into a bun, not an out of place hair in sight. Her eyes are dark as they roam around the room at each one of the contestants. She raises a manicured hand, crimson nails going around to point at each of you - six women in total.
“This is a competition.” the woman says, lowering her hand. “You all are not friends.”
You don’t respond, opting to listen instead as the other women chatter amongst themselves. One thing for certain, you didn’t have to be told at all.
“For the past week, you along with hundreds of other women had fought diligently to be where you are standing now. This is your final challenge. Look to your left and your right, as you are now competing against your direct rivals.”
--
“Ladies.” the host says, nodding to you all. “Place your plates right here onto the table.” she says, motioning to the large, glass table behind her. There’s cards that sit about six inches from one another that have each of your names labeled onto them.
“Now, Kim Seokjin-ssi will test them all.” she proceeds to say as each of you gather back into a line.
Kim Seokjin.
Your eyes begin to widen as a man, tall and slender, begins to strut from up the staircase to where you all stood. Your eyes are fixed onto him - as are the other women. Your mouth parts a bit as he bows before all of you, a mop of dark hair bouncing.
“Hello to you all.” the man says, a familiar voice dancing through your ears. The same exact voice of earlier.
Kim Seokjin was not an older man, no. He was young; and maybe you should’ve guessed by his voice. However, he didn’t look a day over 25. His skin was clear of any blemishes and porcelain similar to a doll. His eyes are beady as he looks between the six of you. His lips, plump and pink, form a low smile.
Jin is sporting a solid, black dress shirt that he proceeds to cuff toward his elbows. His dress pants are baggy and brown, however not a wrinkle in sight. You ponder just how much his outfit is, as you were told that wealth such as him doesn’t talk, but whispers.
“Now, let’s see.” Jin says, clapping his hands as he turns away.
Jin eyes the array of food on the table, humming to himself softly.
It takes 10 minutes for Jin to try it all. Ten long minutes of you all waiting in silence as he eats, nodding his head a few times and then whispering to the host, who would either snicker or respond.
“Siobhan.” Jin speaks, his back not turning to face either of you. The host does, stepping away from Jin. “Come closer, please.”
Siobhan does, her long locks bouncing onto her shoulders as she comes face to face with Jin. He’s a beauty of a man and instantly, your heart jolts. Jealousy, sure, yet you weren’t here for true love. This wasn’t the bachelor. You were here for money and that only.
“Chan-Mi…Luisa…you two, as well.”
Your blood runs cold, your palms beginning to sweat. You’re unsure what Jin is doing - if you’re about to be eliminated or not. Your eyes glance at the other two women left, Zarish and Anjali. You suck in a breath, turning your eyes back to Jin. It would be humiliating to be sent home so early.
“Your food is…”
You swallow as the man slowly turns, his arms now behind his back. The smile on his lips he sported 10 minutes prior had disappeared.
“Lackluster.” Jin murmurs, and instantly his right arm jerks, a dagger held tight into the palm of his hand. He slices Siohban’s throat as quickly as yall all seen it, the woman gasping and clenching onto her neck.
#trivia-yandere#jin x reader#jin yandere#trivia yandere's valentine's day masterlist#survival#dark web
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Mutual Jealousy | Sebastian Sallow x OC
he's so unimpressed with evie in this one... but then again she's not so happy with seb either
Summary: Evangeline and Sebastian navigate growing attention from others, their unspoken feelings simmer dangerously beneath the surface. Evangeline accepts a date with Lysander Clearwater while Sebastian gets busy in a broom closet.
Words: 7,582
Tags: Unspoken Feelings, Post-Canon, Friends to Lovers (Implied), Friendship, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, Angst, Hogwarts, Implied Smut
The early November chill settled over Hogwarts like a thin veil, leaving the Quidditch pitch shrouded in mist. Evangeline adjusted her gloves, tightening her grip on her bat as she surveyed the field. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had been assigned the pitch for joint practice today, the field split between the two teams, with each side running their drills in tandem. The atmosphere was charged, competitive energy buzzing in the air as the two teams zoomed through plays and formations, occasionally crossing into each other’s side of the pitch.
Evangeline’s gaze swept across the field, past where Gryffindor’s Chasers were practicing a new maneuver. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a Ravenclaw player—Lysander Clearwater—flying a bit closer than usual, his attention focused on intercepting a Quaffle. She barely had a second to react when she saw the glint of an incoming Bludger streaking directly toward him, seemingly unnoticed as he focused on his target.
Without hesitation, she shot forward, swinging her bat in a wide arc and meeting the Bludger mid-flight. The impact reverberated through her arms as she sent the ball flying off in a new direction, safely away from Lysander. He glanced up, startled, his gaze meeting hers across the field, and a smile broke across his face as he registered what had happened.
“Thanks!” he called, lifting a hand in a grateful wave before returning his focus to his drill. Evangeline smirked, nodding in acknowledgment before turning her attention back to her own teammates. The exchange left her with a small thrill of satisfaction as she continued through practice, her movements sharper and more focused.
When practice finally wound down, players from both teams began to land on the pitch, dismounting from their brooms and chatting as they headed toward the changing rooms. Evangeline had just landed, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, when she heard footsteps approaching from behind.
Turning, she found herself face-to-face with Lysander. His face was flushed from the cold air, his blond hair wind-tousled and falling over his forehead in a way that highlighted his striking blue eyes. He wore an easygoing smile, the kind that seemed to draw people in without effort.
“Evangeline, right?” he asked, though his tone was warm with familiarity. “That was quite a save back there. I’d probably be seeing stars right now if you hadn’t intercepted that Bludger.”
She grinned, shrugging off the compliment. “It’s all part of the job. Can’t have our star players getting injured before the season even starts, can we?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “I appreciate it all the same. You’re a solid Beater—I could probably use a few pointers for defense myself.”
"Is that so? No comments about me being too small or looking out of place as a Beater?" she replied, a hint of challenge in her tone.
Lysander’s eyes widened, and he shook his head with an earnest smile. "Not at all! If anything, you’re proof that size doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to skill. You’ve got serious power behind those swings.”
Evangeline felt a rush of warmth at his words. She’d grown used to hearing all the comments—usually well-meaning, but often dismissive—about her stature. But Lysander seemed to see her as she was, not just as someone defying expectations.
“Thanks,” she said, a bit more softly. “Most people aren’t so… encouraging.”
He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, that’s their loss, isn’t it? Anyone can see you’re as tough as they come. I’ve actually been meaning to watch more of your practices. You make it look easy out there.”
Her grin widened at the compliment, feeling a rare, unguarded confidence settle over her. “It’s not always as easy as it looks. But if you’re ever looking for a challenge, I’d be happy to show you a few defensive moves.”
“Is that an offer?” he asked, his blue eyes bright with interest.
“Only if you’re brave enough to face a Gryffindor Beater,” she teased.
“Consider me very interested,” he replied, his gaze steady and warm.
For a moment, their eyes met, and the usual chill of the evening air felt a bit warmer. Lysander’s easy demeanor and the confidence in his tone left her feeling lighter.
But before she could respond, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye—a flash of familiar dark curls and a piercing gaze that could only belong to one person.
Sebastian was watching them from across the field, his face unreadable but his stance tense, as if every muscle in his body was wound tight. His gaze flicked from her to Lysander, a shadow of something she couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.
She turned back to Lysander, offering him a smile in spite of the strange tension coiling in her stomach. "Well, then. Let me know when you’re ready for that challenge."
“Will do, Evangeline.” He shot her one last, lingering look before heading back to join the rest of his team.
As he walked off, she stole another glance at Sebastian. She wasn’t sure why, but something about his expression left her feeling unsettled.
"Sallow," she greeted him, folding her arms with a playful smirk. "Spying on the competition, are we?"
Sebastian didn’t smile. Instead, he held her gaze, his eyes dark and intense in a way that sent an odd shiver down her spine. "Just watching out for Gryffindor’s star Beater," he replied, his tone light but edged with something she couldn’t quite place.
"I think I can take care of myself," Evangeline chuckled, "Were you here when I intercepted that bludger?"
“Yeah, I saw,” he replied, his voice tight. His gaze shifted in the direction Lysander had gone, a flicker of something like irritation crossing his face. "Didn’t think you’d be sharing Beater tips with the competition, though.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “He was just thanking me for stopping him from getting hit. I’d say that’s just basic Quidditch etiquette, wouldn’t you?”
Sebastian shrugged, crossing his arms. "Sure."
Evangeline raised an eyebrow at Sebastian’s short reply, feeling an odd mixture of curiosity and amusement at his strange behavior. He was usually the first to jump in with teasing or witty remarks, but today there was something off, a hint of something guarded in his tone. She shook it off, figuring he was just having an off day, and instead gave him a small nudge.
“Anyway, enough about me playing nice with the Ravenclaws,” she said with a grin. “Are you ready to grab something to eat? I’m absolutely starving.”
That did the trick—his expression softened immediately, and the hint of tension in his stance melted as a mischievous glint returned to his eyes. “Always ready to eat,” he replied, offering her a lopsided smile. “Besides, I think you owe me for keeping me waiting out here in the cold.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes, playfully nudging him again as they turned and began walking back toward the castle. The chill in the air had settled deep into her muscles, and she relished the thought of the warm Great Hall and the promise of a hearty meal.
As they made their through the castle, the chatter of students filled the corridors, and they fell into an easy rhythm, trading jabs and comments about practice, the lingering shadows of Sebastian's odd behaviour seemingly forgotten—at least for the moment.
But as they took their seats in the bustling Great Hall, Sebastian’s gaze drifted across the room, and she noticed his eyes linger on a group of Hufflepuff girls who seemed to have been watching him since they walked in. One of them smiled and whispered to her friend, who laughed as they both looked in Sebastian’s direction.
Evangeline raised an eyebrow, feeling a strange twist in her chest. She forced herself to focus on her plate, telling herself it didn’t matter. Sebastian was just a friend, and he was free to entertain any attention he wanted.
At least, that's what she kept telling herself.
But no matter how many times she told herself that, the twist in her chest didn’t ease, so she distracted herself by spooning mashed potatoes onto her plate with more force than necessary. Next to her, Sebastian raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering across his face as he noticed her rather aggressive serving.
“Blimey, Evie,” he teased, nudging her. “Those potatoes have done nothing to deserve your wrath.”
She forced a laugh, shrugging. “Just building up my strength for Gryffindor’s next match. You wouldn’t understand, Slytherin.”
He laughed, though he seemed only half-invested, his gaze flicking back to the other table. She gritted her teeth, unable to keep the bite of irritation from her tone.
“See something interesting over there?” she asked, feigning nonchalance as she took a sip of pumpkin juice.
Sebastian gave her an innocent look, though his eyes held a glimmer of mischief. “Just… observing. You know, studying the social dynamics of our dear classmates.”
Evangeline tried to brush off his nonchalant answer, but the glint of mischief in his eyes was unmistakable. Since the start of term, it seemed like Sebastian had become something of a sensation among the female students. Sure, he’d always been popular—Sebastian was the type of person who could charm his way out of nearly any situation, his effortless confidence and easy smile making him the center of attention wherever he went. But this year, it had escalated. It was as if half the girls at Hogwarts had woken up and suddenly realized just how… intriguing Sebastian Sallow really was.
She’d had more than a few girls approach her in recent weeks, questions tinged with curiosity and, sometimes, just a hint of jealousy. They’d ask her about him, insisting that, as his best friend, she surely knew him better than anyone. And she supposed they were right. But every time a girl approached her with a subtle—or, more often, blatant—query about his “type” or his “favourite place to go in Hogsmeade,” Evangeline had to fight back the urge to roll her eyes. She couldn’t really blame them, though. Sebastian was… well, undeniably attractive.
There was something in the way he carried himself, that unshakeable confidence tempered with a mischievous glint that made him seem like he was always two steps ahead of everyone else. His dark curls had grown slightly longer, often tousled in that way that made him look like he’d just stepped off his broom. His warm brown eyes had a way of lighting up whenever he was scheming or teasing someone, and that boyish grin of his—crooked and a little too smug—seemed to captivate anyone who dared to meet it.
But it wasn’t just his looks. Sebastian had a magnetic energy that made people feel drawn to him, like they were in on some secret joke when they were with him. He was sharp-witted, quick with a comeback, and fiercely loyal to the people he cared about. And if his growing collection of admirers had any clue just how protective and caring he could be, Evangeline figured the line of hopefuls would double in length.
"Evangeline?"
“Evangeline?”
She stiffened, her fork pausing mid-air as his voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She met his deep brown gaze, momentarily caught off guard by the intensity of it. She’d seen his face a thousand times, knew the lines and angles of it like the back of her hand. But somehow, he always seemed to catch her by surprise. His skin was permanently tanned from long hours in the sun, with a natural flush that highlighted his cheekbones, and faint freckles dusted across his nose that made him look just a bit softer. But his eyes, deep and unwavering, held a warmth that seemed to pierce through her.
Her heart did a small, traitorous skip, and she quickly looked down, clearing her throat as she tried to steady herself. “Sorry—what did you say?”
Sebastian’s brows lifted, his lips curving into that familiar, crooked smile. “Lost in thought, were we?” he teased, leaning forward with a glint of amusement in his eyes.
“Just thinking about our next match,” she said, keeping her tone light as she pushed her peas around. “Gryffindor’s got to stay sharp if we’re going to crush Slytherin.”
He chuckled, his gaze still fixed on her in that slightly unsettling, knowing way. “Right. Definitely looked like some intense Quidditch strategizing going on there.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her heart raced under his scrutiny. “Well, someone’s got to keep focused around here. Meanwhile, you’re too busy being the Great Hall’s new celebrity.”
He leaned back, raising an eyebrow as if amused by the accusation. “Can I help it if people finally appreciate my charm and wit?”
Evangeline snorted, unable to resist the smirk that crept onto her face. “Appreciate it? You’re practically fending off fans with a broomstick these days. You could probably sell autographs.”
Sebastian laughed, shrugging, though a flicker of something crossed his expression—just a hint of discomfort, quickly replaced with his usual confidence. “Maybe I should. Could make a few galleons on the side. But,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping a little, “I’d never charge you, Evie.”
She waved him off with a scoff, he voice flat. “Lucky me. I’ll treasure it.”
But even as they continued their playful banter, she couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that had settled in her chest, nor could she ignore the way her thoughts kept circling back to the attention he was getting, the attention that had become more noticeable with every passing week. And the worst part was, she couldn't even be upset about it, because she had no right to be. After all, Sebastian was just her friend—her best friend, at that—and he was free to flirt, charm, and bask in attention however he wanted. She should be happy for him, really. He’d always enjoyed a bit of spotlight, and if the girls at Hogwarts had finally realized what she’d known all along—that he was clever and magnetic and far too charming for his own good—then that was fine.
Or at least, it should’ve been.
"...are you going to actually eat anything?" Sebastian's voice was softer now, his gaze fixed on her with a mix of concern and curiosity.
Evangeline blinked, realizing she’d been absentmindedly pushing her food around her plate, barely touching it.
“Yeah, of course,” she replied, forcing a quick smile as she speared a potato and took a hasty bite, hoping it would mask the unease brewing beneath the surface. But his gaze didn’t waver; he was watching her closely, like he could see right through the flimsy shield of her smile.
“Evie…” He leaned in, lowering his voice, a flicker of worry in his brown eyes. "You have been eating, haven't you? You know, since we... talked about..."
Evangeline felt her stomach twist, caught off guard by the concern in his eyes. The reminder of their conversation a couple months ago—the one where he'd confronted her about that damned muffin she picked to pieces instead of eating—felt like a weight pressing down on her chest. She looked away, busying herself with cutting a piece of roast, though her appetite had vanished entirely.
“Yeah, I’ve been eating,” she said lightly, trying to keep her tone dismissive. “Just... maybe not as much as you.”
He let out a small huff of laughter, though it sounded forced, his eyes never leaving her. “Alright. But if something's going on, you can talk to me, you know.”
She met his gaze again, feeling a pang of guilt at the worry etched in his face. Part of her wanted to brush it off with another joke, but the sincerity in his expression made it hard to do so. There were no teasing smirks now, no crooked grins. Just Sebastian—her Sebastian—looking at her with that unwavering loyalty, his eyes full of something that made her heart ache.
"Seriously," she assured him, giving his hand a gentle pat, her fingers lingering on the familiar warmth of his skin, roughened slightly from Quidditch practice and dueling spells.
“I’m fine, Sebastian. Promise,” she added, her voice softening as she tried to ease the worry in his eyes.
He searched her face for a moment longer, and she could see the conflict there—half of him wanting to believe her, the other half reluctant to let it go.
Finally, he nodded, though the worry didn’t fully fade from his expression. He held her gaze a beat longer before shifting his tone, an almost playful glint sneaking back into his eyes.
“So… Clearwater, then?” he asked, his voice light, though she didn’t miss the way his fingers subtly tightened around his goblet.
Evangeline rolled her eyes, but she could feel a blush creeping into her cheeks. “This again? Sebastian, he just thanked me for stopping him from being knocked out.”
“Mhm,” Sebastian hummed, his gaze narrowing slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “That’s why he looked like he’d just won the Quidditch Cup while you were talking. And he asked you for ‘pointers,’ didn’t he?”
She felt her cheeks warm further but shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Well, maybe he’s just… appreciative of good teamwork.”
“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Sebastian’s smirk deepened, though his eyes held a hint of something sharper, something he was trying to disguise under his usual teasing. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a murmur. “You should watch yourself with Clearwater. He’s got a reputation, you know. Doesn’t exactly… stay loyal to the people he charms.”
Evangeline raised an eyebrow, amused at his sudden protectiveness. “Are you really lecturing me on loyalty, Mr. I’ve Been Flirting With Half of Hogwarts Since Term Started?”
He blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before chuckling softly, a hint of color rising in his cheeks. “That’s different,” he said, brushing it off. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”
"What is it you two are bickering about this time?" Ominis’s dry voice interrupted, cutting through their playful back-and-forth as he slid onto the bench beside them.
Sebastian leaned back, rolling his eyes but grinning. “Just sharing some wisdom about the pitfalls of inter-house ‘friendships.’”
Evangeline scoffed, nudging Sebastian’s shoulder with her own. “Apparently, Lysander Clearwater isn’t up to Sallow standards.”
Ominis raised an eyebrow, turning his head toward Sebastian, a wry smile ghosting his lips. “And here I thought your standards had been loosened by half the female population at Hogwarts. Pot, meet kettle.”
Sebastian groaned, looking between his two friends with a playfully exasperated look. “What’s this? Ganging up on me now? You both know that’s hardly fair.”
“Hardly fair?” Evangeline smirked, her eyes twinkling. “You started it. Apparently, Lysander looking my way is cause for a full inspection.”
Ominis chuckled softly, reaching for a roll and tearing it in half. “I assume he's already attacking poor Clearwater's character."
Sebastian rolled his eyes, though there was a slight twitch in his jaw as he tried to keep his expression casual. “I’m not attacking his character,” he protested, though his tone was defensive. “Just… pointing out that he’s got a reputation, that’s all.”
“Ah, yes,” Ominis said dryly, dipping his roll into his soup. “The renowned Sebastian Sallow, Protector of Morals and Character Assessment.”
Evangeline laughed, covering her mouth as she shot Sebastian an amused look as Ominis continued, “Lysander is a perfectly respectable Ravenclaw. As respectable as they come, actually. Unlike some people,” he added, raising an eyebrow in Sebastian’s direction.
Sebastian huffed, clearly unimpressed. “Respectable? Please. The guy flirts with anything that moves.”
“Oh, so it’s fine when you do it, but not when he does?” Evangeline teased, nudging him. “Sounds a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
Sebastian opened his mouth to retort but hesitated, searching for a suitable comeback. He ended up shrugging instead, though the slight flush in his cheeks betrayed him. “It’s different. I’m not trying to charm you into anything.”
The words lingered in the air, a thoughtless remark tossed out in the heat of their banter. But as they settled, Evangeline felt a prickling sting she hadn’t expected. He’d said it so casually—I’m not trying to charm you into anything—as if the idea of wanting to charm her was laughable.
Her smile faltered, the laughter between them fading like the last glow of a dying ember. She turned her face away, hiding the flicker of hurt that had crept into her eyes. For a heartbeat, she tried to push it aside, to pretend it didn’t matter, but the words stuck, a quiet ache settling in her chest.
Sebastian must have realized it too because his smirk vanished, replaced by a look of dawning regret as he watched her, but she was already looking down at her plate, jaw tight, unwilling to let him see how much his careless comment had landed. Ominis, observing the silent exchange, let out a sigh, clearly exasperated with the two of them, his fingers drumming impatiently on the table.
He was used to their back-and-forth, but lately, he’d been watching this game between them with a blend of fondness and frustration, certain they were the only two in the castle who couldn’t see what was right in front of them.
Evangeline straightened, feeling the weight of Sebastian’s gaze on her, but she didn’t dare look back. If he couldn’t see her as someone worth noticing, maybe someone else could. She pushed herself up from the table abruptly, drawing curious glances from both boys.
“Where are you going?” Sebastian asked, a hint of alarm creeping into his voice as she turned from him, refusing to meet his gaze.
She didn’t answer. Instead, she let her eyes drift across the hall, settling on the Ravenclaw table where Lysander sat among his friends, laughing over something. The sight of his easygoing smile brought a small sense of defiance blooming in her chest, and without another word, she strode over to the Ravenclaws, her chin held high.
Ominis watched her go, then turned to Sebastian, his expression flat with annoyance and pity. “Well done,” he said dryly, clearly unimpressed. “You’re truly a master of tact, Sallow.”
Sebastian barely heard him, his eyes fixed on Evangeline as she approached Lysander’s table. She was smiling now, though he could see the stiffness in her shoulders, the forced cheer in her expression as she struck up a conversation with the Ravenclaw Chaser. A knot twisted in his stomach as he watched Lysander’s face light up, his grin widening as Evangeline said something that made him laugh.
For a moment, Sebastian felt a pang of something hot and fierce that he didn’t want to name. He wanted to look away, pretend it didn’t matter, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from the scene. The way Lysander leaned in, the way Evangeline tilted her head with a smile—it stirred something raw inside him.
“Jealous?” Ominis asked, his voice cutting through Sebastian’s thoughts with maddening calmness.
Sebastian shot him a glare, bristling. “Of course not,” he muttered, but his voice sounded too tight, too strained to be convincing. He looked back toward Evangeline, who was now laughing at something Lysander had said, her head thrown back in a way that made her seem… free.
“Oh, of course,” Ominis drawled, crossing his arms. “That’s why you look ready to hex poor Clearwater where he sits.”
Sebastian clenched his jaw, his fists tightening under the table. “He’s… she doesn’t even like him,” he muttered, trying to sound unconcerned, but his eyes never left her.
"Maybe not yet," Ominis replied, his tone sharpening as he watched Sebastian’s face. "But surely you must realize that telling the woman you're in love with that you're not interested in her won’t exactly bring her closer, will it?"
Sebastian felt his stomach drop, his eyes snapping to Ominis. “I didn’t say I’m in—” he started, his voice low, but Ominis cut him off with a look, one that spoke volumes.
“Oh, spare me,” Ominis said, his exasperation clear. “Anyone with half a brain can see it, and I don’t even need my eyes.”
Sebastian’s shoulders slumped, his gaze flickering over to where Evangeline sat, laughing with Lysander as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She looked… happy. And that, somehow, made the ache in his chest even worse.
“Look, it’s not as simple as you think,” Sebastian muttered, finally tearing his eyes away. “She… she’s my best friend. If she knew… well, what if it ruins everything?”
Ominis sighed, setting down his spoon with a deliberate clink. "If she knew, she might understand why you’re behaving like a jealous idiot.”
Sebastian clenched his jaw, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words settling over him, heavy and irrefutable. Deep down, he knew his friend was right. He knew that this quiet jealousy simmering beneath his skin would only push her further away, that he was risking something valuable, something he hadn’t even admitted to himself in full.
But Sebastian Sallow had never been particularly known for his rational decisions, especially when emotions came into play. His impulse to act, to throw himself into a moment without worrying about the consequences, was hard-wired. And right now, he felt that impulsive urge flaring, pushing against his better judgment.
"Sebastian," Ominis warned, sensing the shift in his posture, the way his jaw set with stubborn resolve. “Don’t be foolish.
Sebastian forced a grin, though it felt hollow. “Relax, Ominis."
Ominis’s hand shot out, grabbing Sebastian’s arm with surprising strength. “Sebastian,” he said quietly, his tone a rare mixture of urgency and exasperation. “You’re going to make things worse. For both of you.”
Sebastian hesitated, just for a moment, feeling the weight of Ominis’s words and the weight of his grip. But then he shrugged him off, giving him a look that was equal parts defiance and frustration. “I appreciate your concern, Ominis. Really. But I know what I’m doing.”
Without another word, he turned and made his way across the Great Hall, ignoring Ominis’s quiet sigh and the slight shake of his head. He could feel the eyes of a few students on him as he crossed the room, the usual curious glances that followed him since term started. And he didn’t miss the way the group of Hufflepuff girls he’d noticed earlier sat up a little straighter as he approached, their whispers stopping as they exchanged excited looks.
He slid into an empty seat next to the nearest girl, offering her an easy smile that he’d perfected over years of half-hearted flirting. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice warm and inviting.
The girl—he thought her name was Lily—looked momentarily stunned, her cheeks flushing pink as she stammered a quick, “Not at all!” Her friends exchanged glances, their excitement barely contained, and Sebastian felt a fleeting surge of satisfaction. If Evangeline wanted to act like Lysander was the most charming bloke at Hogwarts, then he’d give her something to notice, too.
From across the hall, Evangeline felt her jaw clench as she watched Sebastian settle in among the Hufflepuff girls, his easy smile and charm on full display.
Fine, she thought, glancing away with forced indifference. If Sebastian wanted to throw himself at every girl who batted an eyelash his way, that was his choice. She certainly wasn’t going to sit around worrying over it. Instead, she turned her attention to Lysander, who was midway through a story about a misadventure in Ravenclaw Tower involving an escaped Fwooper.
She laughed, genuinely this time, as Lysander animatedly described the scene, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. The Ravenclaw’s charm was undeniable, his easygoing smile and gentle confidence putting her at ease. As she listened, she found herself relaxing, letting her focus shift from the sting of Sebastian’s behavior to the warmth of the conversation in front of her.
“So,” Lysander said, leaning slightly closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Is it true Gryffindor Beaters have secret drills for extra strength?”
Evangeline smirked, shrugging playfully. “Maybe. You’ll have to earn that kind of classified information, though.”
He grinned, lifting a brow, "Earn it, you say? And what exactly would it take for a humble Ravenclaw Chaser like me to earn such privileged information?”
Evangeline bit back a smile, trying to match his playful tone. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought. Inside, her heart was racing, each word requiring more confidence than she felt.
Unlike Sebastian, who seemed to flirt effortlessly and without a second thought, Evangeline was not naturally flirtatious. She was far deeper into this than she’d planned, each exchanged look and teasing remark drawing her further in. The thrill of it—the unfamiliar territory of genuine, mutual interest—sent a rush through her, both exhilarating and terrifying.
"Perhaps, we could discuss terms over a butterbeer at the Broomsticks?"
She couldn't believe the words had left her mouth. Had she really just suggested that? A flicker of nerves swept through her, and she fought to keep her expression steady, hoping her voice hadn’t sounded as shaky as she felt.
Lysander’s face lit up, his easy smile shifting into something warmer, almost excited. “Now that,” he said, leaning in just a touch closer, “sounds like an excellent idea. Would tomorrow work for you, Evangeline?"
Her heart gave a little flip at the way he said her name, soft and sure, like it was something he’d wanted to say for a while. She held his gaze, feeling her cheeks warm under his steady look, and couldn’t help the small, genuine smile that tugged at her lips. This felt… new, like she’d opened a door to something she hadn’t realized she wanted.
“Alright,” she replied, managing to keep her tone light, “but fair warning: Gryffindor terms are notoriously steep. I hope you’re prepared.”
Lysander chuckled, unfazed. “I’d expect nothing less."
Evangeline lingered with Lysander for another few minutes, their conversation light and easy, a comfortable warmth settling between them as they continued to exchange smiles and laughs.
Eventually, she glanced over her shoulder and noticed Ominis waiting patiently, his gaze turned politely toward the far end of the hall. She realized with a start that she’d been chatting with Lysander much longer than she’d meant to.
“Well,” she said, returning her gaze to Lysander, her lips curling into a soft smile. “Thanks for the company. And, um… I’ll see you tomorrow?”
Lysander’s smile widened, a hint of satisfaction in his expression. “Tomorrow it is. I’ll look forward to it, Evangeline.”
Her cheeks warmed as he said her name, and she gave him a small nod before finally breaking away. She turned and made her way back to Ominis, her heart still racing slightly from the thrill of agreeing to meet Lysander.
When she reached Ominis, he turned toward her with a bemused expression, his lips twitching into a faint smirk. “You were over there for a while,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement. “I’d nearly forgotten we were here to eat.”
Evangeline rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “I was just being friendly.”
“Friendly, hm?” Ominis arched an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “It looked a bit more than ‘friendly’ from where I was sitting. I’d go so far as to call it ‘charmed.’”
She tried to shrug off his comment, but the hint of color on her cheeks betrayed her. “Well… maybe there was a little charm involved.”
Ominis chuckled, his smirk widening. “It seems I’ll have to get used to you being the center of attention for once, though I think there’s one person here who won’t be quite as pleased about it.”
Evangeline’s smile faltered as she followed Ominis’s gaze back to where Sebastian sat with the Hufflepuff girls, his easy laugh and confident posture unmistakable. Even from a distance, she could tell he was laying on his charm. The familiar pang of irritation crept back into her chest as she watched him, feeling that strange, unsettling twist that she still didn’t want to name.
“It's not like I care what he thinks,” she muttered, crossing her arms.
Ominis gave her a long, skeptical look, one that made her cheeks burn. She shot him a warning glance, daring him to say anything more.
“Alright," He acquiesced, "So what did you and Clearwater talk about? Or should I be asking what you two agreed on, based on that smile?”
Evangeline hesitated, feeling her cheeks warm again under his knowing gaze. “He… may have agreed meet up for a butterbeer tomorrow. Just to, you know, chat about Quidditch and such.”
“Of course,” Ominis replied, his voice dripping with amused disbelief. “Just casual Quidditch talk, is it?”
She huffed, nudging him with her elbow. “Honestly, Ominis, it’s nothing serious. Just… something new. I thought it’d be fun.”
“Good,” Ominis said, his expression softening. “You deserve some fun, Evangeline.”
As they finished up lunch, they chatted about classes, gossip around the school, and their upcoming assignments, Ominis filling the time with his usual dry wit and grounded observations. The comfort of his friendship helped chase away the lingering thoughts of Sebastian and Lysander, allowing her to settle into a sense of ease once again.
Later that evening, Evangeline and Ominis tucked themselves into a quiet corner of the library to study. Stacks of parchment, a handful of old textbooks, and an assortment of quills were spread out between them, illuminated by the flickering glow of a nearby lantern. The library was mostly empty, the muffled silence only broken by the occasional soft footsteps of Scribner as she prowled the aisles, keeping an eagle eye on the few students who lingered.
Evangeline was absorbed in her notes when she sensed movement out of the corner of her eye. Glancing up, she nearly dropped her quill. Sebastian was weaving his way through the shelves, and he looked… well, thoroughly disheveled.
His shirt was partially untucked, his tie hanging loosely and crooked, and his dark curls were charmingly mussed, as though he’d either been in a hurry—or had been busy with something else entirely. His gaze darted around the library as if searching for someone, and when his eyes landed on her, he froze.
Ominis noticed her sudden silence and looked up. “Is something wrong?” he asked, but then he followed her gaze and gave an exasperated sigh. “Ah. I see someone’s had an eventful evening.”
Sebastian made his way over to them, sliding into the seat across from her with a lazy grin, entirely unbothered by his disheveled state. “Evening,” he said, stretching out and folding his hands behind his head, giving off an air of smug satisfaction.
“Had a good night, did we?” Ominis asked, not bothering to mask the sarcasm.
Sebastian shrugged, looking at them with a glint in his eye. “Not bad,” he replied. “I may have run into a few people who needed entertaining.”
Evangeline kept her face carefully blank, refusing to give Sebastian the satisfaction of a reaction, but beneath the surface, she felt like the air had been pulled from her lungs.
Her chest tightened painfully as she imagined what he'd been up to, and with whom. A vague, irrational jealousy flared, stinging her with an intensity she hadn’t expected.
It wasn’t fair, she told herself. She had no right to feel this way, no right to feel possessive over him, but that didn’t stop her mind from replaying the image of him hidden away with some Hufflepuff girl in a broom closet, his face inches from hers, that same lazy grin he now wore aimed at someone else. The idea left a bitter taste in her mouth.
After a tense silence, she managed to last another five minutes, pretending to be engrossed in her studies, but each second felt like a fresh test of her endurance. Finally, unable to stand the smug look on Sebastian’s face or the suffocating jealousy tightening in her chest, she snapped her book shut.
“I think that’s all for me tonight,” she announced, shoving her notes and quill into her bag with hurried movements. “I’ve got an early morning.”
Ominis, perceptive as ever, raised an eyebrow but kept a knowing smile to himself. “Goodnight, Evie,” he replied, and then, as though he’d read her thoughts, added with perfectly timed mischief, “And enjoy your butterbeer with Lysander tomorrow.”
The effect on Sebastian was immediate. His relaxed posture tensed, and his lazy grin faded, his brows drawing together in confusion and irritation. He opened his mouth to say something, but Evangeline was already getting to her feet, determined to escape before he could ask any questions.
“Thanks, Ominis,” she said, shooting him a small, grateful smile, as if he’d somehow offered her a lifeline. “Goodnight, Sebastian,” she added with forced nonchalance, barely looking at him.
“Night, Evie,” he replied, but his voice lacked its usual warmth, and she could feel his eyes boring into her as she made her way toward the library exit.
As Evangeline disappeared around the corner, Sebastian watched the spot where she’d just been, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He seemed to be struggling to process what Ominis had just casually dropped into the conversation. A date with Lysander Clearwater? Since when did she—
“What was that all about?” Sebastian finally asked, his voice tight as he turned to Ominis. His eyes held a mix of frustration and something that bordered on betrayal.
Ominis leaned back in his chair, looking far too pleased with himself. “What?" he replied, feigning innocence as he flipped open his book again, though he wasn’t even glancing at the page.
Sebastian huffed, crossing his arms and sinking back in his chair. “Since when is she… going on dates."
“Oh, since today,” Ominis replied, his tone smooth and maddeningly calm. “She asked him out. They’re meeting at the Three Broomsticks.”
She asked him?! The confirmation made something twist uncomfortably in Sebastian’s chest. He remembered Evie talking to Clearwater earlier, her bright smile and relaxed demeanour, the way she’d laughed with him in a way that looked so… easy. And now, that same ease would be shared over butterbeer, while he’d be left to watch from the sidelines, unwanted and out of place.
“What’s so great about him, anyway?” Sebastian muttered, glaring at a distant spot on the library wall. “He’s… boring. Probably reads strategy books for fun.”
Ominis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Don’t be so dramatic, Sebastian. Lysander’s a perfectly decent person. He’s polite, intelligent, kind—qualities Evangeline seems to appreciate.” He shot Sebastian a sidelong glance, his gaze softening. “It’s not exactly a mystery why she might enjoy his company.”
Sebastian scoffed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “He’s just not… right for her. They’ve barely spoken before this term.”
“And you’d rather have her stay by your side, trailing after you while you flirt with every girl who looks your way?” Ominis raised an eyebrow, his tone cool. “You can’t have it both ways, Sebastian.”
“I’m not—” Sebastian started, his frustration growing as Ominis’s words dug under his skin. “It’s not like that. I just don’t see why she has to be with someone like him.”
Ominis closed his book with a soft thud, fixing Sebastian with a patient yet exasperated look. “Listen, Sebastian. You’re my best friend, but you’re also insufferably thick sometimes. If you're not going to admit how you feel, then you should at least be happy for her.”
Sebastian’s fists clenched at his sides, unwilling to admit that Ominis was right, that this wasn’t just a matter of Clearwater’s supposed faults. No, it was the gnawing feeling in his chest, the realization that he’d taken her presence for granted—believing, foolishly, that she’d always be there, waiting in the background, just for him.
“Do you really think she’s… interested in him?” he asked quietly, almost hoping Ominis would tell him otherwise.
Ominis sighed, softening. “I think she’s looking for someone who appreciates her, and Lysander’s offered her that. And frankly, she deserves it.” Then, after a beat, he added pointedly, “But it doesn’t have to be him, Sebastian. You could stop pretending you’re not interested.”
Sebastian didn’t respond immediately, staring at the table as if it held answers he couldn’t grasp. Obviously, he wasn’t about to admit to Evangeline that he was undeniably, completely, and utterly in love with her—and had been for over a year now. There was a terrifying vulnerability in even considering it, in risking the one constant he’d always counted on.
But the image of her laughing with Lysander, of her being charmed by him and agreeing to meet him tomorrow, tugged at something deep and raw within him. The thought of her choosing someone else, someone who didn’t know her half as well as he did... he couldn't take it.
Without another word to Ominis, Sebastian pushed back his chair and stood, his resolve hardening with each step he took toward the library exit. Behind him, he heard Ominis sigh, but he didn’t have time to worry about what Ominis thought. Right now, he only knew one thing—he couldn’t just sit there while she walked out of his reach.
The corridors were dim and quiet as he hurried after her, his footsteps echoing as he scanned each hallway, hoping he hadn’t lost her. His heart thudded with a mixture of nerves and frustration as he rounded a corner and finally spotted her, her dark hair falling over her shoulders as she made her way toward the staircase.
“Evie!” he called, his voice louder than he’d intended in the quiet of the castle.
She stopped, turning to see him striding toward her, and her eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting between surprise and something he couldn’t quite place. “Sebastian?” she said, folding her arms defensively as he closed the distance between them.
He hadn’t thought this far ahead. Standing in front of her now, the words he’d wanted to say evaporated, replaced by the realization that he had no plan, only a jumble of emotions he hadn’t sorted out. But he couldn’t turn back now, not with her looking at him like that, as if she could see right through his bravado.
“I, um…” He ran a hand through his hair, stalling for a moment. “I just—didn’t get a chance to say goodnight properly.”
Evangeline raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Goodnight properly?” She huffed, clearly unconvinced.
Sebastian shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling the weight of her skepticism. “Yeah, you know… just thought I should… say it,” he stumbled, his usual easy confidence faltering. “I mean, you left pretty quickly.”
Evangeline’s brow arched higher, her arms still crossed as she gave him a level look. “I'm tired,” she replied, her voice calm, but there was a flicker of irritation in her eyes. “Long day. And I need to be up early tomorrow."
Sebastian’s jaw tightened, and he tried to brush it off, but the words stung, his stomach twisting at the reminder. “Right, for Clearwater,” he said, his tone sharper than he’d intended.
She narrowed her eyes, her irritation flaring. “And?"
Sebastian took a steadying breath, fighting to keep his composure, but his frustration slipped into his tone. “And I just don’t see why you’d waste your time with him, that’s all.”
Evangeline’s eyes flashed, and she uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. “Waste my time? Since when is having a simple butterbeer wasting my time?”
He clenched his fists, struggling to find the right words. “It’s not that, it’s just… I don’t think he’ll appreciate you. Not really.”
She let out a breath, exasperated. “And you know that how? Did Clearwater suddenly become some kind of villain while I wasn’t looking?”
“No, but—”
“But nothing, Sebastian.” Her voice softened, but there was a sadness there, a deep disappointment that cut through him. “If you can’t be happy for me, then at least don’t make me feel bad for wanting… something new.
Sebastian felt his chest tighten, a desperate urge clawing at him to stop her, to make her see how he felt. But he was paralyzed, the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was watch as she shook her head slightly, her face a mixture of frustration and resignation.
“Goodnight, Sebastian,” she said, her voice laced with a forced calm that did little to hide the sting behind her words. “Have fun snogging your flavor of the week in whatever broom closet you end up in.”
The jab landed harder than he expected, and he flinched, momentarily caught off guard by the bitterness in her tone. She didn’t wait for a response, though. Before he could say anything, she’d already turned, her footsteps brisk and purposeful as she disappeared down the hall.
Sebastian stood there, rooted to the spot, a mixture of guilt and frustration twisting in his chest. The hollow emptiness that followed her departure settled into something heavier, something that gnawed at him with each step she took further out of reach.
A part of him wanted to run after her, to catch her arm and tell her that none of it mattered, that the flirting, the charm he used so carelessly—it was all meaningless. He wanted to tell her that it was only her smile, her laugh, her presence that he craved, that his foolish pride had kept him from admitting what he knew deep down: he didn’t want anyone else.
But he’d let her walk away, and it was too late to take that back now.
#ao3 author#fanfic#archive of our own#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#hogwarts legacy fandom#sebastian sallow#not actually unrequited love#fluff and angst#angst#mutual pining#friends to lovers#jealousy#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry#hogwarts legacy#hogwarts legacy fanfic#sebastian sallow x oc#sebastian sallow x mc
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fresh start
part two (chapters 4-6) previous part • next part
word count: 6.5k
content warnings: references to self-h*rm
Lily
Waking up with a hangover was humbling to say the least. My head pounded as I battled with myself to slowly open eyes, the sunlight streaming into my bedroom making me want to immediately close them again.
I needed coffee.
And after last night, I know my roommates did too.
I pulled on the closest clothes I could find. Some striped shorts and my favourite, over worn, UMass soccer hoodie before brushing my teeth hoping the taste of vokda would leave my mouth.
Walking to the coffee shop gave me the fresh air I desperately needed. There are few things that make me feel slightly humane again after a night of drinking: coffee, of course, a burning hot shower and fresh air. Coffee was next on the list and then I was going back to my apartment to shower away the remnants of my first night out here at UConn.
I cast my mind back to our evening at Huskies and the harmless flirting between me and Paige. She had a way with words that made my stomach flip and I wasn't mad about it. Kelsey said there were no rules about having fun when it came to our Single Sisters pact and that's exactly what I was doing, having fun. It felt refreshing to finally be feeling like myself again, sometimes it's hard to remember what I was like before everything happened. Before I loved and lost. But it's coming back to me naturally and the Lily I was two years ago would of had a field day flirting with Paige and that is what I intend to do.
I ordered Kelsey and I the same coffees we got yesterday and opted for simple americanos for Hannah and Madison, not knowing their personal orders just yet. The smell inside of the coffee shop alone was enough to bring me back to life an extra 10% so I couldn't wait to devour my drink. Once I had paid for and received my order, I took a big gulp, thanking myself for the early morning coffee run whilst my roommates slept in.
"Great minds think alike." I turned around at the sound of a familiar voice. A very tired looking Azzi, Ice and to my pleasure Paige walked into the cafè.
"Hey guys." I say, instinctively fixing my hair which, without looking at it, I knew was a mess. "Hungover?" I ask looking at the basketball players all dressed in some variation of Huskies gear. "Deathly." Ice replied strolling to the counter to get her caffeine fix. "Signs of a great night! Did you have fun?" Azzi asks me. "Yeah, for sure! Thanks for letting us hang." I smile at Azzi and she returns the pleasantry showing off her perfect teeth, "No worries, it was fun having y'all with us. We'll have to do it again sometime, build your Huskies tolerance." She laughs following behind Ice and getting in line to order.
Paige and I come face to face for the first time since last night and I can confidently say, it wasn't the alcohol or moody low lighting of the bar that made her look so good because she looks equally as good right now.
100% sober and in broad daylight.
"What is that?" She says scrunching her brows together pointing in my direction. I glance at the four coffees pushed into the holder in my left hand, "Coffee run. I was the first one awake, thought I'd get my good deed in early." I explain. "No, that." She says reaching out and tugging at the shoulder of my UMass soccer hoodie. "A hoodie?" I say confused. "Yeah, a hoodie from the wrong college darling. You need a Huskies one." She says matter of factly and I laugh. "The Huskies need to prove themselves to me first." I say cheekily. "Easily done." She quips back glowing with confidence...or cockiness, I couldn't decide but either way it was attractive.
"Here." Azzi hands Paige a to-go cup similar to the ones in my hand and Paige thanks her. "Walk back with us?" Azzi asks me and I nod, "Sure." Ice and Azzi lead while Paige and I follow them out of the cafè.
"Fan of nuts?" I direct at Paige as I glance down at her drink, 'Hazelnut' written on the lid. "Only the food kind." She smirks clearly remembering Kelseys joke from last night like I had hoped.
Being a girl who likes girls, it can be hard to navigate friendships and relationships. Not knowing if someone likes you or likes you can be confusing. Clarification from Paige, that she is in fact, for the girls put my questioning mind at ease.
"Ok, this is me." I say to the group as we reach my apartment building. The girls come to stop and we awkwardly hug each other over the numerous cups of coffee on our hands. "Happy hanging." Ice says as I wave the girls goodbye and walk into the building to supply my friends with the coffee I know they so desperately need.
"You're a literal angel!" Madison beams taking a sip of her coffee throwing her head back, eyes closed in exaggerated happiness. "A lifesaver!" Hannah agrees hugging the coffee to her chest. "My hero." Kelsey chimes in hugging me from behind, her head resting on my shoulder. I laugh at the girls around me and we all sit together on the couch ready to debrief our night. Real girlhood.
"I'm never doing that many shots again." Madison groans rubbing her temple. "Girl, you literally challenged a guy to see who could have the most and you did not back down." Kelsey laughed. "And I won." Madison says bowing to an imaginary crowd. "My best friends no quitter." Hannah hyped up her friend.
"Right, lets get juicy! Did anyone see someone they liked? Kels, don't think we didn't see you lip locking in the corner." Madison teases. "Actually, I didn't!" I say suddenly sitting up straight. "No, because you were with Paige most of the night. Don't think we didn't see that either." All three girls stared at me, brows raised, small smiles on their faces.
"No no, Kelsey first." I say diverting the attention back to Kelseys situation. "Listen, I saw a hot guy and took my chance, you can't blame a girl." She says shrugging her shoulders. "He's never hearing from me though, gave him a fake number." She grins happy with herself.
Three sets of eyes landed on me so I had no choice but to spill the beans.
"There was no lip locking, lets get that clear." I started with. "Just some harmless flirting, nothing serious." I tell the girls. "But Paige Bueckers, you know her lore right?" Hannah asks eyebrows raised. "Not exactly." I admit.
"She's the best college womens basketball player right now. She has thousands of boys and girls pining over her. She's wanted Lils and from what I could see she couldn't take her eyes off you the entire night." I roll my eyes, "Please, she was just messing. Clearly thats her personality." I defend the blonde. "Clearly not. I've been around Paige in bars enough times to know she doesn't pay anyone attention. She stays with her friends almost always." Madison chimed in. "And that's exactly what we are: friends!" I say exaggerating the last word to get my point across.
"Uh huh. I give it a few weeks max and there will be lip locking!" Kelsey nudges her elbow into my side. "Actually I'm taking my single junior year pledge very seriously, I will not be strayed." I stand my ground. "Who said anything about not being single. Word on the street is Paige doesn't do commitment but she does do - if you know what I mean." Madison says cheekily. "Oh my god! Enough." I stand up from the couch, covering my ears, slightly flustered at the thought.
Flirting is one thing anything further feels too soon. I'm notorious for catching feelings and I'm not about to get my heartbroken again.
The rest of the day was spent lazing around the apartment, going from each other rooms talking about anything and everything. At one point I was alone in my room aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I opened up Instagram and searched Paiges name without even thinking about it.
One million followers. Wow. Ok, maybe I didn't know much about Paige at all. I scrolled through her posts seeing endless streams of comments of adoration. People loved Paige. I went as far back as her ACL injury and my stomach sank a little for the girl. That must have been a hard thing to go through. I swipe off before I accidentally like something from two years ago, not that she'd notice. I choose not to follow her for the same reason but do find Kayla in her following list and follow her. Almost instantly she follows back.
"I'm about to cook some pasta, want some?" Kelsey asks, peeking her head round my bedroom door. Now that she's mentioned it, I am kind of hungry. "Sure, I'll come help." I say and stand up from my bed leaving my phone behind.
Kelsey puts some pasta noodles to boil on the stove while I cut some chicken to cook along side it. The small kitchen quickly becomes warm, too warm for me to be wearing a sweater. I do have a t-shirt on underneath, that's not the problem.
My scars are.
Kelsey has been nothing but understanding and loving in the few days I've got to know her but this is a big step for me. People don't always know how to react and I'd hate to make her uncomfortable.
"I'm sweating." Kelsey says as if reading my mind, pulling her own sweater over her head and throwing over onto the couch.
Fresh start, Lily. I remind myself.
Three, two, one. I count down in my head before mirroring my roommates actions, my own hoodie landing beside hers on the couch.
I feel vulnerable and slightly exposed but theres no way I would be able to hide this forever. I live with these girls and sooner or later, they were bound to see this part of me.
If Kelsey notices the deep scars along side the inside of my arm, she doesn't mention anything. We continue to cook our dinner and eat together at the table before washing our dishes.
"Look at us being housewives." She jokes as we finish tidying the kitchen. "Aren't we just perfect." I say back before flopping down on the couch still feeling the effects of last night. "The most perfect perfectly perfect pair." Kelsey says flopping down next to me linking her arm through mine.
She doesn't look at me when she says this and I understand why, "I'm here for you Lily. I don't know what exactly you've been through and I'll never push you to speak about it but I'm here when and if you're ever ready to talk." She says and squeezes my arm thats interlocked with hers before resting her head on my shoulder. "Thank you, Kels." I reply tears brimming my eyes. The reassurance and empathy from my roommate makes my heart swell, I'm so grateful for Kelsey.
I grab the TV remote and turn on Netflix and we settle down for an impromptu movie marathon. It was Friday and classes didn't start until Monday so the fact we we're still awake at 3AM watching our third movie of the night didn't matter.
I drag my defeated body to bed around 4AM desperate for sleep. I check my phone after leaving it for hours.
ice.bradyy followed you.
nika.muhl followed you.
azzi35 followed you.
janaelalfy8 followed you.
aaliyahedwards_24 followed you.
aubrey.griffin44 followed you.
kamoreaarnold followed you.
and last but not least,
paigebueckers followed you.
I cringe to myself at the thought of Paige scrolling through my feed the way I did hers. I quickly scan through my posts to see what Paige would have seen if she had and silently thank myself for the recent - and not to blow my own trumpet - hot selfie. Paige was quickly infiltrating my mind and I could only hope I was infiltrating hers.
I followed all of the girls back before falling into bed.
Paige
KK, Nika, Azzi, Kayla and I were spread out on the couches of our dorm all individually engrossed in our phones. We had been like this for most of the day, taking advantage of a rare down day before the basketball season and classes began again.
I didn't drink too much last night so I wasn't feeling the effects of the alcohol like some of the other girls were. Ice hadn't left her bedroom since we got back from getting coffee.
"Oh, Lily just followed me on Instagram." Kayla speaks up from her seat across from me. My attention was caught at the mention of the brunette that was living rent free in my mind at the moment.
"Whats her handle?" Nika asks, "I have some pictures from last night to send her." "Me too." Azzi adds.
"Lily.Kent." Kayla says turning her phone around to the group displaying Lilys feed.
I couldn't see too clearly from my position so I pulled up her page on my phone.
Damn.
"She's hot!" KK exclaims as if she had taken the words straight from my brain. I shoot her a glare, "She wants to stay single this year." I say to the girl. "And you know this, how?" Azzi asks quizzically. "She told me yesterday." I shrug.
"Wow, you already slid in? That's a new Paige record." Nika proclaimed. "And she rejected you?!" KK asks shocked but also slightly amused.
"She did not reject me." I make clear, "and I didn't slide in to anything. We were just talking and she mentioned wanting to stay single this year."
"And let me guess," Azzi starts, "you're taking that as a challenge."
"Damn right." I declared as I pushed the follow button on Lilys profile.
I'll be damned if I let anyone else be the reason she takes that bracelet off.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
Lily
Monday morning came around quicker than I expected and as I was sat with my roommates drinking our morning coffees before our classes started.
My phones ringtone rang out across the living room and I picked it up from its place face down on the couch.
Kayla was facetiming me.
It was 9AM on Monday morning so either Kayla was a morning person or she had something important to say.
"Hey K!" I smiled down at my phone and a very happy looking Kayla smiled back at me. "Morning Lily! Check your emails!" She blurted unable to stop grinning.
My emails? I've never given Kayla my email address.
"Ok, one second." I swiped off of FaceTime, Kayla now in a small box on the side of my screen. I opened up my mail app and refreshed.
The email at the top of my inbox was from Janet Knight. Oh my god! The job!
I quickly clicked on the email, "Oh my god!" I screech, "I got the job!" I say not only to Kayla but my roommates too who were all looking slightly concerned at my sudden high energy this early in the morning.
"Yeah you did!" Kayla triumphed with me as my roommates wrapped me in a hug.
"Congrats Lils." Hannah beams pressing a kiss on my cheek. "She's an employee!" Kelsey jokes.
"How did you know?" I turn my attention back to Kayla. She smirks, panning the camera around to reveal that she's seated in Janets office, "Thought I'd pop by and see Janet before class." She says winking at me.
"Welcome to the team, Kent." Janet says down the phone from her seat behind the desk. "Thank you so much Janet! You have no idea how much this means to me." I thank the woman, "I can't wait to start."
"That's music to my ears because - I'll send you your rota - but your first shift is Wednesday." She tells me.
"Ok, so we need to celebrate, right?" Kayla says turning the camera back to herself once Janet had stopped talking. "Oh please, not Huskies again so soon." Madison groans pushing herself in view of the camera, "I'm still recovering."
Kayla laughs, "I was thinking dinner at the Mexican restaurant downtown?" She asks us. "Immediately yes!" Kelsey calls from her place on the couch across from me. Madison, Hannah and I all agree.
"Amazing, it's a date! Now get to class y'all, you can't be late on your first day of junior year." She fake scolds before ending the call.
Kelsey, Madison, Hannah and I all leave the apartment together before eventually going our separate ways to our respective classes.
My day was filled with meeting my professors and classmates so time flew by and before I knew it the school day was over. Kayla had text me earlier, asking me to meet her at the athletics building once I had finished for the day so I was heading there now.
As I entered the building, the sound of balls bouncing let me know there was some sort of practice going on. I followed the sound to a set of double doors with the Huskies logo on the front. I peeked through the glass on the door, I saw KK and Azzi immediately, playing 1v1. I allowed my gaze to travel across the court, spotting the other girls and some I hadn't met yet too. I was slightly disheartened that a certain blonde wasn't on the court and was about to leave when my view was blocked by a body standing in front of the glass in the door, on the other side. The door was yanked open and I can only imagine I looked like a deer caught in headlights.
"Lily? What are you doing here?" Paige was the body blocking my view of the court, now my view was her.
She stood in front of me, lightly sweating and panting ever so slightly. She wore navy, UConn shorts and a short sleeve compression shirt, the sleeves scrunched and tucked into her sports bra straps, showing off her toned arms.
"Um-"
Why could I never think straight around this girl?
A small smirk spread on her face as she watched me struggle to find words. "I'm meeting Kayla." I smile, proud of myself for stringing together a coherent sentence while in Paiges presence. "Lucky for you, I'm heading upstairs - I can show you the way." She says stepping past me and leading the way to the offices.
I'm sure I could have found Kaylas office by myself but Paige didn't need to know that.
"Did you start classes today?" She asks as we walk up the stairs, her slightly ahead of me. "Yeah, been in them all day." I reply. "How did you find them?"
"Good, I guess." "You guess? Better than your last college though, you must have transferred for a reason." She says turning to look at me as we walk down the familiar corridor towards the offices.
"I didn't transfer because UMass was a bad college, besides it was more of an induction day today, no actual work got done but it was good!" I try and sound more positive. "Ignore my lack of energy, I forgot what it was like to be in a routine." I explain myself. "Why did you transfer then?" She asks looking at me slightly confused, head tilted. "It's a secret." I say smirking, making the situation more lighthearted than it actually was.
My reason for transferring wasn't a secret, I liked Paige and didn't want to scare her away.
Before Paige could press me for an answer, Kayla stepped into the hallway, seeing us approaching her office, "Hi guys!" she smiles wide.
"Hi Kayla!" "Hi K!" Paige and I respond and follow her into her office.
"Now, I know why Lilys here but whats up Paige?" Kayla questions Paige.
We both look at her waiting for an answer, "I- um -I.." She stutters and Kayla and I giggle.
Did Paige really not have a reason to be here? Did she lie about going the same way as me?
"Relax P, sit down." Kayla instructs and Paige shuffles her way to the couch in the office and perches on the edge, elbows rested on her knees and her face rested in her hands.
Kayla had asked me to come to the office to fill out some paperwork before I had my first shift and to also get my staff ID badge printed.
"If you just position yourself in front of the camera and I'll count down before I take the photo." Kayla says as I sit in front of the tripod. I fuss with my hair for a second and straighten my posture before pulling my cheesiest grin. "3..2..1." Kayla counts down before the shutter clicks telling me the photo had been taken.
Kayla leaves the room to go and collect the printed ID card and before I've move from my seat in front of the tripod, Paige crosses the room and stands looking at the screen on the camera that was displaying my photo, she smiles. "Is it bad?" I ask, "Am I blinking or something?" "Come look." She says beckoning me over.
I take the few steps that's needed for me to reach Paige and the camera and I squish myself into her in an attempt to get a look and the picture of me on the small screen.
Our bodies touching made my stomach do that thing it loves to do around Paige and I shiver slightly.
"Cold?" Paige asks hooking an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to her. Jesus. It wasn't just my stomach feeling things now. I shake my head, "No, jumpscare after looking at that." I joke about my picture, it wasn't bad in all honesty, I just looked like it was my first day of high school with that big smile on my face.
"Don't play, Lily." She says looking down at me, eyes as blue as ever. "You're insanely beautiful." She removes her arm from my shoulder and brings her hand to my face, tucking my hair behind my ear, grazing my cheek as she does. "Don't forget it."
I swallowed hard not knowing how to react to Paiges compliment or her touch, I just stared up at her my eyes flicking down to her lips before we were interrupted.
"Here, all done!" Kayla enters the room again, my newly printed badge and lanyard in her out stretched hand. Her eyes flip between me and Paige and our proximity and the obvious tension in the air. I cough, clearing my throat and step away from Paige taking my lanyard from Kayla and hooking it around my neck. "Thank you, Kayla."
"No worries girl. You ready to EAT?" She asks emphasising the last the word as she packed a few things away in her bag, getting ready to leave.
"Yes! I'm starved." I say suddenly extremely hungry after a long first day.
"Hey! What's this, going to eat without me?" Paige asks giving us her best pout.
I look to Kayla, she was the one who made these plans so I don't know who she invited although I hoped Paige was on the list, she clearly wasn't.
"Actually, I mentioned it to Ice, she said y'all are training late tonight." Kayla turns to Paige as we followed her out of her office. "That is true." Paige says, "Geno wants us in the gym, not that I need it." She flexes her muscles and I feel a blush creep onto my face. "Put those away." Kayla huffs and rolls her eyes at Paige playfully.
We say goodbye to Paige at the entrance of the basketball court and she disappears behind same the doors she appeared from earlier.
"The tension when you guys are in a room together is insane! Please tell me you're aware." Kayla says to me, grabbing onto my arm. I laugh, "Of course I'm aware, it's driving me crazy." I tell her. "So do something! Make a move." She encourages and I shake my head, "No. I made a pact to be single this year and I don't know Paige well enough yet." I say and both are true.
I mean, I care less about the pact - sorry Kelsey - but I feel like I need to know Paige more before our harmless flirting turns into anything else.
"But I know Paige, she a nice girl Lils, like really nice." Kayla defends her friend. "You would say that, you're her friend. How do I know she isn't entertaining a load of girls. I'm not looking to get my heartbroken." I say honestly to Kayla. "For what it's worth, she isn't entertaining anyone at the moment." Kayla continues, "Just say you'll be open minded." "I'm opened minded." I agree and I am, I'm just also healing and would like to minimise the need to heal again.
Paige
Practice ended around 9PM and I was beat. Ready to shower and go to sleep as soon as I was home. Azzi and I drove back to our dorm together, it was a short ride but it felt safer driving, especially at night.
"You're being weird." Azzi stated turning her body in the passenger seat to look at me fully. "Huh?" I asked even though I heard her perfectly. "You're so distracted, what's going on?" My best friend pushed, she knew me better than anyone else, sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself.
I shifted in my seat unsure how to answer because "I've got a brain numbing crush on a girl I met four days ago and I can't do anything without the thought of her entering my mind and taking over" sounded way too insane. I liked to keep it nonchalant but I was feeling pretty chalant when it came to Lily.
"Hello," Azzi waved her hand at me, "Paige you're kinda worrying me now." She said suddenly serious. "What? No, don't worry! There's no need to worry Az. I'm just- I'm..I'm down bad." I admit, pulling the car into park as we reached our dorm.
Azzi wasted no time before bursting out laughing, I shot her a stern glare, "What is funny?" I scowl. "You!" She continues to laugh, "You're never usually like this, what's gotten into you?" She asks. "I don't know, I think I'm maturing." I half joke puffing out my chest.
Azzi was right, I was never usually like this. No girl had ever had me flustered before the way Lily does. It's like every time I'm a room with her I want to be next to her, speaking to her, touching her. Not in a sexual way just in a 'I want you close at all times' way.
"Yeah right." Azzi rolls her eyes at the thought of me ever maturing. "Maybe you need someone to tone down your cockiness." She jokes. "I'm not cocky, I'm confident." I defend myself. "And I'm confident that's your girl." Azzi says pointing through the windshield, I follow her gaze and sure enough Kayla, Lily, Hannah and Madison are walking towards the apartment building, they must have just finished up with their dinner. "Stay here and thank me later!" Azzi says swiftly jumping out of my car and jogging over to the group.
I watch as a few words are exchanged and Azzi gestures over in my direction. Kayla, Azzi, Madison and Hannah then walk into the apartment block, leaving Lily alone but its only a few seconds before she makes her way over to my car.
"Hey Lily." I say through my open window, "Hi Paige, what's up?" I was unsure what Azzi said to get Lily to come over to me so I had to think fast with what to say. "How was your dinner?" I ask. "Oh, it was great! I love Mexican food." She says with a smile. "How was practice?" She asks me in return. "It was good today, hit some personal records." I flex my biceps, "Can you tell?" I smirk at her. "Hmm I don't know." She squints her eyes dramatically. "Maybe you'd have a better view if you got in the car and it wouldn't look like I was trying to kidnap you to anyone walking past." I say matter of factly and watch as Lily walks round the front of my car, to the passenger side and lets herself in.
"So, I know the dessert at the Mexican place downtown sucks, let me make it up to you." I say to Lily as she makes herself comfortable in my passenger seat.
That was a view I could get used to.
"What exactly are you insinuating Paige Bueckers?" She asks, brows raised and a small smirk on her face. God damn. Normal Paige would have wasted no time taking Lily straight to her bedroom but right now, I just wanted to spend time with Lily, be in her presence. Everything else would happen in time.
"Fro-Yo, of course." I grin and start the car, pulling away from the dorm parking lot.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
Lily
Unlike me, Paige knew Storrs really well so it didn't take long for us to arrive at the Fro-Yo place she had in mind.
"I'm about to get the biggest tub of Fro-Yo ever bought!" Paige says as she brings the car to a halt, cutting the ignition and removing the key. "Not as big as mine!" I challenge her and we both exit the car, meeting side by side in front of it before walking up to the shop.
I hold sweet treats very close to my heart and frozen yogurt happens to be in my top three sweet treat options.
There were no other customers in the small dessert shop so we headed straight for the counter. I glanced over the numerous flavours and topping varieties as if I didn't already have a go to order. Obviously, this wasn't my usual place but they still had all my favourites.
"What can I get you ladies?" The man stood behind the counter, dressed in a pinstripe apron asked us.
Paige ordered hers first, "Can I get chocolate with strawberries, brownie bites, cookies and cream, fruity pebbles and chocolate sauce please?" She realed of her order. The man nodded reaching for a tub, "Any allergies before I start?" "Not for me but she's allergic to nuts. All kinds." Paige replies before I even have a chance to. "Noted." He says and starts to fill the tub.
Paige turns to me and smiles and I smile back, big and wide, "Thank you." I mummble. It made me feel warm inside that Paige cared enough to remember my allergy. It seems really insignificant but sometimes its the small things that have a big impact. "I got you." She says turning to face me and leaning back on the counter.
"How's that club of yours going?" She asks me raising her eyebrows glancing at my wrist, my shirt sleeve covered my bracelet but I knew what she was talking about. "It's going strong." I say pulling my sleeve up slightly, exposing the bracelet. "I don't know, it looks like it's getting a little loose to me." She says reaching out and tugging on it like she did the night in the bar. "If you keep yanking it, it'll be more than loose, it'll break." I say pulling my arm away from her. "That's the plan." She says quietly as she turns around to collect her order but I hear her loud and clear.
"And for you? No nuts obviously!" The man says looking at me. "Can I please get strawberry with raspberries, strawberries, mango, chocolate chips, cookie dough and chocolate sauce?" I tell him my order and he swiftly begins to fill my tub.
I look at Paige who's already started eating her Fro-Yo. Her hair is pulled into a slick ponytail and she's changed out of her workout gear from earlier and is now wearing sweatpants and UConn hoodie, she looks so effortlessly good, I can't imagine the girl ever looking bad.
"There you go." My order was complete and I took it from the server, "Thank you." I say to him. "That'll be $12." He says. I reach into my pocket to grab my phone to pay with ApplePay but by the time I look up, Paige's phone is already tapping the card machine. "My treat." She winks at me and we leave the shop.
"You didn't have to do that, thank you." I say to Paige as we climb back into her car, desserts in hand. "I dragged you here, it's only right." She says before digging back into her frozen yogurt. "I came willingly, actually." I say back to her, I liked being around Paige and I wanted her to know that. "Good to know."
We ate our frozen yogurt still sat outside the store. Paige asked me about my new job and I told her that my first shift was on Wednesday and how excited but also nervous I was.
"This Wednesday?" She asked and I nodded, "Yep." "That's our open training day. Media usually come in, see how we're doing and do interviews." She tells me.
Janet hadn't actually said what my first day would entail but I assume I'll be part of the open training Paige was talking about.
"I guess I'll be there then so no pressure." I say smirking. "I don't know pressure, never met her." Paige says confidently and I believe her, she doesn't strike me as someone who doesn't believe in herself. "I don't know much about basketball so it'll be day of learning for me." "Wait really? You don't watch basketball?" She looks genuinely confused, she stops eating and looks at me dead in the eyes. "Nope, I'm a soccer girl." I tell her. "Oh, we have got to change that." She stated shaking her head.
We finish off our Fro-Yo and Paige yawns, she must be exhausted after a day of training, I know I would be. "Tired?" I ask her pulling on my seatbelt preparing to drive again. She nods, "The first week back is always the hardest. Just getting back into the swing of things after downtime kinda shocks the body." She says beginning to drive. "Sorry for keeping you up." I say glancing at the time, it was almost 11PM. "Lily, you're not keeping me up, don't apologise. I want to be here..with you." She says and my stomach flips at the last two words.
I swallow my pride, "Paige, was this a date?" I ask, anxiety kicking in immediately at the thought of having misread this whole situation. She glances at me quickly before putting her eyes back on the road in front of us, "Would you want it to be a date?"
Yes.
"I-"
"I know you want to stay single and you're part of that club and have that bracelet on that I want to rip off so damn bad but I want to get to know you Lily, like really know you." Paige admits and for a moment I just stare at her in shock but also affection. It's dark now and its just the streetlights illuminating the car we're in, lighting up Paiges features in the most flattering way.
"Yes." I finally say.
"Yes?"
"Yes - I would want this to be a date." I breathed.
I watch a small smile appear on Paiges face and spread, "Really?" "Really, Paige. I want to get to know you too and I'm tired of making excuses when you catch me staring." I laugh and she laughs with me.
It takes no time at all for us to reach my apartment building, Paige pulls up outside and turns her car off.
"What about your club?" She questions turning to face me fully so her back is rested against the door. "What Kelsey doesn't know won't hurt her." I say mirroring Paiges position, my back also resting against the door. "Let's just get to know each other without anyone elses opinions for a bit?" I offer. "Sounds good to me." Paige says reaching for my hand across the console. She breaks the touch barrier and I could've sworn I felt sparks. Her fingers intertwine with mine and she fiddles with the ring on my index finger.
"So is the reason you transferred really a secret or can you tell me?" She asks looking up at me from our connected hands, her eyes looking straight into mine.
"Secret is probably the wrong word but it's... a long and complicated story." I say truthfully. "I've got time." She says back to me and I can tell by the look on her face she wants to know and I want to tell her, just not now. "You're tired." I say placing my free hand over ours still locked together. "Another time, I promise." "OK." She agrees, "I'll walk you to your apartment."
We exit the car and my hand immediately feels lonely without Paiges in it.
Paige leans up against the front of her car and pulls me to stand in front of her, "I had fun tonight." She tells me, one hand in mine, the other on my waist. "Me too." I blush at her hand placement as my waist burns at her touch. She leans down and plants a kiss on my cheek, "We'll have to do it again sometime." She says in jest. "I'll have to check my calendar." I quip back. "You'll be free for me." She smiles and we walk into my apartment building.
Paige walks me to my front door, "For what it's worth, whatever your reason for transferring, I'm glad you did." She says. "I'm glad I did too." I add pulling my key from my bag. "Goodnight, Lily." She says pulling me into a hug before I open the door.
"Paige." I call her back as she begins to walk away and she turns back to me I take a few steps towards her and have to stand on my tiptoes to reach her cheek before pressing my lips to it, "Goodnight." I say and walk into my apartment with the biggest grin on my face.
No-ones in the living room and I'm thankful I don't have to explain where I've been or what I've done.
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .
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Fall is here!! Time to get cozy 🍁🍂 what would it be like for Hugh and younger gf (30s-55) as they get ready for fall season? Like probably them starting to live under the same roof all cute and cozy
seasons changing (one-shot)
summary: hugh and reader get ready for fall in new york. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: fluff, implied age gap (reader is in their 30s, hugh is 56), hugh is very touchy 😉, reader has some description (outfit and hair), no use of y/n. word count: 698 a/n: i know this is so long overdue and i'm sorry for not getting to this until now! i hope you enjoy it!!! i had a blast writing this (makes me wish i spent my time getting ready for fall with hugh). this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.
Fall has always been your favorite season. The crisp, cool air. The leaves changing color. When the seasons change from summer to fall, it always brings a sense of excitement that the holidays are fast approaching.
And this year is different. Has been different. It’ll be the first time you’re spending it with Hugh in New York since he’s asked you to move in. Part of you still can’t believe this is real, but he tells you just how much he loves it when you decorate the place and how much you make it feel so much more cozy, so much more homey.
Hugh hates being away from you, but his schedule has been so busy even after Deadpool & Wolverine. He knows that you don’t mind, knows that you understand, but he can’t help but feel guilty for being away from you so frequently.
So when he finally does get a chance to come home, Hugh’s surprised at the sight of his home that he now shares with you. The moment he steps inside, there’s a sudden sense of warmth that he feels in the pit of his stomach. You’re sitting at the dining table, legs crossed on the chair as you look out the window. He smiles to himself, the entire city scape blanketed by cloudy skies. The trees he can see from afar with leaves the color of orange and it just feels like fall. He can even smell the candle that you lit up, wafting through his entire home.
Music is quietly playing as you continue to write in your notebook, a cup of coffee nearby. He loves seeing you so comfortable in his home; it surprised him in the beginning how easily you fit into his life, how he now can’t even think of his home without you there.
It’s like you’ve always belonged there. With him.
“Hey, baby,” he calls out, setting his duffle bag on the couch as he walks in your direction.
When your eyes meet his, there’s a surprise grin on your face. Without hesitation, he watches you get up from your chair and run over to you, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re back early.”
“Wanted to surprise you,” Hugh smiles, his own arms snaking around your frame.
“Consider me surprised,” you bury your face against his chest, letting out a contented sigh. “Missed you.”
“Missed you too, baby. It feels very cozy in here. I see that you’ve decorated…” Hugh smiles, pulling away to look around the living room and shared kitchen space.
“Yeah, I couldn’t wait.”
Hugh walks over to his speaker and raises the volume, the song playing loudly throughout his home. He looks at you and smiles, gently reaching out for your hand.
“I love it,” he whispers, pulling you into his arms as his hands move along your sides. “I love when you decorate.”
“Really?” You ask, biting your lower lip as your hands move to rest on his shoulders, gently squeezing. You can hear him let out a contented groan as you slowly continue to massage the tight knots away.
“Yeah,” Hugh answers, leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “You’re making this your home too and I love it. Love you.”
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you stare up at him, biting the inside of your cheek. “It’s not too much?”
“Never too much.” He leans down and moves his lips along the side of your neck, hands grazing your backside and squeezing gently. “Smells like fall in here.”
You gasp quietly, eyes falling shut. “Well, that was the goal.” You let out a whimper when you feel his teeth graze a hot spot on your neck and you reach around to grip the shirt he’s wearing. “There’s still more to decorate…”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it, baby.” He smiles, bending his legs only slightly to lift you into his arms, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist. “But let’s hold off on the decoration because I really did miss you, baby.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“How about I show you instead?” Hugh grins, leading you up the stairs and into the bedroom.
#hugh jackman#hugh jackman requests#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman fanfiction#hugh jackman fanfic#real person fiction#real person fanfic#real person fanfiction#rpf#hugh jackman x fem!reader#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x f!reader#hugh jackman x female reader#story: seasons changing#hugh jackman oneshot
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My interpretation of them at a party partie 2
Part 1
#my art#bnha#mha#katsuki bakugou#eijirou kirishima#Deku#izuku midoriya#ochako uraraka#hitoshi shinsou#mina ashido#hanta sero#tenya iida#momo yaoyozoru#kyoka jirou#I'm tagging everyone that was mentioned even of I didn't draw them btw#Anyways imma go to bed#I'll prob make more it's fun to draw people drunk#You can get away with eyes not looking in the same direction.
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Okay I’m currently furious that migraines are often so blindly easy to treat and I had to find this out myself at the age of 26 when I’ve been to a neurologist since I was 11 lol so I’m about to teach you two neat and fast little tricks to deal with pain!
The first is the sternocleidomastoid muscle, or the SCM muscle.
This big red section is responsible for pain around the eye, cheekbone, and jaw, as well as some temple pain. Literally all you have to do is angle your head down a little, angle it away from the side that hurts, and then you can gently pinch and rub that muscle. I find it best to start at the bottom and travel upwards. The relief is so immediate! You can increase pressure as you feel comfortable doing so.
Here is a short and easy video showing this in action
The second is a fast and easy stretch that soothes your vagus nerve, which is the nerve responsible for calming you down. The vagus nerve, for those unfamiliar, is stimulated by deep breathing such as yawning, sighing, singing, or taking a deep breath to calm your anger in a tense situation.
You can stretch this out by sitting up as straight as possible (this does not have to be perfect to work) and interlacing your fingers. Put your hands on the back of your head with your thumbs going down the sides of your neck and, while keeping your face forward, look all the way to one side with just your eyes. Hold that until you feel the urge to breathe deeply or yawn, or until you can tell there’s a change. Then do the same thing on the other side. When you put your arms down, you should clearly be able to turn your head farther in both directions. If the first session doesn’t get rid of your migraine, rest and repeat as many times as necessary. I even get a little fancy with it and roll my eyes up and down along the outer edge sometimes to stretch as much as I can.
If you need a visual here’s a good video on it. I know some of the language they use seems questionable but this is real and simple science and should not be discarded because it’s been adopted by the trendy wellness crowd!
I seriously cannot believe I didn’t hear a word of this from any doctor in my life. Additionally, if you get frequent recurring migraines, you may want to see a dietician. Migraines can be caused by foods containing histamines, lectin, etc. and can also be caused by high blood pressure in specific situations such as exercise, stress, and even sex.
If any of this information helps you I’d love to hear it btw! It’s so so fast and easy to do. Good luck!
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Ahhhh I loved your reader hybrid works, literal chefs kiss 😩🤌 can you pls pls pls do a bunny! Reader x Suguru and Satoru
You can’t!
Synopsis: Poor Bunnygirl and puppyboySatoru are experiencing the worst heats ever, good thing their owner Suguru is there to take care of them.
Notes: Hi I decided to bring in our Puppy!BoySatoru if you don’t like it just let me know and I’ll revise this entire thing for you!!
Pairings: Puppy!HybridSatoru x Bunny!GirlReader x Suguru
Warnings: Hybrid!Reader + smut + humping + Hybrid!Satoru + drooling + licking + penetration + lots of cum very nasty + Suguru is a good owner + collars
Suguru is exhausted when he read online that getting a hybrid would take a lot of work they weren’t lying especially Bunnygirls and Puppy!Boys.
He thought he would be ready and prepared, it should be a walk in the park! Of course bumps and falls would occur but with someone as patient as Suguru everything will turn out fine.
A year in everything was so fucking perfect, You and Satoru listened so well he really lucked out with the two of you. Most people would complain on online forums that handling was the hardest thing.
The issues started arising when you and Satoru started getting needy, you were kinda independent before but now you both are always on or under Suguru, you both felt the need to always have your hands on him, roaming his body and even touching each other. More issues started to come when it felt like you and him were so feverish and always sore.
A quick google search brought Suguru to the page of hybrid heats. It happens often and can be unpredictable, it’s slapped in his face and he isn’t sure what to do
“Please-Suguru hurts so bad..”
He surely wasn’t expecting to walk into the scene he’s seeing right now, Satoru laid on his back with you atop him, tears are brimming in both your lashes it looks like you two have been crying and whining for the longest time.
You’re in nothing but panties and a thin tank top with him sporting just his underwear. Satoru’s cock is fully hard pressed agains’t your cunt so snugly and he’s already made a mess: his cum seeping through.
It looks like this is what you two have been doing for all this time, just grinding against each other. He feels terrible, he hadn’t taken the time to fully explain what would be happening to your bodies.
He makes his way over to his dumb pets and you both follow so obediently, leaving each others arms to fully envelope in his. Satoru starts licking and sucking on his neck, he isn’t shy to rub his cock so blatantly, smearing his thick load even more.
He needs to teach his hybrids how to pleasure themselves whilst he isn’t here, he stops Satoru from his suckling. He gently has you lay down admiring just how cute you look, your ears are standing at full attention but your hazy eyes aren’t all there.
He pulls off your sticky panties, a clear line of your cum visible when they’re discarded.
He’s met with an even messier sight when admiring your pussy, your folds are glistening as well as his fingers when he teases your little clit.
Suguru positions Satoru in front of your spread legs, he isn’t sure what to do with himself besides following Suguru’s every direction.
Suguru dips his fingers in your cunt again, guiding them to Satoru’s mouth he has him suck them clean.
Satoru absolutely loves the taste of you, he groans so lewdly as he’s lapping up what’s left of your essence.
When he finishes that up Suguru grabs Satoru’s leaky cock with a rough grip and taps it a few times on your soddened clit, this elicits a few moans out of the both of you. It feels so good already, and yet Suguru can’t wait to show you both just how good cumming feels.
He guides Satoru’s hips pushing his sensitive pink tip past your tight entrance.
“Ahh..ngh…”
The whimpering starts, poor puppy Satoru’s brain can’t comprehend this feeling, he knows the pleasure part of his brain is needing more but his body wants to pull away at the same time, he’s scared at how wet and hot it feels. He isn’t telling Suguru to stop so he continues.
His bunny isn’t fairing any better, you’re gripping the pillows for dear life as a fat cock, something foreign pushes inside of you for the first time.
Suguru sets a slow nice pace, hands still on Satoru’s hips guiding him inside of your wet cavern and out again and again. He’s doing all the work but he doesn’t mind one bit.
Suguru pauses working Gojo into you and lets him feel you, for real this time. Your walls are twitching and clamping down on him so hard.
He slides down into the crook of your neck and cries right there, it’s such a sad sight but so arousing at the same time.
“Cmon Toru, gotta make bunny feel good too.”
Satoru listens and begins licking your sensitive neck, he knows that’s a weak spot of yours, always triggering it when he’s roughhousing with you. His hips begin speeding up, the wet sounds of your cum mixing together and being slammed against one another is loud and bounces off the walls.
You cry out loud letting Suguru know that you feel weird, your tummy feels weird and it’s hurting. He reassures you and says to just let it go.
Suguru teases and grabs Satoru’s balls, head diving into his first load of the afternoon, it’s a good bit of cum he produces, Suguru is going to spend a good hour cleaning the both of you up!
#zsworks#fem reader#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo smut#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x female reader#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x hybrid reader#jjk geto#jjk gojo#jjk smut#hybrid gojo#hybrid reader x hybrid gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu gojo#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#hybrid gojo x reader#hybrid reader#bunny!reader#puppyboy!gojo#puppy!satoru
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CAN YOU PLEASE, PLEASE ON MY KNEES WRITE ABOUT BITCHY!READER X RAFE AND IT'S SMUT?? I FEEL LIKE YOU'LL DO IT JUSTICE!!! thank you
you literally read my mind because i was just thinking of this prompt that works so well with bitchy!reader!! hope you'll enjoy <3 (if it’s bad, look away!!)
WHATEVER SHE WANTS | Rafe Cameron
MASTERLIST (Blurb) | x Bitchy!Kook!Female Reader
Content — 18+, power/dominance play, p in v, doggy style, orgasm denial, and dirty talks
Word Count — 2.2K
lıllılı Whatever She Wants by Bryson Tiller
You always wanted Rafe.
It's your right. Since you were a child, you demanded the best in everything—toys, clothes, boyfriends. They had to be perfect. Had to be yours. And yes, it may come off a little superficial but who cares? It's what you deserve, and it'll be hell if you don't get it.
Since the first look, when you caught Rafe lounging on a chair with his friends, tipping the rim of his beer onto his lips, while his eyes scanned over the room in an attractive lazy way, you knew you had to have him. It didn't help that you were competitive, and Rafe garnered attention with women. They flocked to him and begged for a minute of his time. It became a game to you, and that heightened your need.
Everything was calculated. The makeup you wore, the outfits you curated, the glances. You always timed your arrivals—when you knew Rafe would be watching the door—and marked your exits. You knew exactly what to wear—dresses that tantalizing exposes your ass, but only as a preview—and the cosmetic style he liked. Rafe's the type of man who believes he wants a bare-faced woman, but truly, he wants something natural that enhances your features.
You came with friends. You left alone. You drank enough to loosen your nerves and danced with the crowd, but not enough to make a fool of yourself. You knew your tolerance and knew Rafe didn't like a messy girl.
At least, in public.
You caught his gaze a couple of times, flashing a flirtatious smile over your shoulders, but never lingered longer than three seconds. Rafe can't know how easy he can have you, because Rafe, like most boys, loves a chase. You're not easy, you're spoiled. He had to come to you.
And he did.
Rafe tried to introduce himself on several occasions. On those nights when you're leaving early—as planned—Rafe would cut to the door to pay a parting remark. "You're leaving so soon?" he would ask, "Alone? Again?" He would add. You always told him it was because no one caught your eye, and Rafe took that as a personal challenge. He would then try to tell you his name, as if he were different, to which you nod—detached—as if it didn't matter.
It drove him insane.
Because you didn't offer the same courtesy. You kept him guessing. He had to finally ask around to learn your name, which he would use to tease you the next time he saw you. And he did. And you laughed. But you acted like you didn't care. Like all the trouble he went through didn't prove a thing. That's when Rafe knew he needed you.
Tonight's no different. Just as you're about to leave, Rafe catches you with another smooth pick-up line. You just giggle. He studies how your eyes crinkle with amusement, the curve of your lips painted in his favorite shade of lipstick, and the lithe tilt of your head to the side as you ask him with your gaze, is that the best you got?
It isn't. But Rafe's determined to get further with you tonight. He continues to talk, asking about which men disappointed you and the reasons for your constant disappearances from these parties. And, for once, you're answering his questions with little resistance. Perhaps, it's because of the amount of cheap wines you consumed, or maybe you—for once—are tired of the games and want it to come to a fruitful end. Because when Rafe finally asks to take you home, you don't say no.
The walk to his truck is brisk. His arm wrapped around your waist, directing your path, while his fingers trail over the backless cut of your dress, producing a buzzing feeling beneath your skin. He's whispering something in your ear, but all of it is incomprehensible as you revel in the feeling of his touch and his touch alone. The feeling of your game coming to a conclusion.
And, just as you're about to reach the car, Rafe slams you into the side of the vehicle with a searing kiss.
His mouth catches yours and everything feels perfect. As if the buildup leading to this precise moment had been worth it, and every needy emotion rises to the top. His hand travels down the length of your body, to your hips, pulling you closer, and needing to eliminate all the space and wait you made him do.
Rafe's movements are swift and controlled. One of his hands props open the backdoor of his car, pushing you inside, and laying you against his leather seats. All without breaking the kiss.
"You don't know how long I wanted this, wanted you," Rafe blubbers between wet kisses. "Seeing you at every party, in these tiny dresses, not being able to touch," he rasps, bundling the hem of your dress into a tight fist. "Tell me you wear them for me."
"And if I did?" You say with a moan, tipping your head back to grant him access to your neck. "Did you like them?"
"Of course I did," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, the vibration of his words sending heat straight to your core. "You dressing up for me like my own perfect doll."
You want to retort that it's him who's in the palm of your hand, but Rafe sucks on a sensitive spot, causing your eyes to roll back and a whimper to escape your lips instead. He grabs your wrists with one hand, throwing them over his shoulder as he pulls you flush against his chest.
"So pretty, so fucking untouchable," Rafe kisses down the length of your throat, his fingers collecting the spaghetti straps of your dress before sliding it down the slope of your shoulders. "I'm going to fuck you so good."
His words snap you out of your haze. And while Rafe continues to expose more of your body, lamenting each reveal of flesh with a kiss, you withdraw enough to grab his attention.
"You're not fucking me in a car."
"What?" Rafe breaths, unable to snap out of the trace you had him in. Delirious with want, his mind warped around the idea of you being so close to attainable, that all rational manners left his system. He tries to kiss you again, to resume the moment, but you pull enough to send him a deadly glare, pouty and spoiled.
"Rafe, take me somewhere nice or we're not fucking at all."
He can't believe what he's hearing. He can't believe he's contemplating it. But Rafe doesn't understand that you have it all planned out to result in a perfect moment. You won't let it be disrupted just because Rafe can't drive the extra mile to take you somewhere nice. You'd rather leave him with blue balls.
"Are you serious?" He asks slowly, his eyes drawn to your swollen lips, the little pout, and the desperation to have them back on his. Sure, Rafe's had girls who wanted something more than a casual fling. He had them ask him for a better spot, but he never obliged. He never cared. But you're different. He wants you, and it's been a hell of a chase to get you here. He'll be damned if he lets it slip away because of a pretentious standard.
"Does it look like I'm joking?" You cross your arms over your chest, pushing your breasts further up. He nearly groans at the sight. "We're not having sex here."
"The nearest place has to be at least a fifteen-minute drive," Rafe argues. And it makes you upset, brows pinched together. "We can just—"
"I don't care," you snap. "Take me somewhere nice or I'm leaving."
You're serious. He sees it on your face. Rafe can't risk that, despite wanting to protest, because he knows he if he messes this up, he won't have another chance. Swearing under his breath, he drags himself out of the backseat and into the driver's side, pulling the car out of the parking lot.
Dangerously, Rafe speeds down the road, while you're sitting in the backseat with a self-satisfied demeanor, fixing your makeup through the rearview mirror. Occasionally, Rafe spares a glance through the same reflection, connecting with your gaze, and while there's subtle bitterness coiled in his chest, he recognizes the bigger prize at hand.
And what he can do with it.
Because, despite your bratty attitude, Rafe is a person who wants control. You want perfection. You two can have both.
That's how you find yourself in a newly-booked penthouse suite at one of the bougie hotels in Kildare, your head digging into the soft comforter of the bed, your ass in the air, as Rafe drills into you from behind.
When you reached the room, everything moved frantically. Rafe slammed you against the nearest wall to kiss you again—needing your lips, needing your taste—while his hands roamed over your dress and pulled down your cleavage, revealing your tits. Your hands wandered down his pants, unbuttoning them hurriedly, needily, and he assisted you by pulling them off alongside his boxers. His cock was big, slightly red with a pearly bead of pre-cum that rolls off the tip. And you could tell by the look on Rafe's face that he wanted you to suck it.
But you told him, "I don't do blowjobs."
So fucking pretentious.
It didn't matter. He hauled you over to the king-sized bed and pushed you onto the mattress. You landed with a soft thump, while Rafe hauled you up to your ass, pushing up your dress, until it became nothing but a bundle around your waist. His movements were urgent, and he wanted—no, needed—to be inside you because a bratty girl was going to be a great fuck.
And he was right.
You're perfect. The way you wrap around him, the way he sinks inside you. He doesn't know if it's because of the delirium of wanting you so desperately, of chasing you for so long—but he never had better pussy. And it doesn't help that your moans are sweet, breathy, and loud—begging him to go faster.
"Such a pretentious brat," Rafe grabs your throat, hauling you upwards till your spine rest on his chest, airway constricted by his harsh grip. "Making me wait this fucking long."
"R—Rafe," you mewl, eyes rolling to the back of your skull at the way he's angling his cock deep into your cervix, bullying the sensitive spot over and over again until you're seeing stars.
"Had to get the princess treatment, did you?" He murmurs hotly into your ear, nibbling a spot on your neck as you rest the back of your head on his shoulder. His thrusts grow more erratic. "Had to make me earn you, didn't you?"
"You weren't going to fuck me in a car," you persist, and despite how cockdrunk you became, and how much of an attitude you're willing to sacrifice to feel good, you were still adamant about receiving what you deemed enough. He respected that. "I'm not one of your whores."
"But I'm fucking you like my own personal slut. Is that any better?" He bites the lobe of your ear, and his other hand wanders up to grab a handful of your breast, squeezing the fat before rolling your perked nipple between his fingers. You moan louder. "What does that make you?"
You can't seem to answer him, can't seem to find your senses. The words Rafe uses are vulgar, but there’s still no regrets about this entire thing. Rafe wanted you so badly, that he was willing to spend hundreds of dollars on a hotel he probably won't even stay the night in. All because you demanded it.
You win.
"Shut up," you stammer, your stomach tightening. "Shut up and just fuck me, Rafe."
Rafe grins. The hand playing with your tits slips between your thighs to assist, finding your clit easily as he rubs it with his thumb in sync with his thrusts. Breathy moans escape you as you arch into his palm, while he pistons deeper inside of you, bottoming out.
"You sound so pretty, doll," Rafe murmurs against your heated skin, "Come on, take my fucking cock."
Everything’s so dirty. The way he handles you, the way your wetness drips down your thighs, the way his words breathe onto your skin and tighten your core. But you love it. You do, but you're not willing to give in so easily. No matter how good it feels. No matter how much he feels like a prize.
"You don't deserve me." You whisper with a mewl, body tightening with the familiar wave of your undoing.
Yet, Rafe merely grins.
"But you're sucking in my cock like you need me," Rafe taunts, pleasure coursing through his body at the way your walls grip him in a vice. The way your words spark challenge and invitation. He knows, despite your spoiled attitude and pretentious demands, he'll do anything to get another chance like this. "Now, behave like a good girl or you're not coming tonight."
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tagging @starkeysprincess bc she saw it first <3
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe imagine#rafe smut#rafe fic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron smut#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#obx#rafe cameron x female reader#outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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Shameless
Tags: dad!Toji x fem!reader, modern!au, nsfw, mdni, breeding kink, he calls himself daddy
Synopsis: You’re Toji’s live-in nanny. He wants to breed you, and he successfully does so.
An: This is my story on ao3!! You can read it here. If you’re feeling extra nice, a kudos would be cool too.
Being a single dad was hard. Toji learned quickly after his wife's death that he in fact couldn't do this alone. The way little Megumi's big eyes looked up to him for direction... him of all people. He was not cut out for this. Megumi's mom was a wonderful mother: sweet, nurturing, and patient. Toji really didn't know if he was any of those things.
Luckily, her life insurance provided Toji with a relatively comfortable life combined with his job in construction of course. Construction might be his vice. He got away from home for 12 hours a day, and he worked so hard that his brain was mush by the time he was home. Not that he didn't love his son, he did, but every time he looked at Megumi he saw his sweet late wife. He also saw his short comings as a father.
Babysitters quit on him regularly. It was always the same excuse. "Megumi's an angel, but I can't be here 7 days a week. I have a life too." It was incredibly annoying. They'd stay for Megumi but left due to another one of his shortcomings.
Another one quit. That would be the third one this month. "Listen Mr. Fushiguro, I know a friend. She does this sort of thing on a different level. Have you ever considered having a live-in nanny?"
That stupid girl's question enlightened Toji. He had completely forgotten that live-in nannies still existed. After getting her friend's number and paying her what he owed her for her time, Toji relaxed on the couch with little Megumi tucked into his side. The three-year-old was happily babbling next to him, enamored by Toji's phone that was in his hand.
Toji looked at the number dialed into his phone, and he sighed. He was tired of making cold calls to potential babysitters like he was some desperate whore, but maybe, maybe this would be different. He wouldn't mind having a live-in nanny. His house wouldn't mind it either. Toji would be able to finally breathe. No more coming home from 12 hour shifts to pop something to eat in the microwave and wash the dishes. He wouldn't even have to see this so-called nanny often. He could pick up more hours at work with all of his new freedom of not having to worry about pissing off the babysitter.
*** *** ***
Either way, that's how you ended up in Toji's house. For the past three months you had taken care of Megumi, cleaned and deep cleaned his entire house, cooked him plenty of dinners from scratch, and even did his laundry the exact way he preferred. His house has never looked better, and Megumi had never looked so happy.
Despite being here for three months, you barely saw Toji. He seemed to avoid you like the plague and only answer with one-worded answers, which was fine. This was your job, not your actual family. There was no need for extensive communications. Though, you had gushed to your friend plenty over text about how hot "Mr. Fushiguro" was. He was conventionally attractive, yes. But you also always had a thing for the brooding types, and dammit, Toji was brooding. There was also something to be said about how he came home in the evenings. A black wifebeater clinging to his skin from a long day of working out in the sun. His jeans would be dirty from the work he was doing. His skin glistening from a thin sheen of sweat. His hair was always a mess. Goddammit. It was enough to make you feel fertile.
It was early in the morning, Toji was getting ready to go to work. Megumi had woken up, crying for his papa not to leave him. He's going through an extra clingy phase. He's usually okay once Toji's gone.
"Papa!" Megumi cried as Toji entered the living room. You had Megumi in your lap, rocking him with a sleepy look on your face. His tears were wetting your shirt, but you didn't seem to mind.
"He'll be back tonight, Gumi." You shooshed him and continued to try to rock him and pat his back.
Toji's face was unreadable. He was never one to get all upset over Megumi's crying, but hearing his son cry out for him tugged on his heartstrings extra this morning. Then, there was you. You were a godsend to Toji's life. Getting a live-in nanny was one of the best decisions he had ever made. Above that, you were excellent with Megumi. You were sweet... nurturing... patient. He hated how seeing you with his son made him feel. It almost felt like maybe 2 kids wouldn't be that big of a deal. Maybe 3. One on each of your legs and another one swelling in your belly. God. He was disgusted in himself for thinking like that.
"I love you, kiddo." Toji said quickly as he leaned down, giving Megumi's forehead a quick peck. The toddler made grabby hands for him. It was almost enough to make him stay home. Almost. Toji's eyes met yours as he was still leaned over. His face was close to yours. The tension between them were palpable. The moment felt like eternity between them.
Then, a black credit card was in view. "I need new work gloves. Get the extra thick rubber ones, will ya? Also, get whatever you and the kid want. I'll be back late tonight." He handed you the card and sauntered out of the house despite Megumi's pleas for him to stay. You looked at the Amex black card and blinked a couple of times. Only the top earners in the world had cards like this. Toji was just an average blue collar dad... It made you wonder how he got a card like this.
You still spent that shit though.
*** *** ***
Toji looked at his phone on the jobsite. No one dared to tell him to put it away. Toji was the best most competent worker out on the field. He could work circles around supervisors and project managers alike, and he was damn smart. He didn't need a pencil and paper or a calculator to make quick conversions in his head. So, most people stayed out of his way.
He smirked and chuckled at the notifications rolling in from his bank. 78.97 at Target. 21.25 at McDonald's. 43.52 at Barnes and Noble. 9.24 at Starbucks. He was happy you and Megumi were getting to have a little shopping spree.
You were also great at keeping him updated. You sent him lots of pictures and videos of Megumi. He cherished each one of them, immediately getting some of them printed and hung up in his house. There was even a picture of you and Megumi proudly displayed in the living room. In his mind, you were an integral part of the family. The "family" simply would not function if it weren't for you.
A fond smile spread across his face as he opened his messages. A picture of Megumi's little hands trying to fit into his new gloves that she had bought him. Great. She got the right ones. "I think he wants to be just like daddy :)", the message read.
Oh.
Oh.
The twitch that just occurred in his pants should be punishable in a court of law. In no way should he have gotten turned on by that. You were just being nice. It was a normal thing for people to refer to him as "daddy" in that context. It never affected him in the way it was right now.
So anyways, that's how he ended up in the port-a-potty busting a load all over a picture of you that he had on his phone. After the shock of his orgasm that came quicker than ever, he looked down, disappointed in himself. He wasn't some horny teenage boy anymore. This was just downright deplorable. Begrudgingly, he wiped his phone clean from his sins. Post-nut clarity swirled his brain. He couldn't believe he just did that.
He called your number. He had to make things right.
"Hello? Is everything okay?" You immediately asked. After living with Toji for some time now, you learned that he doesn't just call people. He will absolutely decline a call to just text and ask what's up.
"Everything is fine." He replied, trying to hide his amusement. It was cute that you seemed so worried for him. "Are you still in town?"
"Yeah, Megumi and I are about to leave Starbucks and head home. Why? What's up?" You responded back to him. He could hear Megumi happily singing a song in the background.
"You know you spent 152 dollars today?" Toji asked as he popped his back up against the port-a-potty door. He had a lazy smirk on his face.
"Oh- crap. I'm sorry. You can take whatever you see fit out of my pay-" He interrupted your nonsense quickly.
"Do you think I'm poor?" His voice was amused, not angry like you expected it to be.
"What-? No.. no, sir. I was just-"
"I told you to get whatever you and the kid want. Don't come back home until your certain that you can't carry the amount of stuff you bought in one trip." He said quickly. His stomach was already coiling from how you called him sir. He grimaced as he felt another twitch. I just took care of you dammit.
"Oh... oh, okay? Are you su-" Click. He hung up on you. One too many dumb questions. You looked at Megumi as he strapped into the backseat of your car. He looked intrigued by the conversation even though you knew he realistically had no idea what was just said. "Daddy said we have to go to the toy store." You grinned at him. He was smiling and clapping over the word "toy".
234.22 at Toys-R-Us. 122.56 at Lego. 208.38 at Aerie. 88.21 at Ulta Beauty. Another 94.48 at Barnes and Noble.
The way Toji grinned each time he felt that familiar vibration of his phone go off, meaning another notification from his bank was off-putting. Workers on the jobsite never seen him so happy. It was his penance for being such a horny freaky fuck.
*** *** ***
It was later that same evening. Megumi was in the living room surrounded by toys and crafting materials. He was currently drawing all sorts of "shadow animals" as he called them. You would of course look and nod your head, congratulating him on each terribly drawn animal. You acted like that was the best damn wolf-bear-owl hybrid you ever saw.
You were in the kitchen cooking chicken and dumplings. The clock on the stove read seven p.m. You didn't expect to see Toji at all this evening. He said he was working late this morning. Usually, that meant he was dragging his feet in through the door until well past ten p.m.
Still, you made him a serving of chicken and dumpling soup. You always did. Even when he worked late, you would put him a helping of dinner in the microwave to keep warm. You never knew, but he was always delighted by that. He ate the dinners each time.
A key jingling in the door handle caught your attention while you were getting Megumi settled at the dining room table. Three-year-olds were so hard to manage: too small to eat by themselves but too big to be locked in a high chair.
Toji stepped into the living room with a small grunt. He smirked as he looked around at his destroyed living room. Toys, crayons, and pieces of "artwork" were strewn all about the place. He glanced up towards you and Megumi in the kitchen. He took note of how your face was flushed and surprised.
"Papa!" Megumi happily shouted before the little bastard ran from your grasp to go hug on Toji's legs. His dad smiled as he looked down at Megumi, and he used his hand to mess up Megumi's hair affectionately.
"Go eat your food, kiddo." Toji said warmly to his son. Megumi happily obliged and ran right back to his seat right next to you, and you fed him a spoonful of the soup.
"You're home early." You stated the obvious.
Toji would never tell you, but he left early because he missed you two.
"Don't sound too happy to see me." He remarked in a sarcastic tone.
"What-? No, I just.. would've cleaned up more had I known you would be home so soon..." You responded. Megumi was sitting beside you whining for another bite of food. You snapped out of your surprise, and you fed him another bite of chicken and dumplings.
"Why? I don't give a damn what this place looks like." Toji said with a small nonchalant shrug. He walked through the living room, carefully stepping over the toys. Before you had become his nanny, this was how his house normally looked: messy, lived in. "I've got a bowl of dinner in the microwave. My kid's happy and fed. I couldn't care less what that living room looks like."
Your heart fluttered at the sentiment. Toji was easy to please. He really just wanted what was best for his kid, and that was you. "I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." You replied. He looked at you with an unreadable expression. It looked like he might've wanted to say something, but he had backed out last minute. He hummed and walked towards his bedroom to shower the dirt, sweat, and grime from the day.
While Toji showered, you had finished feeding Megumi and yourself. You allowed Megumi to have about an hour of TV time before bed. He really enjoyed old X-Men cartoons. You turned them on for him and parked him on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket.
You hummed softly as you worked in the kitchen. You packed meal prep containers of soup for Toji to take for lunch for the next couple of days. Then, you were washing dishes in front of the sink.
*** *** ***
"I like making sure you have nothing to worry about." Your words repeated in Toji's head over and over like a mantra. He hadn't felt so... cared for in a long, long time. It made his heart feel full, which was an unfamiliar feeling for him. A less unfamiliar feeling was his dick standing fully erect and at attention. He groaned quietly as he leaned his head back in the shower.
Something had to be in the air recently. He was a grown man with desires, sure. But this was a new record for him. Ever since you started being a live-in nanny for him, the boners were a daily thing. Hell, twice or three times a day sometimes. He's tried everything... Well, okay, maybe not everything, but he's tried cold showers and staying away from you. Neither of those things work to soothe him.
His hand was gliding up and down his length for the second time today. He was facing the shower wall with his arm propped up on it, supporting his head. Damn you for making him feel like a slave to his desires. You wanted to make sure he had nothing to worry about? Then, you should be the one in here fixing this damn mess, not him. He pitifully rutted into his hand, imaging he's plunging deep into you. Imagining the multiple ways he'd fuck the hell out of you is the only thing that soothes the ache, but this time he didn't see an end in sight.
He gritted his teeth together, and he balled up his fist, rearing back before stopping himself. He's not a teenager anymore. He can't punch walls. He took a deep breath and turned the shower off. No, this won't do. He needs to fix this at the source.
After quickly drying off and getting dressed, he walked back into the kitchen. His eyes scanned over the house. Megumi was enthralled by the TV, and you were washing dishes. Perfect.
He slowly approached you from behind. He could tell you didn't hear him as you were still softly humming. Usually, you would stop humming if he entered the kitchen. He never understood why. The sounds of your melancholic hums were beautiful and soothing to him.
He was directly behind you, and his hands gently cupped your hips. You immediately flinched and made a soft scream that was quickly silenced by one of his hands. "Shh, we don't want to disturb the little brat, do we?" Toji said into your ear. His warm breath ghosted over the shell of your ear, making you shiver.
Toji's eyes flicked over towards the living room. Megumi hadn't moved an inch. Perfect.
Toji slowly released your mouth. To his delight, you didn't make a sound. He could hear how your breath was slightly labored from him scaring you. A small chuckle rose from his throat. His hands went back to your hips, and he pressed himself against your voluptuous ass. A hum of approval escaped him. He could see your hands gripping the countertops.
"Nod your head. You like this? Want me to keep pressing myself against you?" Toji whispered into your ear. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, and you nodded your head eagerly, giving him consent.
"Dirty fucking girl." His voice was like a growl in your ear as he started to move his hips, dragging his length up and down along you. You could feel each inch of his length beckoning for you. "I knew you'd take whatever I gave you, but this? Letting me grind against you like a pathetic teenager while my son is in the living room? You're such a fucking slut." His hands were digging into your hips as he continued his controlled motions.
"Mnn.. fuck.." You softly whimpered out. Thank god the X-Men were currently in a loud fight scene.
You slightly frowned as you suddenly didn't feel Toji behind you anymore. You were about to turn around and ask what he was doing, but his fingers curling into the waistband of your leggings told you everything you needed to know. "Toji-" You managed to whisper out. No way could you two do this while Megumi was in the next room over.
"Shut up." Toji interrupted you. He had taken his throbbing length out of his sleeping pants, and he had a look of concentration on his face as he angled himself right at your entrance. "You have no fucking idea how long I've needed this. So just be a good girl, shut up, and take what I give you."
Direct orders from your boss. Who were you to deny the man who just spoiled you all day today?
It was a tight fit. Toji wasn't a gentleman. He didn't prep you with his fingers or mouth. This wasn't love making. It was hardly fucking. This was fulfilling a need.
"God... fuck. I didn't expect you to be that tight." He growled into your neck as he held your hips still against him. It felt like he was splitting you apart. You couldn't even respond to him.
He noticed how tightly you were gripping the counter and how you weren't responding to him. Your knuckles were turning white. He almost felt guilty. His hand came around the front of you, and he gently rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves. "Shhh... You can take it. I know you can." He whispered into your ear as it was taking every last shred of self-restraint not to fuck you into oblivion right on this counter. He slowly pulled back until just his tip was inside, and he pushed all the way back in. "That's it. There's my good girl." He praised in your ear. It was not lost on him that he felt you get wetter with each praise.
He hesitated, but he said it anyway, "You wanna be a good girl for daddy, don't you?" He whispered into your ear. That phrase made you tremble in his arms and nod your head. He slowly pulled back out and pushed right back in, taking you slowly. "That's right... hngh, fuck." He moaned into your ear. "You want to be fucked by daddy. You want to take his cock like a good girl. Take it." His hips started to move with more conviction.
You were already so out of it. This was like a dirty fantasy come true. You couldn't help but check the TV a few times to make sure X-Men was still playing. You were still worried that Megumi might run in here for whatever reason and see you bent over in front of his dad. You knew it was unlikely. Megumi could watch that TV like a zombie all day if you let him. Besides, you would be able to hear the small pitter-patter of his footsteps.
"Stop looking at the fucking TV. Trust me." Toji growled into your ear as he forced your hips down onto him roughly. A noiseless gasp escaped you. He wasn't small, and he knew that. He was using it to his advantage.
"Fuck." He groaned quietly as he rubbed you with a bit more fervor. You could already feel that familiar warm feeling coiling in your stomach. "I'm going to fuck a baby into you. You were fucking made for this. Made for raising my kids and taking my fucking load." He was spewing nonsense into your ear, but in the moment, you couldn't help but nod and moan. "You were made for me." He proclaimed as his hips continued harshly snapping into your backside. Somehow the sounds were masked.
"You want that, don't you?" He asked as he bit down on your neck then lapped at the bite mark with his tongue.
"Yes, daddy!" You quietly exclaimed. His thrusts only increased in power. Your eyes started to cross, getting lost in pleasure.
"Fuck. You're gonna look so perfect pregnant with my baby. I won't let you have a break. As soon as one comes out; I'm puttin' another one in you." He continued on yapping about how many kids he was going to pump into you. "I'll breed you again and again." His thrusts were heavy and brutal. You couldn't take it anymore.
He moaned as he felt you clenching around him, finishing all over his cock. It was enough to drive him overboard. He pumped you full of cum until you were sure some of it was seeping out.
There was a peaceful moment of dizzy highness for you two. Toji panted against your back. For the first time in while, he's felt satisfied. A soft amused laugh escaped him as he heard the iconic X-Men episode coming to an end. He swiftly pulled out of you, and he tried to ignore that little whimper of protest you let out. He tucked himself back into his pants, and he pulled your leggings and panties back up for you since you were still a trembling mess over the counter.
"Alright Kiddo, c'mon. Time for bed." Toji said as he sauntered off into the living room as if he didn't just rearrange your guts. He put Megumi to bed that night, and he cleaned up the living room for you, allowing for you to recover in his bed for round two. He was much more of a gentleman for round two.
*** *** ***
"Hey... I know I ain't been to see you in a while. I'm sorry." Toji said as he sat down on the grassy ground. "I was letting life pass me by for too damn long." He said as he took a wet washcloth and began to wash up his late wife's gravestone. "I'm doing better now, so don't worry about me."
"Megumi's growing like a weed. I'm sorry I didn't bring him to see you... I just don't know how to explain it to him." Toji's voice was full of guilt as he dragged the wet washcloth against the stone. "He's a good kid though. He looks just like you, damn bastard." He softly laughed, knowing his wife would've struck him over the side of the head for calling Megumi a damn bastard.
"Listen... I met a girl." He leaned his head over the gravestone. It had been close to three months since you and Toji started sleeping together. There wasn't a formal label to your relationship, but it didn't feel necessary. You two both knew you were sleeping exclusively with each other. "I think you'd like her, or maybe you wouldn't since she's fucking your husband. But either way... I-" He choked up a bit as he held onto the cold stone. "I feel so fucking guilty... I know you're not coming home anytime soon, but I just... I need your blessing. If you can somehow hear me, please... I never asked you for anything until I asked you to marry me. Now, I'm asking... please somehow show me you approve of this."
"She's good for me... She takes good care of Megumi. He's so damn attached to her somedays." Toji softly laughed as he remembered how a few nights ago Megumi crawled into bed with you and him because he had a nightmare. Instead of taking to Toji like he normally does, he crawled into your arms. Toji had never felt so damn proud and slighted at the same time.
"I should get going. Give me a sign though.. Something that tells me you approve." He finished his visit with his wife, and he went home.
*** *** ***
That night at dinner, Megumi sped into the kitchen with an action figure in his hand. He was pretending to be Batman. "Gumi, I've told you three times. Stop running." You said as you gave the small child a look. Toji smirked as he knew that look good and well. It was the look a mom gave as a warning. Megumi was on his last warning.
"I'm sorry, mama." Megumi apologized, causing for both you and Toji to freeze right in your tracks. Megumi had never called you mama before. He always said your name.
Your heart swelled in your chest. It was a feeling of affection and guilt. "Oh no... baby.." You said softly as you took his hand. You lead him into the living room, and you crouched down, showing him a picture of his mom to him. "That's mama." You gently corrected him.
Toji watched the scene like a hawk from the dinner table. His heart was pounding in his chest. He had never been shy about telling Megumi who his mom was, but he hadn't exactly been forthcoming about how his mom passed away when he was a small baby.
Megumi pointed at the picture. "Mama." He said quietly. You nodded and patted his head.
"That's right." You praised affectionately. He then turned his attention to you. and he poked your chest with his tiny finger.
"Mama." He said, pointing at you.
"No-"
"It's alright." Toji spoke up from his seat at the dinner table.
"I don't want him to be confused..." You replied as you slowly stood back up, looking at Toji.
"He doesn't sound confused to me." He retorted with a small grin. You turned your attention back to Megumi, and Toji looked up towards the ceiling. "Thank you." He muttered so quietly before kissing the necklace that hung around his neck. He had his wife's blessing. This proved it.
After finishing his dinner, Toji joined you two in the living room. You and Megumi were curled up on each side of his while watching that old X-Men cartoon. Suddenly, Megumi rose from the couch. You and Toji watched him with a hint of confusion.
"What is he doing?" You softly asked Toji as Megumi bent over, and he looked between his legs at both you and Toji.
"I have no fucking id-" He was about to respond, but then, it hit him. "Get up." He said as he stood up from the couch. He quickly grabbed his phone, keys, and wallet like a madman.
"What? What? Is something wrong?" You asked as you had never seen Toji move this fast. You quickly got up too.
"Nothing's wrong. Come on. We're going to the store." He grunted as he swooped Megumi into his arms.
You were confused and in denial when Toji bought a pregnancy test and made you take it. Now, both of you were waiting outside of the bathroom for the five minutes to be over. "This is crazy, Toji. I'm not pregnant."
"It's an old wives' tale. When babies do that, it's supposed to mean their looking for their sibling." Toji said with a nonchalant shrug as if what he said was matter-of-fact. "My mother told me that's how she knew she was pregnant with me."
The timer went off on his phone, and both of you fought to get into the bathroom first. He eventually overpowered you and snatched the pregnancy test off the counter quickly. "Oh." He said quietly. The room went still.
Suddenly, your heart was racing. "What is it? Is it negative?" You asked a hint of disappointment hit you. You didn't know why, but a small part of you hoped for it to be positive.
"Oh, you're fucking getting it tonight." Toji smirked as he turned the pregnancy test over. Two pink lines were clear as day on the test. You're pregnant.
Tags: @lemonlimecrystal-blog @theuniversesnepobaby
#jjk#jjk fanfic#fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#drabble#jjk suggestive#jjk smut#toji x you#toji smut#jjk toji#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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Feral McGee™
It starts with the Joker.
His goons picked up Tim Drake. Not specifically because it was Tim Drake, he just so happened to be in the Joker’s neighborhood, and we'll, he can't pass up that opportunity now can he?
Except Tim Drake is watching, along with the rest of Gotham, at the Batcomputer. He’s nursing a broken foot and has been put on monitor duty until he's cleared for field work again.
The guy looks enough like him, though. Black hair, blue eyes, and bags under his eyes for days. He's also got the same lean sort of build like he does.
It happens like this.
The Joker is doing his monologue thing where he explains whatever twisted game he's come up with this time. He takes up the majority of the screen, so nobody can see Not-Tim behind him, not until the big reveal. Then he covers the screen again, getting up close and personal, before stepping back. In those quick few seconds, Not-Tim is no longer sitting there tied to the chair.
Someone off camera lets the Joker know, and he whirls around, confused as the rest of Gotham.
And then Not-Tim comes in with the steel chair.
Or, well, a crowbar, but the reference holds up.
He takes out one of Joker’s knees before punching him in the face. The Joker drops like a bag of stones, out cold.
Then he looks towards the camera.
“Hey there. I'm not really sure where I am, but also if he was after Tim Drake, he got the wrong guy. I'm not him, I'm just some dude. Anyway, I'll just-yep-” he carefully steps over the unconscious Joker, gives the camera a little wave, and then leaves.
Batman and Nightwing enter shortly after, with the Joker and his goons out cold and tied up. The knots were complicated enough where, in the end, the police resorted to cutting the ties off of them so they could be properly cuffed and taken to Arkham.
“A constrictor knot,” Batman tells Nightwing as they watch the villain be taken away. “Often used by sailors to temporarily tie things together to keep something in a bag, or to hold something to glue it back together.”
“Huh,” Nightwing says, scratching the back of his head. “Go figure.”
—
The next time it happens, it’s the Riddler.
He’s laughing, giving his riddles to the Bats and recording himself to all of Gotham while his victim, one of the Wayne brats, hangs over a vat of something. From a distance, he looks like Tim Drake, or maybe a lankier Dick Grayson. And he’s not the only victim, they’re all scattered across the city, but he thought an important figure such as a Wayne should be under the Riddler’s direct supervision while he enacts his schemes.
While the Riddler cackles and plots and waves his cane around, in the background all of Gotham can see the figure escape. Several Gothamites recognize him as the kid from before, who clocked the Joker. They all watch with bated breath as he sort of wiggles his way out of the ropes holding him up. Once he’s free, he climbs the rope and gets himself down safely.
Gotham holds their breath as the kid casually walks up to the Riddler, who’s mid-rant. He politely taps him on the shoulder, and as the Riddler is turning around, the kid clocks him just as brutally as he had the Joker. He’s down with one punch.
They think he’s going to say another sort of awkward goodbye, but instead he pats the Riddler down until he finds a piece of paper tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“Right,” the kid says, looking at the list. There’s a lot more static overlay now, and several wonder if it’s damage to the cameras. “Uh, the Clocktower, the Docks, and-” he squints at the page for a moment-”Mama Nacaroni’s? What the fuck is that? Anyway, uh. See you later, I guess. Oh! And we’re at the Gotham Arena. Have fun with him, I guess.”
The kid tosses the paper off to the side before the camera cuts to black.
Just like last time, everyone is out cold and tied up. The Riddler himself is sporting a pretty bad shiner, but well deserved nonetheless.
“Stop it,” Red Hood tells him. Batman just looks at him, and though Hood can’t see the top half of his face, he can tell that his eyebrow is raised. “You know exactly what I mean, B. Put the adoption papers away.”
“Hn.”
—
After that, it sorta becomes a game. The rogues of Gotham are no longer after a Wayne, or after anybody who holds any kind of social status like usual. They’re all going after this one kid, all determined to be the one to hold him. And each one is televised.
Mr. Freeze freezes him in a block of ice, but due to the cameras glitching out, nobody can really see how he got free. They do, however, see the kid suplex Mr. Freeze. It should seem impossible, given his lanky figure, but he evidently has more muscle than he’s originally let on.
Two-Face gets a hold of him, using chains and some power-dampening cuffs just on the off-chance that he’s a meta. They all watch as the kid leans down, pulls a bobby pin out of his hair, and picks the locks on his cuffs. One punch, and Two-Face is down.
Gothamites are going wild for the kid. They’ve dubbed him Feral McGee™ (an online poll, of course), because every time he goes in for the punch he gets this feral look in his eyes. Also, just the fact that he casually goes up to these rogues and takes them out with all the casualness of doing something incredibly mundane? Incredible. The Gothamites are eating it up. However, despite the video evidence, nobody has been able to properly identify the kid. They know he has black hair and bright eyes, but any time he gets near a camera, it’s like there’s this weird, sort of warped quality the camera takes on. It doesn’t usually calm down until the fight is done-as one sided as they usually are-before he awkwardly skedaddles away.
He gets kidnapped by the Penguin, Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy (though that was more just a friendly chat than anything), Mad Hatter, and the Riddler again.
And then the Joker escapes.
It’s no surprise as to who he’s going to go after.
Due to one too many careless goons, they manage to find their way to the Joker’s hideout pretty quickly. This time, it’s all Bats on deck, and they all hide away in the rafters as Feral McGee™ is hung over a vat of acid. His whole body is tied up, hardly a single inch of exposed skin to be seen except for the neck up.
They watch the goons, they watch the Joker, and they watch Feral McGee™.
The Joker is monologuing, practically begging the bats to come find him before the timer runs out. When it does, the kid gets dumped into the vat of acid.
Despite these stakes, the kid seems to be only mildly annoyed.
“Fuck this, I have homework I still need to finish,” they hear him say.
They all watch, amazed and confused, as the kid starts gnawing through the ropes. Human teeth shouldn’t be able to do that so easily, but one bit after the other, and soon enough the kid’s got himself freed enough to just climb up the rest of the rope. When he’s at the top of the crane holding him up, Batman lets down a rope and pulls the kid up and out of danger.
“Oh, cool, you’re all here,” the kid says casually, as if meeting the entire Bat Clan is just a normal Tuesday. And then he pulls out a notepad and pen and hands it to Red Hood.
“Can I get an autograph? You’re dope as fuck, dude.”
Red Hood has to look away and hide his face in his arms for a few moments to not give away their location with his laughter before signing. And then, one by one, the others do as well. They pass along the kid’s notebook with shit-eating grins and barely contained snickers despite the fact that the Joker is still right below them. Even Batman signs it, after his children don’t stop hounding him about it.
In their distraction, they didn’t see the kid sneak away. He’s far away from them now, nearly right over the Joker. Danny waits, though, until the Joker has turned around as the timer almost runs out. They watch as he snickers at Joker’s flabbergasted look. The Joker comically looks back and forth and under objects the kid obviously isn’t under. However, before he can do or say anything else, the kid drops from the rafters and right on top of the Joker. He crumples to the ground, unconscious. The kid, however, just brushes the dust off of himself. Despite the fall he took, there isn’t a scratch on him.
When the bats join him, they give his notepad back to him, barely able to contain their laughter at the absurdity of it all. The kid, too, joins in the camaraderie, laughing and joking along with them as Batman secures the Joker.
“Okay, okay, but I gotta ask, dude,” Red Hood says at one point, looking at the kid. “How do you keep getting kidnapped?”
The kid just shrugs. “I get distracted easily. And I’m sleep deprived, so you know. Social awareness is kind of at an all time low right now.”
“Why are you sleep deprived?” Nightwing asks, barely hidden concern in his voice.
“Finals are kinda kicking my ass right now. Especially this dumb English homework I have. You guys wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“Oh, lucky for you,” Red Hood says, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulders as he walks them out of the warehouse, “I happen to know a lot about English. So, it is Shakespeare?”
“Yeah, Midsummer Night’s Dream.”
As they walk off, Batman calmly watches, though the rest of the bats can see his jaw twitching. Nightwing comes up behind him, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
“If you don’t adopt him, I will.”
“Hn.”
#danny phantom#danny fenton#batman#bruce wayne#dc#batclan#batfam#joker#danny is a feral human#dp x dc#dc x dp
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ミi hear you like magic? i've got a wand and a rabbit!
part one | part two
🍓 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem reader
🍓 tags: nsfw, size kink, inexperienced!reader, first time blow jobs, vaginal sex, rough(?) sex, riding, jealous ghost, some communication issues!
masterlist
reblogs are always enormously appreciated!
The problem with sleeping with a man like Ghost, you’re coming to realise, is that now that you’ve experienced the reality of sex (and good sex) you can’t stop thinking about it.
In the week following the night you’d spent together, you swear you can feel his phantom touch on your hips, your thighs, your back. It feels like he’s carved a space for himself inside of you, something you’ll never get back – not that you want it back in the first place.
Realistically, you know that the whole ‘loss of virginity’ thing doesn’t have as much to do with how you’re feeling as the fact that it was Ghost who had taken it. You had long bullied your hymen out of the way with your collection of silly dildos, but nothing could have prepared you for the scorching hot heat of Ghost’s massive cock splitting you open, or his clever tongue licking at you, or his thick calloused fingers rubbing torturous circles into your clit and fraying your nerves apart.
The worst part is, you don’t know if anything is ever going to live up to the way he made you feel again. You’ve tried to replicate his touches, his rhythm, the way he had split you open, but your fingers are too small and none of your dildos can imitate the way he had worked you stupid. To your immense dissatisfaction, you don’t even come close to coming again.
It feels like something inside of you has cracked open, and you don’t know how to stop all of this new yearning, how to stuff it all back inside and pretend that nothing has changed.
The problem is that while you feel as though you’ve been changed from the inside out, you don’t think Ghost feels the same way. Maybe the most infuriating thing is that Ghost seems entirely unaffected. Other than a couple of lingering glances and knowing stares, there’s no indication that he had done anything more intimate with you than grappling at training.
All you can do is attempt to follow his lead, to be as casual as possible.
It’s harder than it sounds.
You find your whole body straining towards him when he’s close to you, though you try to keep cool. You fail miserably. You can’t even look in Ghost’s direction without thinking of his big fingers hooked inside you, rubbing at your clit, squeezing at your tits. You can hardly look him in the eye without thinking of the way he looked when he was squeezed between your thighs with his mouth on your cunt, the way those big brown eyes watched as you writhed on his tongue.
And yet, you can hardly tear your eyes away from him. You look at him in a completely different light now. He’s the first man to take you, the first one to touch you so intimately, the first one to make you come. He’s still your lieutenant, but it’s like all of a sudden your eyes have been opened to a new aspect of him. He’s no longer just your untouchable superior, the man who’s always so cold and distant behind that death mask – now he’s the man who was gentle with you, the man who kissed you sweetly when he took your virginity, the man who gave you the first, second, third orgasm of your life.
But despite the way you had been offered that new little glimpse into Ghost, he still remains an enigma to you.
You can feel his eyes on you throughout the week, though it’s never at the same time as when you’re looking at him. And maybe you’re imagining it, but it seems as though he’s gotten freer with his touches, too. A big palm on the small of your back as he steps past you, a quick squeeze to the shoulder. It’s subtle, and you can’t be sure that he’s actually touching you anymore than usual.
But other than the subtle glances and the light touches, Ghost doesn’t make any genuine effort to approach you again. He still treats you like just another member of the squad, no different to Soap or Gaz.
If anything, he gives them more attention than he gives you, delivering his deadpan jokes and exchanging quips during training. You end up standing to the side, sending infrequent glances their way in the hopes that he’ll give you something.
You’ve never been the fittest or the strongest, but your level of distraction in those few days following your night with Ghost is absolutely mortifying. You’re slow, you’re clumsy, you mess up everything.
You don’t think you can be blamed when you’re working in the same space as Ghost. You can hardly bring yourself to look his way when he’s lifting weights, unable to handle looking at the flex and curl of his muscles under his long-sleeve black workout shirt. It clings to him, letting you see every little shift of muscle and tendon beneath that stupid top as he works, and your mind very unhelpfully provides a slideshow of memories of him between your spread thighs.
You know it’s obvious. You glance at him, then glance away, then back again. Your eyes linger, bright and too interested, before you’re able to hide it. You wonder sometimes if your yearning is obvious on your face; you hope not.
But if Ghost sees it – any of it – he gives no indication.
If you have to be honest with yourself, you’ll admit that you’re disappointed. You had hoped that– well. You’re not sure you can bear to admit what you’d hoped, even just to yourself. It feels silly to admit that maybe you had hoped that Ghost wouldn’t be content with just being your first, that maybe he’d want to be your second, your third. Silly. Almost blasphemous.
You don’t technically have to show up to training, so after only two days of your awkward and uncertain pining in the gym, you stop showing up. The role you fulfil as part of the 141 is a non-combat one, so you know you won’t be missed in their ongoing training. You’ve mostly been working in communications; maintaining secure communication channels and ensuring that information is transmitted accurately and securely. The boys rely on you in the field, and you feel like you owe them a certain level of physical fitness just in case things go frighteningly wrong when you’re out there with them.
There’s just something so mortifying about the whole situation. It feels as though Ghost had peeled back the layers of you and taken a peek at your soft unprotected insides. You’d been vulnerable in front of him in a way you’d never been in front of anyone before, in a way that you can hardly stand. You had thought that you’d been okay with it being a one time thing, but you weren’t exactly doing a whole lot of thinking at the time.
So yeah, every time he glances away from you, or when he doesn’t even bother to look in your direction at all, it feels like you’re being rejected anew. It’s…. It’s not ideal. But you’re a big girl, and you’ve dealt with repressed desire and stifled yearning for years now. At least now you have a real experience to add to your reserve of imagination the next time you try to get yourself off.
It’s fine. You convince yourself that you were being ridiculous in the first place. He’s Ghost, after all. You feel a little foolish for even having the brief hope that something more might happen between the two of you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: .☽ . :☆゚
You manage to keep to yourself for most of the week, and the rest of the squad is kind enough not to say anything about it. But when Thursday comes around, you realise it’s not going to be possible to avoid Soap and his persistent insistence that you join them all in the moderately-sized cantina for drinks that night.
Truthfully, it doesn’t take too much persuading to convince you to go. Avoiding training with the squad had resulted in a week of isolation that had left you lonely and wishing for some social interaction. Besides, you’ve never quite been able to say no to Soap, and so you’re dragged to the little cantina for the second Thursday in a row.
To your absolute bewilderment, you find yourself in the exact same position as you had been in the last time you shared drinks with the squad, exactly one week ago.
Despite hardly speaking to you all week, Ghost had so confidently taken a seat next to you on the same fucking squishy little couch that you had shared last week. You end up partially squashed into the arm of the sofa, with Ghost’s massive hulking body brushing against you with every slight movement.
It’s galling to admit it, but you feel like you’re on fire. He doesn’t say much other than a soft murmur of a greeting when he first settles down beside you, but then he throws his arm around the back of the couch in a move that’s unexpectedly intimate.
You try not to read too much into it. While Ghost may be fairly aloof and menacing to those that don’t know him well, to you and the squad he’s always been subtly territorial. His eyes flick around the room semi-regularly, never at ease even in the middle of base. When Gaz goes to get drinks, Ghost’s eyes follow him until he gets back as though he’s expecting something to happen in the few minutes and couple of feet that he’s gone. He does the same when Price steps out for a smoke, and when Soap steps out to the toilet.
So the arm behind you (technically resting on the back of the couch rather than your shoulders) doesn’t actually mean anything. The curious look that Soap sends you doesn’t mean anything either, and you studiously ignore it as you force yourself to relax at Ghost’s side.
You drink the vodka soda Gaz hands you a little quicker than you mean to – maybe it’s because your nerves are already set on edge, but the alcohol goes to your head. Quickly.
It’s a pleasant floaty feeling, and it eases some of the anxiety that’s been bubbling thanks to the heat that sinks into your skin from his side pressed up against you. By the time you drain your glass, you’re leaning against his side. He doesn’t react, for better or worse; you wish he would give you some indication of where you stand, whether he likes you bundled up by his side or if he’s just tolerating it.
When Ghost’s eyes finally slide over to you from behind the dark pits of his mask, you nearly jolt. His gaze is lazy and half-lidded, but he reaches out to take the glass from you. His gloved fingers brush over yours, and you can’t stifle the embarrassing little judder that runs down your spine.
“Slow down.” He murmurs, setting the glass aside. “It’s still early.”
You had been hoping all damn evening that he would just look at you, but now that you finally have his eyes on you it feels as though you’re pinned down by them. You try not to squirm, once again remembering the way those dark eyes had watched you so darkly as he had hunched over you, rutting into you until the tears were streaming down your cheeks.
Your mind goes blank under his attention and his closeness, the ambient noise of glasses clinking and loud voices laughing and joking and muffled old eighties tunes fading to nothing until the sound of Soap’s loud voice brings you back to yourself.
“Let the lass drink, LT.” He crows, grinning, and you realise that he already has another couple of drinks in his hands. You hadn’t even noticed him leaving for the bar. “She deserves to have fun tonight. Don’t you, bonnie?”
“Sure.” You agree easily, relieved by the distraction and already reaching for the new drink. You’re still all fidgety and distracted, eager to drown yourself in it. “I deserve fun.”
It feels as though Ghost’s gaze is burning right into the side of your head, but you fixedly ignore him. He’s so intense, you’re pretty sure that you look like a dazed idiot under the weight of his attention. It’s the most he’s looked at you all week, and you attempt to hide your face behind your glass as you take a sip of your fresh drink.
He’s drinking too, though he’s foregone his usual whiskey in favour of a dark lager that he’s barely touched. The glass is sweating with condensation, and he swipes a thick gloved thumb over the fog on it absent-mindedly as he watches you.
You watch Gaz and Soap as they joke with each other, trading jibes and jabs and stories that you hardly even hear. It feels a little as though your ears have been filled with cotton wool, as though everything around you is just distinctly muffled. You feel like you’re on another planet, awareness tethered only by the hot, hard line of Ghost’s muscular body pressed against your side.
Over the last week, you’ve tried very hard not to be a stereotype.
You’ve heard men laughing about girls they’ve slept with who’ve become too clingy, who’ve wanted too much, and wasted their time searching for something that those guys aren’t willing to give. Maybe it’s because you’re so conscious that Ghost has taken several of your firsts, but you’re so determined to not be that person.
Ghost isn’t exactly a big talker anyway, unless it’s the odd sarcastic comment or ribbing with Soap, so it’s not like you’ve talked about the situation. You had just awoken the morning after with a deep ache in your core and a sore back, though the pain was soothed by the warm embrace you were all wrapped up in. You had been nervous, but you needn’t have been. Ghost had given you nothing. He just rubbed your back with one shovel-sized hand and pressed a kiss to your bare shoulder (through the mask, so you don’t know what to make of that) before he rolled out of your bed to pull his trousers back on, grunting that he’d see you later.
So, you don’t talk about it. Not with him, and not with anybody. It feels like so much has changed, yet everything stays the same. The deja vu you’re experiencing from sitting on the couch drinking with him like this is overwhelming, and experiencing him staring at you like this after a full week of distance is making you feel hot and fuzzy and stupid.
While Soap is in the midst of a loud and enthusiastic retelling of a story from his basic training days, you build up the courage to glance up at Ghost. He’s already looking at you, as though anticipating your attention.
“You’re staring at me.” You mumble, your fingers clenching compulsively around your chilled glass.
Ghost shifts, and you feel the thick muscle of his bicep roll behind your head. He grunts in quiet agreement.
“Yeah.”
He doesn’t say anything else, uninterested in justifying or explaining himself. It’s like he thinks that he doesn’t need to; he just keeps watching you, his light blond eyelashes drawing low over his eyes as his head tilts.
Self-conscious under his intensity, you glance away again. Soap is still talking, but you can’t focus. Despite the fact that Ghost is big and warm and so frustratingly attractive beside you, it’s hard to ignore the subtle prickle of irritation that’s growing under your skin.
After all, he had taken your virginity and then proceeded to act as though nothing at all had changed between you for the rest of the week, and now he’s sat next to you with his gaze that heated? What the fuck?
The second drink goes down even easier than the first thanks to your awkwardness. You’re not sure what to make of his attention – you’ve spent the whole week keeping a sense of distance, determined to stay cool and casual. The last thing you want to do is freak him out by seeming like an over-eager idiot that’s gone and fallen in too deep with him, unwilling to lose whatever meagre respect Ghost has developed for you since you started working with the 141.
“I’ll get the next round.” You blurt suddenly, pushing yourself up off the couch.
It’s too abrupt to be casual, and you pointedly don’t look at the half-full glasses in your squad mates’ hands as you hurry away. You probably could have played that off better, but you need a moment to collect yourself away from Ghost’s relentless stare.
You take the opportunity to breathe at the bar, rubbing at your eyes and sighing. The bartender is busy, so you just stand there for a long moment, mentally chastising yourself.
God, this is just embarrassing. You’re a grown fucking woman, and here you are getting so ridiculously flustered over your lieutenant. You never thought that you’d be the type to turn into a silly little mess over the first man you ever sleep with, but maybe it was inevitable. The little embers of that crush you had been harbouring on Ghost since you joined the team have been fanned into a full on flame and you hardly know how to handle yourself.
It takes a significant effort to keep your attention away from the table; you can’t help but want to look, to see if Ghost is still looking your way, but you keep your eyes to yourself.
When another body appears at your side, you jolt in surprise. You hadn’t expected to be followed, and your first thought is that it must be Soap. But when you glance to your side, you find a stranger standing closer to you than you expected.
Well, he’s not a total stranger. You know him to see around the base, sandy-haired with a too wide smile. You think he might be a second lieutenant, but you’ve never actually had any dealings with him and you can’t think of a name… Daniels, maybe?
“Hello there,” He says, and even with those two words his intentions are unmistakable. His tone is suggestive, as is the way his eyes scan over your body. “How you doing?”
It’s far from the first time you’ve been hit on by men; it comes with the territory of being a woman in a male-dominated environment. They look at you like they want to eat you sometimes, in a way that sets your teeth on edge. You’ve always danced around the subject of intimacy, embarrassed about your lack of experience and too anxious to actually seek out anyone to change that. What happened with Ghost was unexpected, and just about changed your entire outlook on sex and physical pleasure for life.
Your first reaction, as always, is to shut him down or ignore him. But something makes you pause, and glance back at him.
He’s sort of cute. A charming smile, at least. When he sees you looking back, he only smiles wider and steps closer.
“Let me get this next one for you,” He says, gesturing at the bartender to catch his attention. “What’re you having?”
“Uh..” You hesitate a moment, biting your lip. “Vodka soda.”
He orders, then leans against the bar and turns to face you fully. His gaze is appreciative, and for once you don’t shy away from it. You so rarely return male attention that you hardly know what to do, but you manage to muster up an awkward smile.
When the bartender returns with your drink, you feel a momentary pang of guilt. You had almost forgotten that you were meant to order drinks for the table, and you send a swift glance over your shoulder.
The boys are still engrossed in their conversation, hardly even noticing your absence. All but Ghost.
The lieutenant has half-turned, his arm still slung over the couch where you had been sitting as he stares. The realisation that his eyes are still on you has your spine straightening, self-conscious now about your posture and your body language.
You look away swiftly, and try not to feel guilty. You’re not doing anything wrong, after all. He hasn’t spoken to you all week despite the fact that he’d nearly done your back in fucking you.
Your experience with Ghost may have been a one-time thing, no matter what you might have been hoping for, but there’s no reason that it has to be a one-time thing for you with anyone else. Even with your stupid vibrators and dildos, you haven’t been able to come close to coming in the week following your night with your lieutenant. You’re starting to wonder if maybe you’re not capable of coming without someone else’s hands on you.
“I’ve seen you around, been meaning to talk to you,” Daniels is saying, and in your distraction you almost miss it. “But it’s, uh… it’s a little difficult to catch you alone.”
You almost scoff, but you manage to swallow it back down. You know exactly what he means; the 141 sticks together and looks out for each other, but it also sometimes feels like you have a couple of overprotective guard dogs. They take watching you seriously, probably due to your non-combat role on the team, and you’ve never discouraged it because you like the way they make you feel safe.
“Yeah, the guys can be a little protective.” You laugh a little weakly. “But don’t mind them.”
Even now, you can feel Ghost’s dark eyes burning into you from across the room. You wonder how on earth Daniels remains so unaware of it.
“Mm,” Daniels leans in, his white teeth glinting. “Can’t blame them, I suppose. Why don’t you come and join me and some of the lads at our table for a bit? Spend some time with some new people.”
You shift on the balls of your feet, thinking. Admittedly, you’ve never been big on socialising when on base, other than the usual minor exchange of pleasantries. You hardly even know what to do in the face of a man’s interest in you now.
“Oh, I’m not sure.” You demur, reaching up to scratch absently behind your ear. “I don’t think the boys would appreciate me abandoning them for the night.”
Daniels’ smile widens, and you feel your cheeks heat. You feel clumsy with your socialising, as though you’re stretching muscles you’re not used to using. Since you had joined the 141, you hadn’t done too much mingling outside of the squad; they’ve been your only friends and confidantes, ribbing and supporting you in equal measure. In the face of a stranger in the on-base cantina, you find yourself floundering.
“I think they get enough of your time,” He murmurs, leaning against the bar in such a way that his body is angled towards you. “C’mon, I’ll buy you another few drinks and we can get to know each other, huh?”
Maybe the vodka was a bad idea. It’s lowering your inhibitions, making you actually consider his offer. You’re pent up from a week of unsuccessful touching yourself, and you crave physical intimacy.
If you can’t get a repeat performance from Ghost, then maybe it wouldn’t be so terrible if you looked elsewhere, with someone who might be interested in more than a one time thing.
You glance down at Daniel’s hands where they’re wrapped around his beer glass. They’re big, with strong slender fingers and calloused knuckles. Nice hands, you think, but you can’t help but compare to the enormous thick paws of your lieutenant. Still, you think they’d do the job.
“Well–” You start to say, your tone wavering and uncertain as you consider his officer.
But you don’t get to give him an answer before a massive hand settles on your shoulder. It makes you jolt, startled, recognising Ghost by touch alone. It feels as though it sears straight through your clothes, and your eyes widen.
For a moment, Ghost says nothing at all. He just stands at your shoulder, so close that you feel the muscle of his chest and stomach brush against your back, and stares at Daniels from over the top of your head. The glare isn’t even directed your way, and yet you find yourself wilting from it.
“On your way, Sergeant.” Ghost drawls, lifting his chin and gesturing at him dismissively.
Despite Ghost’s obvious intimidation factor, Daniels doesn’t immediately do as he’s told. He huffs out a short breathless laugh instead, as though he can hardly believe what he’s hearing.
“We’re only talking, Lieutenant–”
Ghost doesn’t even respond. His glower just intensifies, until Daniels trails off and his mouth snaps shut. You get the impression that if anyone else tried to intimidate him just by staring and posturing, Daniels might actually square up and fight. He seems like the type to make poor decisions while drinking – maybe you were going to be one of them.
But as it is, Ghost has an intimidation factor unmatched by anyone else you’ve ever known. It goes beyond his giant hulking physique and skull mask and low gravelly voice that can sound like a clap of thunder when he’s angry. It’s like he has an aura, something that radiates off him in dark waves saying ‘Don’t fuck with me’. Any sensible person would back the fuck off when faced with his full, unwelcoming attention.
And sure enough, Daniels is no exception. He raises his arms to his shoulders and gives Ghost a mocking sort of smile before retreating backwards. To your mortification, he doesn’t so much as glance your way even as he turns his back on you.
Irritation settles over you like a blanket. It makes your skin itch and your teeth grind, and you turn to scowl at Ghost.
“What the hell was that?” You demand, and your voice comes out sharper than you had technically intended.
Ghost’s head tilts, and those sharp dark eyes find you from behind the mask. The eyeblack is beginning to fade in patches around the inner corners of his eyes – bizarrely, it serves as a reminder that Ghost is just a man, not just a massive wall of muscle with a terrifying glower.
“What was what?” He says. His voice has dropped a notch, deep and rumbling into you even as you step away and turn so that you’re facing him head on.
“You– I was just–” You flounder for a moment, searching for words as you gesture uselessly with your hands.
You’re indignant over his interruption, and your frustration grows as you find yourself unable to articulate yourself. Where the hell does he get off interrupting you talking to another man? He hadn’t spoken to you all week, and now he feels confident enough to cockblock you?
“Mm.” Ghost grunts. “What were you doing?”
Your jaw clenches. “I was talking. Is that a crime now?”
Jesus, you sound like a brat. You don’t even know where this insubordination is coming from; he’s your lieutenant, regardless of that one night you had spent with him. You’re being too bold talking like this, but it’s like you just can’t help yourself.
His eyes darken, lashes blocking out his irises as his gaze narrows at you. You force yourself to maintain eye contact, to keep your spine straight and shoulders back despite your impulse to crumble.
“Watch that mouth, doll.” He warns, his voice low, and you feel your stomach tighten at both his words and his tone.
But your self-preservation instincts are still missing.
“You can’t ignore me all week and then get annoyed at me when I–”
He cuts you off as though he’s not even listening to you. “Not here. Come on.”
And with that, he wraps one big hand around your upper arm and begins leading you out of the cantina. He’s not harsh, and he doesn’t drag you or anything, but judging by the tense set of his shoulders arguing with him would be a really bad idea right now.
You’ve pissed him off, and you don’t want to make his mood worse so you allow your feet to move automatically as he leads you out of the room.
You can feel eyes on your back as you leave, and you feel yourself grow squirmy with embarrassment. No doubt the rest of the squad is watching you get hauled off by Ghost right now.
Oh god, the Captain is watching you get hauled off — how mortifying. You pray they didn’t catch your little exchange with Ghost at the bar, but you have a feeling that hope is in vain. The 141 are close-knit and protective over each other, but they’re also terrible gossips.
“Let me– Sir, let me go–” You start to complain, testing his grip. His hold on you is iron-clad, and yet still somehow gentle enough to avoid bruising.
When you realise where he’s leading you to, you stop complaining very quickly. You had figured that he was just going to drag you into the corridor outside and give you a talking to, but he doesn’t stop there. He keeps going, until you realise that he’s leading you all the way back to your own damn room
“What are you doing?” You demand in a hiss. You’re so incensed that you swear your hair is standing on end.
After all that, is Ghost seriously hauling you back to your room like you’re a bold child? Is he angry because of your insubordination at the bar?
A cold trickle of anxiety enters your stomach, and you steal a worried glance at his face. The hard-shell mask he uses on missions has been traded for the softer black woven balaclava that he usually wears when he’s not in the field, but it doesn’t make him any easier to read.
He doesn’t answer until the two of you have crossed the threshold of your room, the door shutting behind you with a firm click.
Now that it’s the two of you, alone once again in your tiny shitty room, you find your indignant confidence waning rapidly. He’s just so big, the huge masculine frame of him making you feel more ridiculous than ever for your momentary flash of brattiness. Even worse, having him in your space like this is only making your brain go into overdrive, as though your body remembers what happened the last time he was here like this.
You decide that the best defence mechanism to prevent yourself from looking like a fool is to cling onto those last little dregs of anger.
“You’re unbelievable.” You snap, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes. “You’ve been avoiding me all week! And then as soon as another guy speaks to me, you’re over to me like a light. I mean, what the fuck?” And then, remembering the chain of command, you add a very sullen, “Sir.”
Throughout your mini little rant, Ghost has just watched you. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t know how to read, unable to get a feel for what he’s thinking through that inscrutable mask.
“‘S not true.” He grunts after a moment, and you realise that his eyes have creased in a way that suggests he’s frowning.
You feel like you’re going to explode. “Yes, it is! Daniels was barely speaking to me for two minutes before you scared him off–”
Bizarrely, your words make Ghost snort. You hadn’t even realised how tense his shoulders were until he relaxes, and you stare at him in confusion as he steps past you towards your bed. Your anger fizzles out, leaving behind self-conscious confusion as you watch your lieutenant settle down so that he’s sitting at the edge of your bed with his legs spread wide.
“His name is Davidson.” He says, and his voice is missing the somewhat dangerous edge it had only moments earlier. “And that wasn’t what I was talking about.”
Embarrassment flares, though you try to stifle it. So you didn’t know the guy’s name – whatever. You would have learned it by the end of the night, you’re certain. You open your mouth, defensive and prickly, but Ghost speaks again before you get the chance to.
“I haven’t been ignoring you.” He says, watching you like he’s trying to figure you out. When you just blink at him, he sighs. “Jesus, sweetheart, just sit down for a second. Tell me what I did wrong, yeah?”
You’re left feeling a little wrong-footed, hesitating in the middle of the room. You had expected him to be a little angrier than this, to chide you for your behaviour. Or maybe you had expected him to be cold, or dismissive.
Slowly, you take a few steps towards the bed. He watches you approach, those dark eyes watchful and sharp, but says nothing as you nervously perch on the bed beside him.
Despite the fact that this is your room, you’re stiff when you sit next to him. Your brain is in overdrive, providing you with very unhelpful memories of the last time Ghost was on your bed and flooding your body with mortifying heat.
“You’ve barely spoken to me since we–” You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, averting your gaze and staring at some point past his shoulder. “Since last week. If you wanted to keep it professional, that’s– that’s fine–”
Ghost’s spine straightens, but he doesn’t speak yet. He just watches you, and lets you flounder awkwardly as you struggle to articulate yourself.
“I don’t want to make things awkward, I just–” You’re tripping over your words, wincing when they come out all clumsy. “I’ve never done this before, so I’ll follow your lead, but I don’t understand the point of sending Dan– Davidson, whatever, away like that if you’re clearly trying to keep things between us professional–”
Finally, Ghost speaks, though it seems like he’s suddenly developed incredibly selective hearing.
“He’s a wanker. Chases around any woman that stands still for too long in that damn cantina every time we’re in there.” His voice is a low earnest rumble, but you’re too agitated to properly hear him. “He didn’t have anything to offer that you’d be interested in.”
“That’s not–”
“Besides,” He cuts clean across you, but so gently, so much so that it surprises you. “I think we long surpassed professionalism when you asked if you could use my cock like a dildo.”
Blood rushes to your head so fast you feel a little light-headed. Right, so he’s decided to cut straight to the chase then. You swallow, and your dry throat clicks audibly.
“Right.” You say. “Yeah, that– um… that’s made things awkward, I suppose.” A brief pause, and then you sheepishly add, “Sorry, LT.”
Ghost just watches you, his brown eyes inscrutable beneath the fan of his pale eyelashes. Under the dark fabric of the mask you see his jaw flex, as though he’s considering his next words carefully.
“C’mere.” He says.
You had been expecting him to say more, and you hesitate a moment before reluctantly shuffling over a few inches. Though he had invited you to move closer to him, you’re suddenly so conscious of crossing any possible boundaries.
You had never slept with anyone before, and you don’t understand what’s expected of you now. How are you supposed to act, now that you’ve had a one-night stand with your lieutenant?
“Haven’t been ignoring you,” Ghost says, and he reaches out to place a hand on your knee. The touch makes your eyes widen, gaze darting down to stare at his thick fingers where they wrap around the underside of your knee. “You jokin’? Been watching you all week. Thinkin’ about you all the time.”
That’s a bold enough statement that all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You can’t deny that he’s been watching you – you had felt his eyes on you regularly, but always from a distance. But…
“You never–” You start to say, before swallowing again so you don’t say something stupid. “You haven’t spoken to me.”
“Spoke to you during training, before you stopped showing up.”
That’s a little galling, and all you can do is scowl.
“Stop that. You know what I mean.” You snap defensively.
Maybe you’re imagining it, but you think Ghost might be confused behind that stupid mask. His head has tilted just slightly to the side in the same way as it usually does when he’s trying to figure something out.
“I was trying to give you space, doll.” He murmurs. “It was your first– I didn’t want to overwhelm you. Wanted you to make your own choices.”
The uncertainty in his voice is unexpectedly endearing, but you’re not ready to let go of your irritation with him just yet. Admittedly you’re losing steam, but you struggle to straighten your back and affect a scowl nonetheless.
“I didn’t want space.” You say, and it comes out a little more childish than you had intended it to. You try not to cringe at yourself. “You just– we never talked about anything, you just woke up the next morning and left and then all week you hardly spoke to me.”
You curse your inexperience even as you speak, feeling like a total idiot. You just wish you knew what was expected of you, what Ghost wants. Was he put off by the fact that he had to guide you, fumbling and clumsy, through an experience that was absolutely mind-blowing for you but probably sub-standard for him?
And oh, that thought makes dread curl in your belly. What if Ghost wasn’t impressed with your… performance? You had no idea what you were doing, only that the way Ghost had touched you felt so good, so much better than you’ve ever managed to make yourself feel with your fingers or toys. And when he had brought you to orgasm, you had lost yourself completely. You hadn’t made any attempt to return his attention, too lost in all the new pleasure you were experiencing.
There’s a pause, the silence between you stretching taut. Ghost doesn’t rush to reply, instead apparently thinking hard before he speaks.
“I go for a run in the mornings.” He says at last, his voice low and rumbly.
It takes you a moment to process that.
“You– what?”
Ghost shifts, and the cheap standard issue mattress beneath the two of you squeaks. “That morning, I… went for a run.”
He must realise how that sounds – maybe the expression on your face tips him off – because he hurries to add on to it. “Creature of habit, love. I didn’t– I don’t do this often either. I stayed the night, we cuddled. I thought–”
He stops rather abruptly, and doesn’t finish so you don’t quite know what he thought. Your confusion has gotten the best of you, and you’re staring at him in agitated confusion. God, he’s bad at communicating.
“Should have stayed.” He says gruffly, and if you’re not mistaken he sounds a little chagrined. “Thought we were fine, until you started avoiding me. And then I thought you just needed time to yourself.” He gives a jerky shrug, clearly out of his comfort zone. “‘Cause it was your first time. Dunno.”
Oh. Well.
Now you’re the one blinking at him. That’s… not what you had been expecting.
While you thought Ghost had been giving you the cold shoulder, he had thought that he was being considerate. Jesus. You’re not sure how to even begin processing that.
“I didn’t need time to myself.” You say, and you sound pathetic.
There’s a beat of silence during which you feel thoroughly examined. Ghost hardly even blinks as he watches you, his scrutiny making you sweat.
“No,” He rumbles after a moment. “Apparently you didn’t.”
You roll your eyes, honestly a little irritated with him. Even after it’s been made clear that your miscommunication has caused issues this whole week, he’s still so hesitant to just fucking talk to you.
“Right, well–” You start to say, a little sharp.
He grabs at you before you can retreat, his enormous hand comically large around your wrist. He’s not holding you harshly, his grip just loose enough that you could break out of it if you tried. But instead of pulling away, you allow him to tug you closer. His free hand reaches for your hip, and quicker than your tired mind is able to follow he’s tugged you up into his lap.
“Jesus–” You blurt, grabbing at his shoulders for balance.
Ghost is built like a brick house, all thick and sturdy with all that solid muscle. He’s broad too, and your legs are forced wide as he encourages you to settle in his lap. You try not to let your reaction show on your face, but Ghost is watching you so carefully that you’re certain he can read every micro-twitch anyway.
“Last week wasn’t enough?” He asks, and if you’re not mistaken he sounds hungry. Maybe you could even delude yourself into thinking there’s an undertone of hope, too.
But maybe that’s a step too far. This is the Ghost, after all. He’s veritably a human weapon, every inch of him battle-scarred and solid beneath the heavy clothes and thick mask. You’re pretty sure that any kind of yearning you hear has been prescribed by your own imagination. But you can’t help yourself.
You shake your head, your breath catching in your chest. No, last week wasn’t enough.
“Then why bother with that idiot at the bar?” Ghost asks, his big hands folding around your hips. “If you wanted to be fucked, you could have just asked me.”
You swallow thickly, your throat clicking audibly. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to speak so bluntly, but it’s typical of Ghost to get straight to the point without beating around the bush.
“I wasn’t sure you’d want to do that with me again.” You say, your voice edged with insecurity.
There’s a long moment of silence during which Ghost just stares at you. It’s borderline uncomfortable, and you find it difficult to maintain eye contact with him. Even with the mask acting as a barrier, he’s still so intense.
“What made you think that?” He asks, his voice low.
You find yourself quite abruptly aware of the position you’re in. You’re sitting perched in your lieutenant’s lap with your legs spread wide, after a week of pining after him like an embarrassing little puppy. You’ve been craving physical contact, yearning desperately for that same kind of pleasure he had introduced to you ever since your night together.
“You’re difficult to read.” You whisper awkwardly, shifting. You’re hyper-aware of your weight in his lap; even though you know he’s strong, the thought of being too heavy for him is a little mortifying.
But his hands tighten around your hips, keeping you securely in place across his thighs.
“You think so?” His voice is low, a little rough, and the gravel of it causes a little frisson of heat to trickle down your spine. “You been trying to read me? Can’t have been doin’ a very good job, darling, since you’ve been avoiding me all fuckin’ week.”
Your breath comes out tremulously, and you pray he can’t hear the shake in your voice when you speak. Judging by his darkening gaze, he hears it loud and clear.
“I just– Didn’t know if you would want me again.” You whisper, feeling foolish and inexperienced and clumsy.
Ghost watches you, his dark eyes flickering over your face, before he finally hums. Then his grip tightens around your hips and he pulls you so that your clothed crotch grinds against him. You gasp, your eyes widening when you feel the thick ridge of his cock in his tac trousers, unmistakably hard as your clothed cunt slides over him.
“Feel that?” He asks, his voice dropping into that deep, hungry register that you’ve been hearing in your dreams all fucking week.
“Yeah.” You choke, fighting the urge to grind on him like a fucking slut. If your hips twitch, just a little, you think you could be excused.
You are already intimately familiar with his cock, considering how eagerly he had fucked you open on it a week ago (several times, too), but the way it fills his trousers makes it seem ridiculously big and you wonder, a little wildly, how the fuck it ever fit in you in the first place. It presses against the seam of his trousers, right between your legs, and then Ghost grinds up into you and you swear your vision sparks out for a moment.
“Oh!” You blurt out in a wavering whisper, clutching at his shoulders. “Oh, god.”
“Still think I don’t want you?” He grunts. His hands are like fucking shovels, and he takes a grip of your ass and squeezes until you squeak.
Your head is swimming. Your trousers are too tight, the crotch of them pressing into your clit, and you feel like you can't get enough air in your lungs.
“I don’t know.” You say stupidly.
It’s like your cunt knows that Ghost is near, because you’re fucking drenched. You can feel your underwear stick uncomfortably to you beneath your clothes, slick and wet as you feel the shape of Ghost’s cock press into you.
He sighs beneath you, his big palm stroking over your ass affectionately.
“You think too much, doll.” He mutters, his finder squeezing into the plush flesh of your ass like it’s a stress toy. “Way too fuckin’ much.”
He’s probably right. God, you want to stop thinking. Want to return to that stupid, dazed, fucked-out state of mind he had sent you to when he had stuffed you full.
Hesitantly, you grind yourself down onto the thick bulge beneath you. It feels good, that familiar pleasant little spark jolting up your spine as you hump yourself against him.
“Yeah,” Ghost grunts, his voice thick with unmistakable want. “That’s it. You’ve been wanting this, havent’cha?”
“Yeah.” You admit, so quietly that it’s almost inaudible. “Yeah, I want it.”
But Ghost hears. Of course he does. He lets out a low sound that has your thighs squishing closed around his hips, overwhelmed and running far too hot.
He has you on your back so quickly that your head spins, and you end up staring at the ceiling for a moment in bewilderment, trying to figure out how you’d gotten there. Ghost is already leaning over you, his dark eyes intent on your face as he settles between your thighs.
You think you should probably be embarrassed about the ease with which you spread your legs, eager to feel his bulky body between your thighs. But you’re already running hot, your chest tightening with want, and you find yourself mercifully relieved that he’s here. The miscommunication between the two of you is going to be solved, Ghost wants you, and you’re about to get what you’ve been craving all week.
He pulls your own pants off effortlessly, leaving you in the underwear that you’ve fucking ruined. You try to shut your legs, face burning hot with embarrassment as you try to hide the sight, but Ghost doesn’t have any intention of letting you hide yourself.
He pushes your legs back open, then presses his masked face to the inside of your thigh. You’re not sure what he’s doing; you remember, with a little thrill, the feeling of his red hot mouth against your pussy, but you don’t think that’s what’s happening here because he’s still got his stupid fucking balaclava on.
“Did she miss me?” He asks, his words muffled by both the mask and the pudge of your thigh.
“What?” You ask breathlessly, thinking for a moment that Ghost is talking about you in the third person.
But then he nuzzles his masked face against the sodden seat of your knickers, and you realise that he’s talking about your fucking pussy.
“Oh my god, you weirdo–” You choke out, but you don’t get any further than that before Ghost is tugging impatiently at your underwear, trying to reveal your cunt.
He hushes you, almost absent-mindedly, and you hear him take a breath when he finally manages to get your knickers off. He tosses them aside, his dark eyes focused intently on your bare cunt now that it’s been revealed. It’s embarrassing, but you can’t bring yourself to try and hide again. He’s touching you so reverently and looking at you so hungrily that you’re not brave enough to try to deprive him of the sight.
“My fussy girl,” He mutters, low enough that you almost don’t hear him. “Have you been touching yourself? Using your toys this week?”
You shiver, a little embarrassed. You have been using your stupid toys, but they haven’t been working. No matter what you do, you can’t replicate the feelings that Ghost had managed to elicit in you with such ease, and you have a sinking feeling that he knows that.
But the mention of your toys reminds you of something else, too. A recurring thought that’s been practically haunting you, that’s had you imagining Ghost up above you and around you as you’d sucked experimentally on your dildo, sliding it into your mouth just to see how much of it you could take.
“Wait–” You say, and though your voice wavers, Ghost sits back immediately, eyes on your face. It’s like he’s just waiting for your word, an order, a direction. Something in your belly warms, and you take a breath.
“I want to try something.” You tell him before you can lose your nerve. “Sit back down.”
He sits at the edge of your bed, his bulky frame moving far more gracefully than you’d expect for his size if you hadn’t already seen him in action. He’s almost patient, until you catch the way the fingers of his right hand drum against his thigh as he waits for you to do something.
Since you’re already stripped from the waist down, you see no point in remaining clothed on top too. When you pull your top and bra off, Ghost makes a low appreciative rumble deep in his chest that you swear you can feel run down your spine.
“Promising start.” He says, and you want to smack him.
You shoot him a little scowl, before deciding to just ignore him. You’ve fancied him for an embarrassingly long time, probably since the very first time you had laid eyes on him upon joining the task force, and now he’s sitting on your bed, willing and hard and admitting that he wants you. It takes your breath away a little, especially the way that he doesn’t seem put off by your inexperience at all.
Slowly, you sink to your knees in front of him and watch his eyes widen beneath the balaclava. It’s somewhat gratifying to see his surprise; like you’ve finally got one over on your big bad lieutenant.
“Very promising start.” He says, and this time he sounds a little husky. “D’you know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”
The answer is, very obviously, no. You have no idea what you’re doing, you’re learning as you go along. But Ghost hasn’t judged you yet for your clumsy fumbling exploration, so you can only hope that he’s willing to put up with this too.
“Sort of.” You say evasively. “I’ve seen it in porn, and I’ve… I’ve been practicing.”
Ghost’s groan sounds like it’s been punched out of him, and it’s rough enough to have you glancing up in surprise from where you’re trying to get his stupid trousers unbuttoned. Your hands are unsteady and unsure, and it’s slow-going.
“Yeah?” He asks, sounding a little out of breath himself. “Which one?” “What?” You’re a little distracted, not paying full attention to his question as you tug at his trousers. You’ve finally got them unbuttoned, and you pull impatiently in an effort to get them off. Ghost lifts his hips to help, though your eager impatience seems to amuse him.
“Which one of your toys’ve you been practicing on?” He asks, the barest undertone of a groan in his voice. “The pretty little pink one?”
You feel embarrassed heat prickle in your face because yes, it had in fact been that one you had been practising with. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that you’re apparently so predictable that Ghost can guess which dildo you’ve been sucking at, imagining it was him.
“Maybe.” You mutter evasively.
Ghost lets out a low chuckle right as you manage to wrangle his cock out of his briefs, and then you have to pause for a moment because oh. You had known, of course, that he was big. You had felt him for days after that first time, like a fucking internal bruise that ached at you every time you moved. He was bigger than any toy that you owned, you know that, you’ve felt it, and yet now that it’s in front of your face it seems so much bigger than you remember.
You’ve watched porn with so-called ‘monster cocks’ and it isn’t like that. It’s just… bigger. Than average, that is. At least, as far as you can tell, because it’s not like you have enough experience with dicks in real life to have any idea of what average really is.
Ghost must recognise the momentary flash of panic that crosses your face, because he reaches out and strokes a gloved thumb over your cheek. The fabric is rough against your skin, but you relax at the feeling anyway.
“You don’t have to.” He says quietly.
“I want to.” You insist, swallowing that swell of nerves.
Now that his cock is bobbing in front of your face, you have to fight the sinking feeling that you’re in over your head. But you’re not willing to back down; not when you’ve been thinking about this all damn week, and especially not when you’ve got the man that stars in all of your fantasies sitting on your bed with his legs spread.
You shuffle forward a little, and try not to feel intimidated at the fact that Ghost’s thick thighs twitch when you reach to take hold of his cock. He’s so big that it feels like he’s dwarfing you beneath him, his bulky form enveloping you in shadow when he leans forward to make sure he has a good view of what you’re doing.
You stroke experimentally over his cock, your fist a little clumsy. Despite your frenzied and very pleasurable tumble with him before, you had never actually gotten the chance to touch him in return. You had been too overwhelmed by the sheer onslaught of sensation he had delivered upon you to even think about returning any favours, and the fact that you’re getting the opportunity now to reciprocate and explore fills your tummy with butterflies.
“Grip it harder, love.” He grunts, shifting his hips so that he can fuck his cock into your fist. “It ain’t gonna break.”
“Shh,” You admonish him, glancing up with a frown. “Let me do it myself.”
Ghost snorts quietly, probably finding your determination silly, but he still his hips and lets you go at your own pace. His dick is big, and you stare at it with some level of wonder as you stroke your fist over him. You can’t help but compare the feel of him to your dildos, only because they’re your only real point of reference; his skin is velvety soft and hot to the touch, yielding despite how hard he is, and you admire the slide of his foreskin pulling down over the crown.
It’s not the size that really catches your attention though. No, what you really notice is how fucking perfect it is. Pretty and pink, flushed more red towards the tip, the head shiny with just a hint of smeared pre-come. It curves, slightly, to the left, and it feels nice in your hand. You feel a little light headed as your eyes dart over the pale blond downy hair that covers his thighs and the base of his cock.
You gather your courage, then lean in and lick tentatively at the rosy pink crown of his cock. You had been a little worried about the taste, having no idea what to expect, but you needn’t have been. He‘s a little salty, but nothing inoffensive; he just tastes like skin, and you relax a little in relief.
He groans, his head tilting back to stare at the ceiling. You pause, hoping for some sort of direction, and as the moment stretches out he looks back to you and tilts his head.
“Thought you wanted to do it yourself?”
Bastard, you grumble in your head, before steeling yourself. You know that your grip on him is clumsy, that your stroking is unpracticed, and you can only pray that he doesn’t mind.
You take his cock into your mouth, jaw hinged wide as you try to avoid using your teeth, and attempt to suck with no finesse. You go too fast, try to take too much too quickly, because all of a sudden the head is tickling the back of your throat and you’re coughing, choking, and sputtering.
You pull back, blinking rapidly as your eyes sting with tears and drool drips unattractively down your chin. You go to wipe your face, but Ghost catches your wrist before you can.
“Slow down,” He murmurs, pulling your hands away from your face so he can look at you. “You in a rush?”
“No.” You grumble, and your voice comes out a little hoarse from the choking. “I just… I don’t know what I’m doing.”
Even though you’re quite certain that Ghost already knows that, it’s a little humiliating to admit.
Ghost just hums, his eyes tracking over your petulant expression and the stringy spit that’s trickling down your chin, falling in thick globs above your tits.
“Don’t matter, love.” He rumbles, reaching out to thumb at your chin. You think for a moment that he’s wiping you clean, but then he just ends up smearing your spit all around your mouth. “Play with it as much as you want to. Don’t think too much.”
You swallow, the sound a little too loud in the quiet of your room, before nodding. This is what you wanted – the chance to touch him, to explore his mouth with your hands and mouth just like he had done with you before.
You readjust your grip on his cock; it looks so stupidly big in your hand. You can tell that he notices too, because he lets out a gruff sort of groan before he reaches out, one hand winding around the back of your neck to cup at the base of your skull.
“Yeah, that’s it.” He breathes, his eyes locked onto you.
His eyes are dark, almost completely blacked out by the thickness of his pupil, and he stares down at you with an air of such anticipation that you couldn't dream of keeping him waiting. Gripping him in your hand, you give an exploratory sort of stroke — the skin is velvety soft and smooth, and he lets out a short groan of appreciation when your fingers caress the head of his cock.
You start moving your hand again, adjusting your grip and stroking him off. You wish you were better at it, or at least more confident, but Ghost doesn’t seem to have any complaints. He just grunts quietly, flexing his hips once before apparently remembering what you had said and going still.
It takes a moment before you work up the confidence to bring it anywhere near your mouth again, but finally you lean forward and press a gentle little kiss to the head of his cock. You’re rewarded with a quiet puff of laughter, and his thumb strokes a soothing circle into the back of your neck.
Encouraged, you dip your head and lick the tip of him properly. He tastes salty on your tongue as you take him carefully into your mouth. This time you just suckle at the head, not wanting to push yourself too fast. His taste isn’t nearly as strong as you had been expecting; you hardly notice, really, enjoying the weight of his cock on your tongue and the feeling of being encircled by his big thighs.
It sounds stupid and maybe a little paradoxical, but you feel safe like this; Ghost towers over you even sitting down, and when you’re on your knees for him like this with his thick thighs bracketing you and his clean musky smell in your nose, you swear you never want to leave this moment.
You let out the most pathetic little whisper ever when you suckle at his cock, your tongue licking insistently at the underside of his glans. Ghost is always fairly stoic beneath that mask (other than his occasional bursts of humour and arrogance), so managing to pull out the soft but heavy breaths from his mouth when you suck at him makes pride swell in your chest, warm and syrupy sweet. It also makes something else twist in your belly, tight and hot enough to have your thighs squeezing tight together.
You used to have so many stupid, virginal plans for what you’d do the day you got your hands on some real, non-plastic cock, but everything you’ve ever heard about dicks and oral sex immediately flies right out of your head. You have no technique, and all you do is suck, gracelessly, trying to get as much of Ghost in your mouth as you can. You’re making loud, embarrassing slurping noises, and you’re certain that you’re drooling.
Judging by the grunts above you, Ghost has got no complaints about your technique (or lack thereof). One of his big hands reaches down to cup your face, fingers probing, testing at your jawline as it works.
“Fuck,” He snarls, tilting your chin up so he can see the way your lips are wrapped around the tip of his massive cock, “Knew you’d be good at this. Look at you, messy little thing. Fuckin’ gorgeous.”
That makes you shiver, an electric jolt that shoots right to your clit. You’re not sure what feels better; whether it’s his fat cock in your mouth or the hot wanting intensity in his eyes or the low filthy praises he’s growling.
God, you want to be good at this. You’re definitely no natural, but you fight so hard to push past your uncertainty to make this feel good for Ghost.
You’re pretty sure he’s lying about you looking gorgeous, though. You’ve never felt less sexy than you do in this moment. Your eyes are streaming over-stimulated tears, your brow is scrunched in concentration, you’re gripping onto Ghost’s thick thighs for both balance and emotional support, and it’s taking everything you have not to choke on him again.
Who the fuck gave him the right to have a cock like this? Complaining about it feels borderline blasphemous, especially when you have first hand experience of just how good he is at using it. You’re making a mess of yourself, slobbering all over him in a way that’s definitely a little gross, but you’re surprised by just how much you’re enjoying this.
You get a little too eager, because you take him a little too far down your throat and gag. You pull off quickly, choking lightly and still gasping for breath. Maybe your brain is a little oxygen-deprived, because you feel stupidly hazy.
You take a moment to recover, nuzzling dazedly into the curls of his pubic hair. Blond, of course. God, that shouldn’t be cute but it is.
The thick length of his dick might be intimidating (as proven by the ache in your throat right now), but the velvety balls nestled below seem almost paradoxically vulnerable. You’re fascinated by the sight of them; you might have been amateurishly familiar with cocks from your dildos alone, but his balls are entirely new to you.
You spend some time lavishing them with tiny licks and kisses. Ghost hums in surprised pleasure, the sound swelling to a rumbling purr when you start caressing his thighs and hips with a tender, shy touch.
Encouraged by his reaction, you return to his cock. It’s jutting proudly up, flushed a lovely pink colour, as though it’s just waiting for your attention once more. It’s already covered in a lather of foamy spit from your attention before, and when you sink your mouth down on him once again you do so with a bit more confidence.
“Like a pro, baby.” Ghost grunts appreciatively. A calloused thumb rolls over your cheek, under the fan of your lashes, and wipes away the moisture that’s gathered there.
You most certainly are not sucking his cock like a pro, but you appreciate the encouragement all the same. It’s nice to know that you’re not doing a horrific job, at least.
You spare a glance up, half-expecting Ghost’s eyes to be closed. Instead his gaze is avid, sharp, practically electric through that thin window of his balaclava. He’s watching you closely, taking in every detail like it all might be snatched away from him. It’s too intense, and you look back down, focusing on his dick again.
An outraged, possessive noise escapes you when Ghost forcibly tugs your head back, pulling his cock out of your mouth. It twitches a little once it’s been removed from the wet heat of your mouth, all shiny wet and pink, and you lick your lips. God, you want to get back on that, and you don’t understand why he’s taken it away from you.
Ghost lets out a low, breathy chuckle, reaching out to thumb at your spit-slick lower lip before reaching for your elbows and bodily hauling you back up onto the bed.
You practically bounce, falling back on the mattress and squirming to try and get your bearings again.
“No,” You say, and to your bewilderment it comes out on a sob. “I wanted you to come on my face–”
You can tell that Ghost’s expression does something strange beneath his mask because his eye twitches and he takes a deep breath. But he doesn’t put his cock back in your mouth. Instead he reaches back and pulls his shirt off, and you take a broken little inhale because last time he had fucked you, he’d hardly gotten undressed at all. But now you’re being blessed with the sight of scarred pale skin pulled taut over the thick swell of muscles that turn to a softer belly, that pale trail of curls starting just below his belly button.
“Next time.” He says, and it comes out on the ghost of a groan. “Fuck, love, next time.”
He’s quick to hook his hands under your thighs and haul them apart. You just about have time to spread your legs before he’s muscling his way between them. He tugs impatiently at his balaclava, tugging it askew to reveal his mouth, then he presses his nose into your humiliatingly slick pussy and starts sucking at your clit like it’s a hard candy.
You shriek, your thighs clamping shut around his ears as you writhe, but he clearly has no intention of stopping. The muffled moans he lets out into your cushiony cunt vibrate in the best way, and he’s so brazen about it that it just about takes your breath away. You don’t even know if he can see anything, considering his mask is completely lopsided and his eyes aren’t lined up with the holes anymore, but he’s working with such enthusiasm that it doesn’t even matter.
And honestly, his enthusiastic pussy-eating combined with the sheer visual stimulation he’s providing is really doing it for you.
You’re probably going to get a crick in your neck from the way you’re craning your head just to watch him hunch over you, that tongue of his peeking out from beneath the edge of his mask just to lick you. He’s built like a fucking god; thick muscles, soft tummy, and cushiony pecs. It might just be the hottest thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
“Oh god, fuck–!” You choke out, your cunt clenching down hard as Ghost slides a finger into you.
Of course, Ghost’s fingers are also thicker than average. A single one of them feels like what would have been two of your own and you gasp a bit at the sudden stretch. You open up easily, your body welcoming him greedily and bearing down hard around his digits. Maybe it’s because you’re used to controlling the depth, speed and angle of penetration completely when you’re playing with your toys, but relying on Ghost for pleasure feels so damn exotic and exciting. Now you can only tilt your hips and go with Ghost’s pattern of movement; a bit harder, a bit deeper than what you would have done on your own.
He pushes another finger inside and it’s snug in your cunt, two fingers squished together nicely by your pulsing walls, hot and wet. It makes a sticky sound when he pushes them knuckle-deep, and then he sucks at your clit again, hard.
You’re honestly taken aback when your stomach tightens up and a wave of white-hot pleasure washes over you. Your back bows off the bed, you cover your mouth with a balled-up fist, your chest heaves.
It’s exactly as good as you remember it being the first time, maybe even better, and the noises you make are broken and pathetic as you whine and cry.
Ghost licks you through it, big long laves of his tongue punctuated by sweet little suckles on your clit that feel almost fond. All you can do is lay there and take it, your head spinning a little as you catch your breath and try to figure out how the fuck he managed to make you come so damn quickly when you’ve been failing so spectacularly for a week.
You’ve barely finished coming, still shaking with the aftershocks, when he climbs up your body. At some point he’s shucked his trousers off, and the fact that he’s naked sends a little zing of excitement through your tired body. Or at least, as naked as Ghost tends to get. He’s still got the damn mask on.
He’s breathing heavily; his mouth is slightly ajar, mask tucked up around his crooked nose as he settles on his haunches between your thighs. He’s still staring hard at your cunt, his eyes glued to the way your clit is still twitching. He’s still so damn quiet, and you have no idea what he’s thinking.
When he reaches out to thumb at your clit again you whine. You’re sensitive, and his thumb is calloused and rough. You wiggle, lift up your leg and press your foot to his broad chest to stop him. You may as well be pushing against a brick wall for all the good it did.
Ghost just exhales a quiet laugh, capturing your ankle in his massive fist. He turns his head and kisses your ankle; the gesture is unexpectedly tender, and makes something in your chest tremble dangerously.
He uses his hold on your ankle as leverage to raise your leg, spreading your thighs out wide until your hips ache. You feel so exposed, the lips of your cunt parted ever so slightly, and he’s quick to press his cock against your still-twitching clit.
“Oh, look at her,” He breathes, low enough that you have to strain to hear. “Shite, she missed me, didn’t she?”
His hand is steady as he strokes his cock, dragging it through your sticky folds. The pretty pink head catches on your clit each time, and you let out a quiet whimper. Ghost doesn’t even notice; his eyes are zeroed in on your spread pussy, watching how you flutter around nothing.
“Fuck, she’s been waitin’ for me all week,” He coos, his cock notching at the entrance of your cunt and pressing in just enough for you to feel the stretch as his thumb rolls against your clit. “I know, baby, been waitin’ for you too.”
Jesus, you feel like you’re gonna die. You’re taking all these big deep shivering breaths, still trembling a little from your orgasm and eager for him to just fuck you already, but his filthy talk in your ear is sending you spiralling. You’re so wet it feels like you’ve sprung a leak; you can feel moisture running down your ass and under your thighs, and you burn with both mortification and desire.
Ghost presses his cock in a little further, and your back arches as you groan. Despite the orgasm and the fingering and the fact that you are so fucking aroused right now, the stretch is intense.
“Yeah, she’s beggin’ for me.” Ghost is still talking – at this point you think his words are meant just for himself, because they’re low and a little slurred, his eyes glassy as he stares at the way his cock spears through the slick folds of you. “Listen; it’s like she’s talking to me.”
For a second, you have no goddamn idea what he’s talking about. But then, in the silence, you hear the squelch of your drippy cunt as he squishes his cock against it in shallow little thrusts, barely even pressing the tip inside.
“Oh god,” You whine, high and needy. “Just– stop teasing.”
The bastard laughs, all low and gritty and a little breathless.
“It’s not teasing, lovie.” He says, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your jawline. “You’ve been avoiding me for a week straight. I’m just reacquainting myself.”
Then he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth in a move so sweet that it honestly takes you aback. Every complaint in your head flies out the window, and you turn eagerly in an attempt to deepen the kiss. His mouth is so hot, his lips plush and hungry and a little salty. It occurs to you that you’re tasting yourself in his mouth, and your body draws up tight and tense in response.
“Simon,” You breathe, intending to tell him to get a move on and just fuck you already, but you don’t even get as far as finishing the order.
He groans as though the sound of his given name is a signal, and before you know it you’ve got a huge wall of muscle hunched over you and around you as Ghost holds himself up by his elbows on either side of your head. You feel his cock prodding at the entrance of your cunt and your legs fall even further open, until your hip joints ache.
When he starts to push in, the stretch burns in a way that makes your mouth fall open as you choke on the air in your lungs. You’re wet and pliable and eager, your pussy sucking hungrily at Ghost’s dick in an effort to take him deep quickly, but you had almost forgotten what this felt like. You can’t stop the way your cunt tightens eagerly as he rocks in an inch.
He laughs lowly in your ear, has to swallow back a groan when you clench tight around him, “C’mon, stop pushing me out, darling.”
“Wait,” You gasp, reaching down to place your hand over his belly. “Wait, oh my god, you’re too big–”
His stomach muscles are tensed with the effort he's putting in to keep from rocking into you all in one go, and you spare a moment to admire his patience and his sheer resolve to make things good for you. But even though he’s obediently paused to let you catch your breath, he chuckles quietly at your reaction.
“It’s only the tip, baby.” He murmurs, cooing softly to you like you’re something easily spooked. “You’ve taken it before. This pretty little cunt of yours is so hungry, gotta let her have it.”
You nod, hesitantly. He’s right; he may be big, but you’d taken him before. Only last week. And you had been a virgin then. Well, technically. Not physically, maybe, since you’d long stretched out your hymen on your dildos, but mentally. Though at least last week you had stretched yourself out on your vibrator, and then Ghost had spent so long opening you up with his mouth and fingers.
Ghost rocks forward another inch, and the stretch makes you squeal like a fucking stuck pig. It’s mortifying. How the hell did he ever manage to fit that fat cock inside you?
You slap at his belly hard, writhing away.
“No, nope, not gonna fit.” You wheeze.
Ghost pulls back, and you can read the disappointed slant of his mouth and he reaches down to grip the base of his cock. Now that you get another look at it, you take a deep breath. It’s still well-lubed with your spit and the pink cockhead is shiny with your slick.
It’s big, but you know you can take it. You just… you need better leverage.
Your jaw clenches in determination. “I need to be on top.”
There’s a moment of silence as those words settle between you, as though Ghost’s brain is buffering. Then his lips start curving up into that semi-familiar smug smile, and he rolls the two of you over so that he’s laying on his back in your bed with you perched clumsily atop his thighs.
His cock juts up proudly, practically bobbing as it leaks prespend down his length. He settles back, folding his arms behind his head as he watches you – the position makes his biceps bulge in a way that is very appealing and also most likely unintentional.
“Go on.” He encourages, as hungry and wanting as you’ve ever heard him. “All yours, gorgeous.”
All yours, your brain repeats, the words echoing around your skull until you’re certain that your head is empty but for that. You want him so much it makes you feel dizzy.
You shuffle forward until your pussy is hovering over the blood-flushed head of his cock. The cute pink blush has started to darken into a red that looks painful, and you take a little breath at the idea of helping him out with his little problem.
You lower yourself down so that the tip of Ghost’s cock is lined up with your entrance and begins pressing in, stretching you wide and slipping in inch by inch. You gasp desperately as you’re speared open inexorably slowly, tears pricking your eyes as your mouth drops open.
Though you’re the one controlling the pace, it still seems overwhelming, all-encompassing. You can feel your cunt stretching wide and taut around the width of him, fluttering as Ghost groans in dazed appreciation.
You glance up at him, to see that his eyes are a little unfocused, missing the intensity that they’ve had all night. His gaze is flickering from the way your cunt is sliding down on his cock to your breasts to your face, so fast as if he’s trying to take it all in before it disappears.
His oversized hands come to rest on your hips, and you half expect him to pull you down impatiently on his cock. But he doesn’t, they just rest there as though he needs to ground himself. His stomach is tensed so tight you know that his abs will be sore in the morning, and to your delight you can see a lovely pink flush climbing across his lightly-haired chest.
You keep your eyes on his half-masked face as you slowly rock your way down onto the length of him, your breath occasionally hitching. Though he doesn’t rush you, you can feel the way his fingers twitch on your hips and the way his jaw grinds, and all those little tells only increase your excitement.
You’re so full you feel like you’re about to break in half, and Ghost’s gaze on you feels like a physical weight, but you don’t stop. You wiggle clumsily, trying to take him deeper and unintentionally pulling gruff groans out of him every time your body tightens.
Then, finally, you take him to the hilt. He groans, his eyes half-lidded as he watches the way your body sits perched on his lap, little tremors rocking through you as you adjust to his size inside.
“That’s my girl.” Ghost says, and the praise comes out on the edge of a growl. “Fuck, it’s like you were made for me.”
Tingling heat is growing alarmingly quickly in your lower belly and at the apex of your thighs, and you tremble over him as you use your grip on his shoulders for leverage. The soft sounds of pleasure that are pulled out of his throat every time you roll yourself against him send sparks through your entire nervous system – you’ve never heard Ghost sound so soft and wanting.
One of his hands reaches between you, one big thumb settling right over your swollen clit. You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you try to rock your hips against his hand even as you try to ease the feeling of his girth inside you.
“Would you have gone back to his quarters?” He asks, and the seemingly non-sequitur is too much for your dazed, cock-stupid mind to keep with.
“Huh?” You breathe, tentatively rocking your hips and moaning softly as his cock hits just right inside.
“The guy at the bar.” Ghost clarifies, his voice deep and a little irritated. “The one who was all over you. Would you have gone back with him?”
Oh, you think a little wryly. You should have known that he’d be a big possessive bastard.
“I don’t know.” You say, but you’re barely paying attention. You’ve started to rock for real now, and it feels good. Your rhythm is barely more than a slow grind – you think, distantly, that you should be lifting yourself up and down and fucking yourself properly, but grinding so that he hits deep and your clit rubs up against his pubic bone just feels so fucking intense.
“Waste of your time.” He grunts, his grip tight on your hips as he watches you hump lazily. “Jesus, look at the way you’re sucking me in. Cunt’s so fussy, she was just waiting for me.”
The worst part is, you think he might be right. You had been touching yourself every night this week, trying and failing to recreate the high he had brought you to. The touch just wasn’t the same, and no matter how close you got you just couldn’t fall over that damn ledge.
“Yeah,” You whine, hardly even aware of what you’re agreeing to. The sweet ache of the stretch has almost disappeared now, and you hump back onto his cock with abandon. Your chest is heaving as you pant, and you can feel your own body trying to suck him in further but there’s nowhere else to go because he’s filling you up so completely.
You tip forward, grabbing clumsily at his shoulders for balance as your face smushes against the cushiony softness of his pecs. God, he’s so strong, it’s like your body weight is nothing to him – he just accepts your whole body leaning into him, humming in satisfaction.
Tentatively, you lift yourself up a few inches so you can ease back down. You repeat the movement a few more times, and then you’ve established a steady pace of fucking yourself on his cock.
“Simon,” You gasp, and it comes out in a whimper that’s far more pathetic than you had intended. “Am I– am I doing good?”
He’s gritting his teeth – you can see the tense line of his jaw as he tilts his head back, watching your face as you bounce stumblingly on his cock.
“Like I said, lovie, you’re a natural.” He says, exhaling harshly through his nose. “Gimme a kiss.”
When you lean forward to kiss him, the angle shifts and all of a sudden he's hitting the spot that makes your knees go weak. Your thighs are already burning from the exertion of riding him, but you whine desperately.
“There.” You moan into Ghost’s mouth, the two of you sharing air as you pant against each other’s lips. “Oh god, please–”
The muscles in his thighs ripple as he lifts his hips to meet yours as you bounce down, and then all of a sudden he’s fucking into you from below. The strength in his hips almost bodily lifts you every time he fucks up, though you almost thwart his every thrust as you try to grind on him again, trying to get his cock to hit just right again.
Fuck, your legs are tired and your knees are aching, but you can feel that glorious build up in your tummy again. Ghost has taken over most of the heavy lifting now too; instead of relying on you to bounce up and down, he’s drilling into that one spot inside you that sends liquid heat shooting up your spine.
Your mouth is hanging open and you’re pretty sure that you’re drooling all over his lovely, soft chest, but it just feels so good. You don’t understand how he does this, how he makes it feel so good for you. You think, a little wildly, that maybe your cunt was made for him.
“Fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight,” Ghost grunts, and his chest rumbles beneath your smushed cheek. “Gonna come again for me, sweetheart? Go on, cream on me.”
You didn’t actually think you were that close to another orgasm, despite how good it feels, but maybe Ghost knows you and your pussy better than you know yourself because you feel yourself go tight and gushy, nonsensical gasping and babbling spilling from your lips. The soft squelching noises your pussy makes as his cock fucks up into you is obscene, enough to make your nipples go tight and tingly.
Then his thumb rolls hard against the swollen bud of your clit and you’re gone. You think you might actually scream, but it’s muffled against the now drool-covered expanse of his thick, bulging pecs.
You let out a choked out wail as your orgasm rips through you like an electric shock, leaving you trembling madly in its wake. You swear you come apart completely, unravelling at the edges as you writhe in his lap, grinding wildly even as he continues to fuck you through it.
You don’t get even a moment of reprieve, because Ghost keeps going through the waves of your orgasm. He pulls you up to kiss you, sloppy and dirty, and then starts thrusting for all he’s worth. You’re put in mind of bull-riding, and your thighs clench hard as you try to stay seated as he bucks against you.
It's the most unravelled you’ve ever seen him. Ghost is always cool and in control, always meeting everything with smug, arrogant confidence. To see him glowing with sweat, his mouth lolled open under his rumpled balaclava as he snarls and grunts and fucks into you like an animal feels like a drug so heady you know you’re already addicted.
This is not the lazy rhythm of before; he’s uncoordinated and frantic, kissing you hard and messy as he shoves his cock up into you so hard that you’re sure it’s going to leave a permanent impression inside you. Maybe that’s what he’s aiming for. You take it easily, split open and pliant and soft and wet.
You’re oversensitive and shivery, breathing hard and whimpering on every other thrust, but you don’t complain. It only takes a handful of thrusts before Ghost finishes with a bitten off snarl, his jaw clenching and head tipping back as he pulls you off him just in time for his cock to spurt several thick ropes of creamy cum between you. Most of it lands on your belly, dripping down onto your pussy like icing on a cake, but some of it spurts onto Ghost’s own soft belly too.
It makes a mess, but you don’t care. You feel so dreamy-floaty happy right now, your limbs floppy and rubbery as you slump down onto his chest. He catches you easily, and lays you down gently onto the bed.
You grumble when he moves, but you remember this part from last time. You don’t bother opening your eyes; you know he’ll come back.
Sure enough, he returns within moments, and you feel a warm, wet cloth wiping at your belly and inner thighs. You part your legs, pleased with the feeling of being looked after. When you blink your eyes open again, you see that he’s pulled the mask back down to cover his lovely, talented mouth. You try not to be too disappointed over that. His eyeblack is smeared too; it gives the impression of total debauchery.
“You alright, love?” He asks, and you realise that you’ve just been staring blankly at him.
“Yeah.” You mumble, stretching your body out like a cat. Now that you’ve been given a moment, you can feel all those little aches flare to life between your legs, around your hips, and up the base of your spine. You wince, but don’t complain.
To your delight, Ghost climbs back into bed with you. He’s a little too big for the standard issue frame, but you’re more than happy to roll on top of him and cuddle close to conserve space. He seems similarly happy to have you all laid out on his chest, because he presses his masked face to the top of your head and inhales slowly.
“Are you staying, this time?” You ask quietly. You think you know the answer after your conversation earlier, but you can’t quite help the little pulse of insecurity.
“As long as you’ll have me.” He says, low in the quiet of the room. His tone is thick with significance, like he’s talking about more than just staying the night, and his fingers are sure and steady as he traces absent-minded little patterns down the length of your spine.
You swallow, heart racing, and rest your cheek against his chest. The steady thump, thump, thump of his own heart soothes you, and you bite your lip. He’s so solid, reliable. You’d trust him with your life, with anything.
You glance down, your eyes curiously seeking out his now softening cock. It’s laying in a bed of his blond curls at his crotch, and it looks so unthreatening when it’s flaccid. You admire the shape of it absently, feeling a little thrill of excitement at the sight of it. You can’t lie to yourself and say you don’t feel a little possessive, either.
“Are we dating now?” You ask quietly. You’re not able to look him in the eye when you ask it, so you keep your face turned down. You don’t think you could handle seeing his expression if his answer is no.
There’s a pause. His hand halts the sweet patterns he’d been drawing on your back.
“Was that a question for me, or my cock?” He asks. He seems to be aiming for his usual sort of dry humour, but his tone comes out a little guarded, as though he’s actually not sure.
You raise your head, stifling your insecurity, and make eye contact with him. Those pretty brown eyes, so warm when they’re looking at you like this.
“You,” You say.
There’s another pause, and then his hand starts tracing its way over your bare back again.
“Yeah,” Ghost says, and the corners of eyes crinkle. “Stuck with me now, lovie.”
#okayyyy here we go!#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod smut
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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