#and i saw them doing that since i was beelining for them

[sullina]

i think part of what makes so many people just flock to dungeon meshi as well is that it's also a story involving an autistic main character, who actually IS the main character

Because many stories will have an autistic character in them and then the story is more about how all the neurotypical people AROUND the autistic character deal with the characters autism, and the autistic character ends up as a side-character in a story that's supposed to be ABOUT them.

But in dungeon meshi, Laios especially is so much the main character! And i know he's not the only one, and not the only autistic character obv, and i know the story isn't about just him alone OR his autism...

But we get Laios' perspective. On just about everything. The story is, in the roughest terms, about the party venturing into the dungeon in order to save Falin, who got eaten by the red dragon. They're on a time constraint and have no money or equipment except what they literally have on their backs. That's the story.

Another author, a worse author, probably wouldn't have made Laios the party leader. A worse author would've relegated Laios to the "weird, awkward newbie who's excited about monsters but doesn't have the slightest clue or experience with them" who's job would've been to cite fun facts about whatever monster they encounter from some book he carries around, and the main interactions between him and the party would've been them yelling at him or calling him weird, to the point where you're wondering what this characters purpose even is in the story beyond comic relief.

And I'm so glad we didn't get this.

Instead of a story that emphasizes how "weird and unlikable" this weird character is, we get Laios being the partys leader, who, yes, is weird, but also competent and knowledgable and skilled and also is still a full character, with thoughts and feelings of his own, who actually speaks his mind and interacts with others on equal footing, who defends himself when he KNOWS he isn't in the wrong.

Laios and Shuros confrontation is both shocking, and also a huge breath of fresh air.

(Also, i know that "Shuro" isn't his real name but i can't remember his real name and I can't be bothered to look it up rn)

Shuro tells Laios to learn to read the room. A worse author would've had Laios apologize to Shuro for his own incompetence, but instead of meekly accepting that accusation, Laios throws it back in Shuros own face. That Shuro should've just been direct and honest with Laios when he KNEW that Laios wasn't getting it, instead of just playing along and letting that resentment fester.

And Laios is not only shouting it out, speaking his mind, and refusing to be treated as lesser than anyone else just because he can't "read the room", but he's also portrayed as RIGHT! Shuro would've have had to put up with Laios, whom he didn't like, but whom he let believe that they were friends, if he had just TOLD Laios he didn't like him DIRECTLY.

and look, i know that there's some hints or pages or whatever you wanna call them, that Shuro is also autistic, but comes with a different background, which basically just makes him and Laios incompatible in a certain sense.

But even with all that, Shuro still had no right to fault Laios for his shortcomings, when his own shortcomings played just as much of a role in their eventual confrontation. And the difference? Shuro KNEW how he himself AND Laios felt, but Laios only knew how he himself felt. Shuro was at an advantage in their situation, and he still faulted Laios and made him out to be this villain, who was purposely trying to make Shuro miserable, when Shuro himself NEVER opened his mouth to correct Laios!

And the thing is, Shuro isn't in the wrong for not liking Laios. Shuro is in the wrong for blowing up at Laios without EVER even giving him the chance to correct his behaviour!

And Laios KNOWS this, and he REFUSES to just apologize for something that wasn't even his fault! How could he possibly have known Shuro didn't like him, when Shuro never gave him any kind of indication of that fact?

And that's just it, isn't it?

Because I know I've experienced this kind of situation, even if exact memories don't come to mind, and I know other autistic or otherwise neurodivergent people have experienced this kind of thing. Of someone whom they were just having a normal conversation with or whom they considered a friend, just randomly blowing up at them for no conceivable reason. From our perspective, the other person just randomly decided they didn't like us anymore, didn't care about us anymore and wanted to be rid of us, or decided we were suddenly just evil, and they got mad at us, yelled at us, called us names, and then just left. And we're left confused and sad and, having no other information to go off of, because none was given to us, are bound to come to the conclusion that there's something wrong with us. We're just not likeable and any kindness from other people coming our way is just them being too polite to say anything until they've decided they had enough of us and abandon us. Because they never liked us. They were just too polite to say anything until they couldn't take us anymore.

[todayisafridaynight]

through all the practice sawashiro fights ive done this morning ive decided he has a really weird grudge against eri for whatever reason

[oceantornadoo]

inspired by a dramoine fic i read! simon riley x f!reader

it’s the third time today someone has handed you simon’s paperwork and you’re starting to get confused. in fact, there’s the distinct feeling that you’ve missed a memo.

first, it was the visiting captain, so you couldn’t blame him for confusing lieutenants. but then it was johnny turning in his mission report, muttering something about “cannae be late this time if ah give it ye, lass.” which was odd, considering you weren’t his direct report (you were gaz’s). but what really sent you over the edge was getting called into price’s office and being met with a load of folders addressed to one Lt. Ghost (Confidential).

“sir, i’m a bit confused as to why you can’t just give these to him yourself.” price looked up from his desk, eyes flickering from under his boonie hat. “hav’ you seen ‘im today, lieutenant?” you nodded immediately while trying to scoop all of this paperwork (that was not yours!) into your arms. “yessir, i saw him before breakfast and then during training and then…what?” price had silently quirked an eyebrow, his beard echoing the movement. “i haven’t seen ‘im all day, so i figure it’s faster for you to deliver since you’re more well-versed in his movements than i am.” huh. “i’m sure he’s just doing his ghost thing, y’know? slipping into shadows and…”, price patiently gave you an exasperated look, “but i’ll get these to him, sir. see you later!”

the problem was, you knew exactly where simon was. in your office.

his own had an unfortunate ground level window near the track, so he was always complaining about nosy recruits until you offered to share some office space. temporarily, of course. it’s not like you were using all the empty space anyways and it made it much easier to get the opinion of your fellow lieutenant on a report by walking over to his desk, rather than going up and down stairs. that was the second point he made, and who were you to say no?

after pushing open your office door, you beelined for simon’s desk, dumping the stacks of folders on his desk. “wot’s this?” his mask was off so you could see his eyes widen at the mess of papers. “everyone now thinks i’m a drop off box for your paperwork, so i got burdened with all of this when i was doing my rounds.” he nodded thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea. “cheers, love.”

“what do you mean, cheers? don’t you think it’s odd for them to give me your paperwork? and why do we even have so much paperwork? i swear im drowning in it this week.” he snorted at your last sentence, opening the first folder in front of him while you rounded your desk, sitting in your comfy chair with a hmpf. “yer out an’ about more than me, tha’s all.” well, that was true. the infamous ghost was not known to be a sociable person on base. “i guess…” you turned to your old radio, passed down by a retired captain, and turned on simon’s favorite classical station.

“ya want mess or the pub tonight, love?” another great thing about being on base with simon - you never had to pay for dinner. “actually, that thai place we like is doing a special tonight.” he gave you a half-smirk, one cheek ticking up. “bloody raccoon. we had thai two nights ago.” you didn’t respond, instead blinking your best impression of puppy dog eyes at him. simon sighed, then shook his head at his desk. “olrigh’. the things i do.” you smiled and winked, dipping your head back down to your desk. “thanks, si.”

-

two weeks later, you were prepping for a duo mission with simon. price had been grilling the two of you for the past three hours, making sure you had everything memorized. satisfied, he leaned back in his office chair and rubbed his temples, the feeling of a headache coming on. “one more thing.” both of you snapped your head up at price, desperate to leave and eat. you’d already missed dinner and your stomach was complaining.

“the safe house is pretty small, basically a shack. one bed, no couch. i assumed ‘s fine since y’r datin-“ “‘s fine, captain.” simon cut him off, an out of character move that had you frowning. “it’s fine, cap. not like ive never slept on a floor before.” now price was frowning at what you said. he turned to simon, who shook his head imperceptibly before becoming still again. price’s brow furrowed but he didn’t push further. he got up from his chair, eyes flitting suspiciously between you two. “i’ll see you at 0600.”

“what was that about?” you whispered to simon after as you walked down the hall. “‘s nothin’.” you were missing something but it was so unclear what. “he thinks that we’re datin-“ “said it’s nothin’, sweetheart. he’s an old man. let’s get some food in you, yeah?” you nodded, letting him guide you to the kitchen. price wasn’t that old. and you were not dating simon riley.

-

the mission was beautiful, your best one in years. it was the first duo mission between you and simon, so the nerves of pulling your own weight had settled in hard. thankfully, your skills balanced each other out and you’d gotten the target in record time. now, all you had to do was wait in the safe house for exfil.

“you were so good.” you whispered once he’d locked the door. he only hummed a response, checking exit and entry points while you set up your packs, scrounging up MREs and testing the shack for electricity. price wasn’t kidding - it was practically a studio apartment. one bed, a bathroom and a decrepit stove. the soldier part of you was fine with it, but that small soft part of you ached for the warmth of your apartment. memories of yelling at simon for using all your shampoo even though he didn’t live there, of him running you a bath after a long day of training.

“you were good too, baby.” he snuck up from behind your spot on the floor and lifted you onto the mattress that had definitely seen better days. you hadn’t even checked it for bed bugs yet. “c’mere.” he pulled you into his lap, unbuckling your tac vest as you pulled off your bandana. you tugged off his mask - the hard shell since you were on a mission - and ran your nails through his short haircut. simon started kissing your neck, wet and sloppy like he couldn’t get enough. the unrestrained want he displayed sometimes scared you. the respective pulsing in both your chest and cunt scared you more.

“so are you sleeping on the floor or am i?” he flipped you over, your back flush with the mattress as simon loomed over you. there was still eyeblack around his eyes, caught on his blonde eyelashes as well, and you couldn’t help the hand that reached up to brush some of it away. “y’r funny, sweetheart.” you grinned at that - a real toothy smile. he bent down to kiss you, scarred lips caressing your own. simon bit your lip and you moaned, sliding your legs out from under him to wrap them around his torso. when you tugged him in he went willingly, grinding into your clothed cunt. his tac vest was still on, scraping against your shirt, hardening your nipples.

“keepin’ you in this bed all night.” cold fingers dipped past the waist of your pants. you were already wet, his fingers sliding easily up and down your slit as they warmed up. that’s when you realized he still had his glove on, his movements harsher than normal. wide eyes met his own, and simon stopped so you could make a decision.

it didn’t take much as you dug your heels into his back harder, meeting him in a sloppy kiss as his gloved thumb played with your clit. “fuckin’ made for me.” he whispered, and you chalked it up to dirty talk because obviously, you weren’t together. he just knew exactly what to do, giving your clit the right amount of pressure as his other fingers teased your hole, the stretch burning more than usual. it only took a few flicks and you were off, your orgasm settling through your bones like a warm cup of tea. “jesus, si.” he grinned, his scarred lips pulling up to show a beautiful smile. “know ya like th’ back of my hand, huh?” you shook your head, capturing the idiot in another kiss.

-

after the mission, after debrief and a hot shower, you made your way back to your base office. thankfully, paperwork had only slightly piled up. one envelope stood out though - a thick card-stock with glossy, swooping letters. an invite to london’s military gala, addressed to a Lieutenant & Lieutenant. simon’s name was next to yours, connected by a singular symbol. you turned to him in disbelief. simon had been going through his own backlog, but his head snapped up under the focus of your glare.

“simon, are we…dating?”

-

this was fun!!! check out the fic i linked it was so good and i couldn’t put it down.

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight Series’)

For the first time in a long time, Simon feels as if he’s walking on eggshells

He’s 6’4”, easily over 200 pounds of bulking muscle, strikes fear into the heart of each and every enemy he comes across (should they live to tell the tale that is), and yet he feels as though he’s tiptoeing, practically dancing around the issue he refuses to address

Yet you make him feel this way

It’s been months now, of this dance you still haven’t realized you’re apart of, shining on centre stage under the constant spotlight of Simon Riley’s attention, rather than one of the background performers as you seem to believe

He feels as though he’s done everything he can to get the point across to you, other than literally getting down on one knee and asking you those four special words he can’t seem to get himself to speak out loud

As easy as it is to pretend you two truly are husband and wife ‘til death do you part, he’s instead having to watch you leave base in exchange for your lonely flat each night, reminded of the fact that he’s not ballsy enough to just come out and say it to you

You make the Lieutenant nervous for fucks sake, something he hasn’t truly felt in so long he’s grasping for straws, searching for a life raft in these uncharted waters to help him stay afloat

That’s part of why he’s so confused when Gaz finally joins him and Soap in the gun range, landing a friendly smack across the taller man’s broad shoulders, saying something about how he’s ‘really happy for you LT, finally properly asked her, aye?’

“What are you goin’ on about?” Ghost practically grunts out, readjusting the weapon against his shoulder as he glances through the scope of his gun, only partly interested in what the Sergeants answer is, that is until he hears him mention your name

“Just saw her at her desk, talkin’ about how she has a wedding this weekend-” Gaz has barely finished his sentence before Ghost is whipping his skull clad head around, shoving his weapon into Soap’s arms, and beelining out of the armoury towards you, leaving a pair of chuckling Sergeants behind him

They’ve never seen their Lieutenant so whipped before. And the fact that you don’t even know you have this beast of a man wrapped around your dainty little finger makes it all the more entertaining for them

They totally haven’t taken bets on how long it takes for him to break and finally confess his feelings, and Price definitely didn’t put money down on it either

Ghost may as well float into the room on a cloud he’s feeling so overjoyed at the idea of finding you sat at your desk all pretty, chit chatting away with colleagues about the wedding you’ve finally realized he intends to give you, taking all the pressure off of him

Instead, he rounds the corner and overhears the last tidbits of your conversation, pretending as though his stomach doesn’t drop out of him and onto the floor when he realizes you’re telling your desk mate about your sisters wedding this weekend

He should’ve know better, it wouldn’t be that easy

��-not that I’m embarrassed to go without someone. That I don’t care so much about.” He hears you explain, failing to have noticed him behind you quite yet. “God knows it’s been ages since I’ve gone on an actual date anyways. But this is the first time I’m a bridesmaid, and my sister keeps saying I’m apparently the only bridesmaid without a date-”

“Well aren’t you going to bring your husband?” Your colleague asks, cutting you off. Just like everyone else on base, she knows thinks you are in fact Mrs Riley, for all intents and purposes. You open your mouth to correct her and tell her you don’t have a husband, when a deep voice comes up behind you and speaks first.

“‘Course she is.” Ghost replies for you, coming to stand behind you in your chair, sneaking a gloved hand onto your shoulder to offer a slight squeeze of acknowledgment. You lean your head back to glance up at him, offering a soft smile that melts his heart more and more each time he’s lucky enough to see it, to be the reason for it. Sensing she’s now the odd one out, your coworker quietly excuses herself and goes to find someone else to talk water cooler gossip with.

“Oh Ghost! Hi!” You say, reaching your own hand up to squeeze his in return, smile widening when you notice the crinkles next to his eyes that you hope mean he’s smiling as well under the mask. “Oh, you really don’t have to. I mean- I wouldn’t want you to waste a day off just to sit through a stranger’s wedding for who knows how many hours. I barely want to go.”

You try to joke about it, but this really has been causing you unnecessary stress. Your sister apparently doesn’t have enough wedding planning on her plate as it is, seeing as she has enough time to constantly pester you about whether you’ve secured a date yet or not, despite your answer always being no. She knows it’s been forever since you’ve dated anyone seriously, and that finding a date will be more of a chore than showing up without one and enduring your relative comments and questions.

Each time you told her no though, your mind wandered to the tall, dark, muscular man who liked to call himself your husband, imagining the looks on your family’s face if you were to show up with Ghost on your arm. But you never bothered to ask him, not wanting to force him into extending his kindness and charade of a happily married couple outside of work hours.

“I’d be with you for those ‘who knows how many hours?’” Ghost asks, quoting you, watching as you offer him a simple nod in return. “Then that’s the farthest thing from a waste o’ time in my books, love.”

As simple as that, the plan was set. Ghost would be your date to the wedding that weekend.

Now, Ghost was used to not having very much to look forward to in life. He could look forward to a hot shower occasionally, look forward to good pub food instead of mess hall dinners, look forward to a chance to sleep in a little later, simpler things of the sort.

But when you came into his life, he was suddenly looking forward to equally simple, but different things. He looked forward to reading your cute replies to his good morning and good night texts (he still never misses a single one, all these months later), looked forward to seeing your sweet smile greeting him when you arrived to work, looked forward to hearing your pleased hum when you took your first sip of whatever drink he prepared you that day. Essentially, he looked forward to seeing you.

Now though, he feels as if this weekend cannot come soon enough, finding himself practically giddy he’s looking forward to spending more time with you off base so much, feeling like a kid who’s itching to get their hands on their new Christmas gifts.

When he arrives at your flat almost a half hour too early (he just couldn’t wait anymore lovie, you can’t blame the poor man), and you open the door to greet him, he doesn’t think it’s fair to compare this to a gift under the Christmas tree.

No. It’s more like he’s won the goddamn lottery.

Standing before him, is the most beautiful, breathtaking vision he’s ever laid eyes upon in all his years. He half wonders if his knees are legitimately beginning to wobble where he stands, he feels so weak in the knees as he gazes upon you in your doorway. It’s still just you, the same woman he’s been seeing every day and dreaming of each night.

But you don’t look like you have every day these past months. Your hair is styled differently, your make up is a little more done up, and the thing that’s really got his mind reeling, is that instead of your regular work attire, you’re wearing a dress so stunning he half wonders whether or not you are the bride this evening. There’s no possible way someone so beautiful is expected to stand on the sidelines tonight, expected to be anyone apart from the star of the show, the centre of his the world.

You don’t take much notice of the way Ghost fails to greet you properly, standing outside your door and practically gawking at you, seeing as you’re preoccupied doing the same to him. His usual fatigues and black everything have been swapped out for black dress pants, a white button up shirt (your eyes definitely do not linger on the top three buttons being left undone, nope, not at all) and a black blazer, matching black surgical mask in exchange for the typical skeleton mask.

You two blushing, bumbling idiots in secret love manage to pull yourselves together enough to make the drive up to the venue, the car ride filled with laughter, stories, and too many stolen glances to count, each of you wishing you could pull the car over somewhere and jump each others bones instead.

At the venue, you go through the obligatory introductions with your family, simply so they couldn’t say you didn’t say hello at least once throughout the busy night, only partially intent on ignoring them later on. They’re left understandably stunned at the mention that the man beside you is your husband, and when your family members begin unloading question after question, the two of you manage to find a quick excuse each time to dash off, giggling and holding onto the other as you weave the growing crowd of guests, all too proud of your little inside joke.

You regretfully tell him that you’ll have to leave him to sit alone throughout the ceremony, though he insists you shouldn’t worry about it, lifting your spirits momentarily when he jokes that you should focus more on not tripping during your walk down the aisle, before the both of you are left bright red in the face at hearing him talking about you walking down an aisle, as if you don’t pretend to be married every day to begin with.

He truly doesn’t mind having to sit on the tiny foldable chairs that make up the seating for the ceremony, it’s only a small portion of the evening after all. And besides, his eyes certainly aren’t on the couple reciting their vows up at the altar. No, his gaze is on one person and one person only. From the moment the music kicked in and pairs of bridesmaids and groomsmen stepped out to walk the aisle in their matching attire and matching smiles, his eyes have been locked on you, just as yours have been locked on his.

His size certainly helped you pick him out of the crowd with more ease, finding him amongst the familiar and unfamiliar faces instantly, as though gravity was pulling your gaze in his direction alone. Later on, neither of you could even correctly point out amongst the groomsmen whose arm you were holding on to as you walked, attention only focused on each other.

Even as you stood up front, listening to your sister and new brother in law profess their love for the other, you tried your best to appear as though you were paying them your full attention, considering you were standing up at the front and all. But it was as though you could literally feel Ghost’s eyes on you the entire ceremony, unable to stop your eyes from straying towards him more times than was surely appropriate, feeling the heat of a blush creep over your cheeks every time you saw how devastatingly handsome he was today.

By the time the newlyweds are marching back down the aisle past their cheering loved ones, wedding party in tow, your eyes are no longer pretending to look anywhere other than at him. And Simon is looking back at you, but his mind is growing preoccupied, thinking of how he can finally ensure you’ll let him walk you down the aisle now.

Because in the glove compartment of the very car he drove you up here in, only inches away from your knees the entire drive, he’s tucked away a small little box, containing the exact ring you chose from the jeweller all those weeks ago. He carries it with him everywhere, eager for the moment, the opportunity to be lucky enough to truly call himself your husband and slip the band over your finger as his wife.

And he’s decided that tonight is the night he tells you.

The night he tells you this has never been a joke to him, never been anything apart from what he really wants to be true from the moment he saw you.

To call you his wife.

[the-sunflower-room]

scared half to death

🌪️tyler owens x fem!reader 

☆ genre: angst, fluff, friends to lovers

☆ wc: 2.7k

☆ summary: tyler owens is not easily angered, but when the love of his life runs into an incoming tornado without a second thought, his emotions get the better of him.

☆ warnings: a very upset tyler, yelling, language

note: so i watched twisters and it was actually everything to me! the brainrot is bad and i’ve been wanting to write for tyler ever since i saw it, so here it is! this is very much the idiots in love trope because it’s one of my favorites. enjoy! :)

“Where is she?”

Tyler isn’t sure if he’s ever felt this angry before. He considers himself a fairly easy going man, always quick to make light of a situation and put everyone in the room at ease with his charming, joking nature.

But this was different. This had his heart pounding, his ears ringing. His face is flushed red and he feels like he can hardly breathe.

All because of her.

He slams the door of his truck, approaching his crew in the gas station parking lot with a look on his face that’s so completely un-Tyler that it makes them all shift uneasily.

“Where’s…who?” Boone tries weakly, unsuccessful in his attempt to play dumb. Lily rolls her eyes and elbows him in the ribs, shooting him a glare.

Tyler clenches his jaw, for once not in the mood for his friends’ antics. “You know damn well who I’m talking about.”

They all exchange glances, his uncharacteristic demeanor both surprising and concerning. This isn’t the calm, charismatic frontman of the Tornado Wranglers they’re used to.

“She’s in the RV, but I don’t think-��� Dani begins, but he’s already beelining for the camper before they can finish. He can hear his heartbeat pulsing in his ears as he nearly bursts through the door, finding her sitting at the small table in the back with her head in her hands.

Her gaze snaps up at the sound of his entrance into the RV, and her face immediately drops when she sees him practically fuming. “Tyler-” she says urgently, instantly on her feet as he approaches as if she’s about to defend herself. But he isn’t having any of it.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking out there?” He seethes, suddenly towering over her with his jaw clenched and hands on his hips. She swallows thickly, nervous around this version of him. Terrified to have upset him, disappointed him.

“Tyler, I promise, I was just trying to do the right thing-” she starts again, her tone practically pleading, but he just scoffs. 

“The right thing?” He questions in disbelief, cutting her off with a shake of his head. “You call nearly getting yourself killed in the field ‘doing the right thing’?”

She squeezes her eyes shut at the reminder of what she’d done, at the venom in his voice that’s ordinarily so gentle when directed at her. Memories of what had transpired nearly 20 minutes ago flood her mind and she feels a lump forming in her throat.

“I couldn’t let our data get lost,” she whispers weakly, her gaze glued to the floor in shame. “Bullshit,” he mutters, jaw clenched as his breath picks up. His eyes search her face, grasping to understand why the hell she had risked her life the way she had.

“You don’t run into the path of an incoming EF3 to recover some stupid equipment for our disruption research,” he practically spits, his voice growing louder, more emotional.

“That equipment is completely replaceable. You sure as hell aren’t. So I want to know why on god’s green earth you thought it was a good idea to run headfirst into danger like that.”

Her breath hitches, her eyes welling up with unshed tears at the reminder of her brashness. She feels ashamed and almost embarrassed as Tyler practically berates her.

They were best friends, a pair that the rest of the team liked to call the “dynamic duo.” With a shared passion for tornadoes and a taste for danger, they had instantly clicked from the moment they met during a chase a few years ago, becoming inseparable. Which is why Tyler’s harsh reminder of her stupidity stung so painfully.

She wasn’t used to hearing him so upset, so emotional in the worst way. With her, his tone was always soft, teasing, sometimes so overtly flirty that it would leave her heart pounding and her cheeks flushed.

But this was different. Now his gaze was harsh, curses unnaturally tumbling from his lips as she struggled to explain herself. And she hated every moment of his scrutinizing stare.

“You’ve worked so hard on putting together the equipment for the disruption research. I didn’t want you to have to start from scratch…not after all the effort you went through,” she explains pathetically, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions begin to shine through.

Tyler shakes his head, stepping even closer into her space. “And you thought it was worth risking your life for?” He grits out, his furrowed brow and downturned lips looking so unnatural on his normally smiling face.

Another shuddering breath escapes her as she catches herself from revealing the true reason she’d been so careless, from baring her soul and telling him that she’d run into the path of an incoming tornado because she loved him more than anything. That the thought of his disappointed face, his devastation over months of work lost to an unpredictably large tornado, hurt her so much that she would have done anything to save that equipment.

Anything to make him happy, to be the hero that he was to her.

“I- I didn’t get hurt, I knew I had time to get at least some of it-” she stammers, but she can’t get the words out.

“You didn’t have time!” He practically yells, gripping her shoulders and giving her a gentle shake. His eyes are wide, his gaze burning as he stares down at her.

“If Boone hadn’t been close by with his truck, you could’ve easily not made it. You could’ve died,” he chokes out, his grip on her tightening. His eyes are watering now, his anger fizzling out into something more desperate, more panicked.

Tyler still remembers the pure, unadulterated fear he’d felt as she slipped out of the safety of his truck before he could stop her, sprinting out into the open field where the winds and torrential rain were getting worse by the second.

He remembers the devastated scream of her name that had ripped itself from his chest, lost to the howling winds.

He sure as hell can’t forget the feeling of overwhelming fear and helplessness that overtook him when the rain became so intense that he could not longer see her, no longer assure himself that she hadn’t been sucked up into the raging funnel or hurt by the flying debris.

It was only when he got radio confirmation from Boone five minutes later, stating that she was safe in their truck with some of the equipment intact, that he even knew she was alive.

It had been the most hopeless, terrifying five minutes of his life.

“Don’t you understand what you mean to everyone? What you mean to me?” He rasps, his voice quieter now, more broken. “Some stupid equipment for an experiment isn’t worth your life, Y/N. Not in the least.”

His eyes are tender now as they rake over her face, scanning the scrapes and cuts littering her cheeks, the patch of dried blood clinging to her temple. His heart aches at the thought of her getting hurt, even if the injuries are small.

She notices that nearly all of his anger has left his body, replaced by the emotion that had truly been brewing beneath the surface: crippling fear at the possibility of losing her.

A silent tear runs down her face at his softer, more vulnerable words, her heart breaking as she realizes the effect her thoughtless actions have had on the man she loves. He’s quick to gently wipe it away with the pad of his thumb, his touch lingering on her cheek as he gazes at her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice breaking as she chokes back a sob. In an instant, he’s enveloping her in his tight, comforting hold, cradling her head to his chest and pulling her so close to him that their bodies are practically molded together.

“Shhh…it’s alright, sweetheart,” he gently hushes, his hand stroking through her hair as she cries softly against him. He’s back to himself now, all anger and frustration long abandoned in favor of his naturally calm, caring demeanor. Through her tears, she feels herself flushing slightly at his term of endearment.

“I’m the sorry one. I shouldn’t have yelled at ya, you didn’t deserve it,” he murmurs into her ear, his arms tightening around her.

He internally berates himself for defaulting to anger when she had also probably been scared and upset. But thinking she had died in that tornado just for attempting to recover his equipment had struck something so deep within him that his brain had reacted irrationally.

He stews in his remorse for a moment longer before admitting a truth that might be a little too vulnerable, a little too revealing of his deep and unwavering love for her, but he has to get it off his chest.

“…You just scared me half to death, darlin’. I can’t lose you...I can’t. It would tear me apart worse than a damn tornado ever could.” His whispered words are so raw and tinged with devastation that her breath hitches against his chest.

Slowly, she peels herself away from his comforting embrace to get a good look at him, and what she finds makes her heart clench in her chest. 

His eyes are red and glassy, obvious signs that he’d been crying. His muscles are taught with anxiety, like every fiber in his body had been tense ever since she fled his truck. His hair is slightly tousled and she instantly knows he’d been running his hand through it the way he does when he’s stressed.

The thought that she could cause him this much worry, this much pain, sucks the breath from her lungs and makes her feel dizzy.

“I only tried to save the equipment because I knew how important the research was to you,” she whispers, her voice still shaky but full of sincerity.

“I know how much it means to you, finding a way to keep these tornadoes from causing so much damage to innocent lives. I just- I wanted to do something brave and selfless for you, the way you always have for me,” she admits softly, swallowing as she meets his gaze.

His lips part slightly at her admission, the reverence in her words staggering. Hearing that she cares for him, finds him brave and selfless, wants to return the way he makes her feel, fills his heart with a love so deep he feels like he’s drowning in it.

“Y/N, you’re-” he rasps, pausing to clear his throat when he hears how raw and weak his voice sounds.

“You’re so damn sweet. Your heart is so big. That’s what I love about you. But please, don’t be as stupid as me. I throw myself headfirst into danger so much because I don’t think first…my judgement gets clouded by the thought of helping someone and I get tunnel vision. Which has put me in one too many potentially life-ending scenarios,” he murmurs, his hands squeezing her slightly as they rest on her shoulders.

“I can’t- I won’t let you be that careless. You mean too much to me.”

Her eyes widen at the tenderness in his voice, the affection and worry dripping from every word. It feels like their conversation is breaching on something deeper, something much more vulnerable and terrifying.

Her mind is hung up on his soft that’s what I love about you. Even hearing the word love directed at her from the mouth of Tyler Owens makes her head spin and her face heat up, and she’s unsure if she’s even breathing anymore.

“Tyler…” she manages, her voice threatening to break with the overwhelming swirl of emotions running through her. She can’t help herself, knows that she’s finally going to put it out there, tell him how she feels no matter how scary it might be.

“I love-” his lips are on hers before she can even finish. The sensation of Tyler kissing her is unlike anything she’s ever felt, and she’s damn sure she never wants him to stop.

His large hand tenderly cups her cheek while the other snakes into her hair, tangling his fingers through the strands as he pulls her even closer. She gasps softly as his grip tightens, his lips moving against her own with an almost feral desperation.

The salt from her tears mixes with his sweet taste – something like honey and peppermint – and she melts further into him and his warmth. She can feel him pour every ounce of his turbulent, pent-up emotions into the kiss, and it leaves her completely breathless.

He’s waited for this moment for so long, and after thinking he’d lost her today, he’d be content to just kiss her like this for the rest of time. Reassuring himself that’s she’s still there, that she’s his. Showing her what she means to him.

Finally getting a grip on his emotions, Tyler pulls away for a moment, wanting to make sure he hasn’t misread the signs, misinterpreted what he’d felt brewing between them for so long.

But a wide, disbelieving grin spreads across her face as she fights to catch her breath, and he suddenly has no doubt that she’s been his all along.

“I’ve been waiting for that for- well, I don’t even know how long,” she laughs breathlessly, slightly woozy from his intoxicating taste.

He huffs a laugh in return, his eyes shining with an overwhelming adoration for the woman before him. “Yeah…I think Boone might owe Dexter and Lily some money,” he jokes softly, his thumb gently brushing her rain-soaked hair away from her face.

His eyes roam over her, taking in every inch of her muddy clothes, her scraped up hands, the shallow cut on her temple. Regret courses through him at the way he’d raised his voice at her, even if it had been out of fear of losing her.

“Are you sure you weren’t hurt?” He murmurs, his voice lower and more serious than before. She gently nods, her hand moving to rest on top of his own as it cups her face.

“I’m ok, promise. It’s just a little scrape from slipping in the mud,” she reassures him, sensing his lingering gaze on her slightly bloodied face. She can practically feel the apprehension in his stare, his constant worry for her well-being so endearing that she just wants to kiss him again and again.

“I promise, Ty. And I swear, I won’t do anything like that again. I just got lost in the moment and didn’t think before acting.” He nods slowly, letting the sincerity in her voice wash over her and comfort his racing mind. 

“You’d better not,” he teases softly, a ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. “If we’re doing this thing, no more running headfirst into tornadoes, you hear? Can’t have my girl acting like an irrational daredevil like me. I’ve been told she’s smarter than that.”

She feels herself blushing as he calls her his girl, the title rolling off his tongue so naturally that it makes her heart skip a beat. Tyler watches as a hearty laugh escapes her and she leans into his touch, his own smile growing wider.

Suddenly nothing else has ever mattered beyond this moment of her in his arms, blushing and laughing like he’s the funniest damn man in the world.

“Ok, alright,” she giggles with feigned exasperation. “No more running into tornado paths, I swear. Wrangler’s honor. But you have to swear it too. You’re an adrenaline junkie and a trouble maker, even more than I am.”

He chuckles at her playful jab, his body feeling lighter than it has all day as he finally lets the tension within him fade. She’s safe, he tells himself over and over. She’s alive, she’s teasing him like she always does, and she’s got him smiling like a damn fool.

“Baby,” he mutters with that teasing glint in his eye, “you need to get my head checked if I ever run away from you and into a tornado. No man in his right mind would leave a gorgeous thing like you for some wind.”

Before she can reply to his ridiculous comment, he captures her lips once more with his own, relishing in the way she smiles against him as he pulls her closer.

This is all Tyler’s ever wanted - all he’s ever needed. Just her, safe and sound, loving him in all his flaws and worry for her.

If her running into that damn field led to this moment, this reality where she’s finally his, then so be it. He’s never been more grateful for a tornado.

[jamminvroomvroom]

as sick as it sounds, i loved you first. 2

LN x fem!leclerc reader

PART 2 OF 2 -> read part 1 linked HERE!

here we go again guys, you know the drill! follows directly on from part 1 because of the silly word count :(

warnings: warnings: 18+!! minors GO AWAY! smut, angst, fluff, kinda enemies to lovers? kinda? r is charles sister oop, miscommunication, both of them are down bad for eachother but they are also extremely dumb! breeding kink, size kink, pain kink (if u squint), unprotected p in v (don’t be silly!)

part 2: 6.1k words

8. i have you.

“you never told me why.” lando blurts.

the sun is setting outside, the pair of you sprawled out over your hotel bed. he’d been in your room for a few hours, tangled with you between the linen sheets. it’s thursday in brazil, and he’d made a beeline for your hotel room after media day wrapped up. he couldn’t explain the anxiety he felt, pooling thickly in the pit of his belly, but it subsided as soon as he saw your pretty face, peeking through the crack in your door.

he’d stayed after, a habit that had been developing of late, when you were both at home in monaco, but it was unusual on a race weekend. you’d pulled out your laptop to do some work, and chucked the remote at him, telling him to put something on netflix. he’d just smiled and obliged, more than willing to stay with you.

“told you ‘why’ what?” you look up from your laptop, confused.

“why you haven’t really been with anyone else.” his voice is small, scared he’s overstepping but he figures he’s seen you naked one too many times to get shy.

“oh.”

you stare off into the dim light of the room for a second, collecting your thoughts, reliving it all.

“you don’t need to tell me, sorry if that was weird-“

“no, uh, it’s fine. it’s a bit tragic really, embarrassing.” you start. “there was a guy, a couple of years ago. he was on my course at uni. he was perfect, flowers on my doorstep once a week, romantic dinners overlooking the harbour.” you reminisce, smiling sadly. “we went on a few dates and he was selling it all perfectly, it was like he was telling me everything i wanted to hear. i trusted him, so i slept with him. it was my first time.” your breath hitches. “next thing i know, he’s telling everyone that will listen that he’s best friends with charles leclerc and that he’s fucked an f1 drivers sister. and, you know, monaco is small. charles and arthur beat the shit out of him.” you laugh, but it doesn’t reach your eyes, which are now glossed over with fresh, stinging tears.

lando slides closer to you, tentatively wrapping an arm over your shoulder.

“it’s always been hard, you know? people trying to get close to me so that they could get close to charles. all my life, it’s been the same shit. i just wanted someone to want me for me, just once.”

you’re crying now, and lando wants to die for causing it.

“hey, ‘m so sorry, honey. i shouldn’t have asked.” he shushes you, pulling you close. he kisses the top of your head gently, and you snuggle further into him.

“no, it’s okay. wanted you to know. that’s why i like this. us.” it comes out just above a whisper.

“that’s why i like us too.” he murmurs. you look up at him, scanning his face.

“what’s your story? charles said something to me once about a bad breakup.” you ask softly. lando sighs.

“she wanted the lifestyle more than she wanted me.” he shrugs.

“i’m sorry.”

“don’t be. i’m better off.” i have you, he wants to add.

“i like the fact that we can’t hurt eachother that way.” you breathe, voicing the sentiment that you’ve both shared since the very first time you were together.

“i like it too, honey. more than you know.”

-

9. ache.

a weight lifts off of him in vegas.

brazil had been a shit show, one that he wanted to forget. one that left him awake for two days avoiding your calls, until you snapped him out of it by showing up at his place anyway, and giving him the best head of his fucking life. he’d slept like a damn baby after that.

he had a week off, after, which he spent in your bed more than his own, and then he was promptly off to nevada, awaiting your arrival a few days later and fixated on clawing something back after brazil, even if it was just pride.

well, that fixation didn’t amount to much, but at least you were there, somewhere, watching and waiting. charles is a wreck, though, storming away from parc ferme, which means you’ll be with him, instead of with lando. he feels selfish at the way it stings.

he’s exhausted when he leaves the track, dead on his feet in the elevator up to his room. he can’t bring himself to join max or george and celebrate. he’ll make it up to both of them another time. his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, recognising your contact. he doesn’t even fight the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

packed something special for you. you gonna come find out what?

he’s in love with you. has been for a while.

the attention you pay to him for himl, the way you tease him and laugh with him and let him lose himself in unravelling you. your quick wit, mesmerising eyes, the way you switch languages when he scrambles your brain and you can’t think hard enough to keep speaking english. he’s a goner, and he knows it.

he doesn’t bother replying, just makes a beeline for your room. he’s spent enough time in it already this weekend to make it there without much thought. you’d even left him a keycard, which he retrieves with nimble fingers from his wallet, letting himself into your suite.

he calls your name, rounding the corner and he could die right there, just at the sight of you.

you’re lamplit, knelt on the middle of your bed, wrapped in nothing but intricate, baby pink lace.

“my god.” he pants, jaw dropped. you’re ethereal, gorgeous, a delicate gift wrapped up just for him to open.

“do you like it?” your eyes are wide, daunted.

“what the fuck did i do to deserve you?” he stalks to the end of the bed, shrugging off his jacket, his hoodie, until he’s left in a white vest and team joggers. he kneels down at the foot of the bed, ready to crawl over you. “i love it.”

you flush, grinning sweetly as he crawls over you, pushing you back into the mattress.

“you did this all for me?” lando asks, stroking over a lacy bra strap.

“thought you deserved it.” you purr, but your facade slips for just a minute. “is this okay? never done this before.” you glance up at him with round, doe eyes that make him swallow hard, melting further into you.

“‘s perfect.” he promises. “you’re so perfect.”

lando kisses you softly, his warm skin pressing into yours. you moan quietly into his mouth, holding him close. he thumbs over the lace adorning your bust, stroking it. you squirm every time he brushes your skin.

“wanna be on top. wanna try it.” you pant into his mouth, watching closely as he groans, eyes fluttering as he imagines the sight.

“only if you keep this on.” he bargains, flipping the pair of you over.

you sit up on his lap, smoothing your hands over his chest as his find your hips. he steadies you, playing with the band of your panties, tracing over the pattern.

“can’t believe you did this all for me.” lando coos, taking the opportunity to take it all in, you, flustered and breathtaking, straddling him. dressed up all for him, all his.

“you deserve it.”

“do you think you’re ready for me? lemme see.” his hand skates between your thighs, pressing the pads of his fingers against the crotch of your underwear. he applies pressure against the wet patch that he feels, licking his lips. “were you thinking about me when you were getting all dressed up? thinking about how i’d touch you?”

“yeah,” you nod frantically, grinding down on his fingers. “wanted you all day but i wanted to be good for you.” you pout. you’re gonna kill him, he thinks.

“always good for me.” he applies more pressure, toying with your clit through the lace, the sensation making you quiver, bucking your hips.

“just want you inside of me, lando. i’m ready.” you plead, palming over his sweats. your hand travels further, finding his between your legs. you tug your underwear to the side, and he feels just how wet you are for him.

“you sure, baby?”

there he goes again. baby. your tummy twists.

“yeah, lan, i want it to hurt a little.” you sound so sweet for him and it shreds the rest of his self restraint.

lando sits up just enough to rip off his vest, taps your thigh so that you lift up for a second, long enough for him to shrug off his sweats. when he’s bare, he paws at your hips, helping you to adjust. your fingers wrap around his length and he jolts, mouth falling open as you swipe the head of him through your slit. you sink down, taking just the tip, but it feels like the first time all over again, the angle creating delicious pressure that burns through your pelvis. your eyes squeeze shut and he swirls his fingers over your sides.

“take it easy for me, love.” lando urges, looking up at you with concern.

“i like it. promise.” you choke out, eyes rolling back at the pleasure, the burn.

you continue to slide down on him, sinking further and further until you’re flush against his pelvis. you roll your hips experimentally, your clit brushing against the thatch of hair at his base and you squirm, sensitive.

“want me to help?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“wanna do this for you.” you pant, rocking your hips against his.

the angle is brutal, so intoxicatingly good, and you can already feel yourself leaking all over him. you build up a rhythm, slow and steady, watching the ripple of his abs everytime you sink back down on him, the way his curls fan over his forehead, the veins in his arms bulging as he grips at your waist tighter and tighter.

“you look so pretty, baby, taking me like this.” lando sighs, helping you pick up the pace. you cry out, leaning backwards, fingers gripping his firm thighs.

“it’s so good, you feel so good.” you whine, arching your back.

he’s entranced by the way your breasts bounce, fighting against the skimpy bra and he sinks his teeth into his plush bottom lip, eyeing you hungrily. one hand leaves your waist and travels to the cups of your bra, tugging so harshly that you hear the threads break. he frees your tits, watching in delight as they fall out of the lace confines.

“you’re so sexy, honey, look so beautiful. you’re all mine, aren’t you? this is all for me, right?” lando’s eyes roll back in his head when he feels the way you clamp down around him at his words. he’s gonna fill you up, he thinks, mark you as his from the inside out.

“yeah, lan, all yours.” you slur, fighting the urge to cum. “‘m all yours.”

he can see that you’re tiring, the ache setting in, so he pulls you forward, until you’re chest to chest, wrapped up his his thick arms.

“i’ve got you, baby.” he swears, holding you close as he rolls his hips, fucking up into you.

it’s all too much like this, the constant pressure on your clit, the head of his cock tapping against your cervix, the thrumming of his heart, the cold sweat of his chest peaking your nipples. you let out a strangled cry of his name, and you see white, your nerve endings overstimulated and fried. all you can hear is his voice, pulling your through it and out the other side.

“did so good for me, baby, such a good girl. took it all so well, love.”

you’re limp on top of him, a dead weight curled around him like a life force. there’s nothing that could make him move you, and wouldn’t let you go unless you asked. you lay there in silence, your mixed release leaking out of you. your heart rate steadies, about as much as it can with him around, and you feel yourself blinking away sleep, exhausted. lando notices, of course he does.

“let’s clean up.” he suggests, sitting up carefully with you on his lap.

“carry me?” you request sleepily, a lazy smile painting your face.

“as you wish.” he jokes, bowing his head.

your legs wrap around his waist as he shuffles off of the bed, and he walks to the bathroom, setting you down on the marble sink top. he leans into the shower, adjusting the temperature and turning the water on. he lets it heat up and turns back to you. no words are exchanged as he peels your ruined panties off, as he unhooks your bra and drops its all onto the counter. he tugs you off of the side, guiding your under the stream of water, the warmth making you relax into him. he’s more than happy to prop you up.

“my legs ache.” you giggle, resting your cheek against his shoulder.

“was it worth it?”

“definitely.”

“good.”

he cleans you, massaging soap into your skin, and washing it off. you stay close while he does the same for himself, passing him different products as you clean up together. it’s quiet, nothing needs to be said, and you wonder if this is what life with him would be like. domestic and easy.

“stay.” you let yourself ask, croaking the request out into the silence. you’re both drying off, and he’s gathering he’s clothes.

“i thought you’d want me to go.” he looks like a deer in headlights. cute.*

“stay.” your repeat, and this time it sounds like a plea. he slides his boxers on.

“okay.”

he’s like a furnace under the covers and you can’t help but curl into his side, legs wrapping around eachothers. there’s no going back from this, you fear. he’s thinking the same thing. you kiss his chest as you fall asleep, just a quick press of your lips to his pec, but it makes him hot all over. if the lights were still on, you’d see him blushing. he returns the favour with careful peck to your hairline. you both nuzzle impossibly closer.

“has it ever been like that for you?” you whisper into the darkness. you hear the change in his breathing.

the question is loaded; have you ever felt like this before? was that just sex to you? what are we? what is this? do you want me how i want you?

“never.” it’s barely a whisper

you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

-

when you wake up, he stirs, bronzed arms tightening around you.

“go back to sleep.” he grumbles, pulling your back to his chest.

“i need to catch my flight.” you reply, turning around to face him.

you’re stunned when you see him smushed into the pillow, lips pouty, eye lashes fluttering to clear away sleep. he looks so pretty in the morning light, and you wish you’d asked him to stay the night sooner.

“just fly with me.” lando mutters. you freeze.

“lan, you know i can’t do that. what would that look like?”

“who cares?” he half shrugs behind you, and you wriggle away, sit up in bed.

“uh, me? i care, lando. i can’t be seen flying around with some other driver, do you know how much that would complicate things?”

“some other driver.” he huffs. that gets his attention, and he sits up. “what so we can sneak around, and you’ll let me fuck you, but being on an airplane together is crossing the line?” he grunts sarcastically. you narrow your eyes at him.

“don’t say it like that.” you scold.

“how should i say it, then? i thought maybe this meant something more to you.” he’s standing from the bed now, hurt thick in his voice, and you panic, reaching out for him, but he’s finding his clothes.

“it does! it does mean something to me but… lando, i can’t put charles in that position. i can’t put myself in that position.” you reason weakly, standing and rapidly moving towards him. you pull him to face you, holding onto his shoulders. “don’t go, please.” you whisper, cupping his cheek.

he stares down at you, dejected, a wounded animal, and pushes your hands off of him.

“i, uh. i care about you. a lot. too much, i think. i can’t go through this again, and you can’t hurt your brother. so…” he breathes shakily.

“so?” you plead, shaking your head. “don’t do this, we can…”

“i’m not gonna be ‘some other driver’, honey. ‘m sorry.”

“lando-“

“its okay. this was good while it lasted, and i know you’re gonna find what you’re looking for, without all of the, uh,” he gestures around blindly. “the complications.”

“don’t go.” you whisper, catching his hand. tears pool in the corners of your eyes, distorting him.

“go catch your flight.” he smiles sadly, finally dressed, and then he’s gone.

you stand frozen, taking stock of whatever the fuck just happened.

i care about you.

good while it lasted.

you’re gonna find what you’re looking for.

complications.

you choke out a sob, stumble backwards onto the foot of your bed when it hits you.

you’d already found what you were looking for, and now, he was gone.

-

you’re supposed to go straight to qatar with charles, but you beg him to get you a flight home instead.

he can hear that you’ve been crying, and tells you that he’ll kill anyone that you need him to. you promise it’s fine, through even more tears, tell him that you’ll fill him in when he’s got a minute to breathe.

the ticket lands in your inbox and you flee. you spend the twelve hour flight watching love actually, crying into a glass of wine, and wondering if you should get gracie abrams’ lyrics tattooed on your forehead.

i love you, i’m sorry would be quite fitting right about now.

when you land, you don’t even go home, making a beeline for alex and charles’ apartment instead. when alex lets you in, confused to see your face, leo does laps around your feet. you drop your bags and fall into her arms, sob until your throat is raw and your eyes are bloodshot.

“i fucked up.” you wail, breathing hard.

“lando?” she asks, tentative. she has a knowing look, and your eyes nearly fall out of your head.

“what? how did you-“

“well let’s just say that we saw the DM he sent you, and arthur was actually sat opposite me when you said you were with him.” she admits. you gasp.

“does charles… does he…?”

“oh, sweetie, charles knows nothing. although he did ask me what shoe size you wear after coming to your place a few weeks back. he said something about a pair of birkenstocks that looked huge compared to your other shoes, and i told him that was just the style.” she snorts, and you slap your hand over your forehead.

“oh, jesus.” you whine, hiding your face in your hands.

“wanna tell me what happened?”

“i don’t even know, he asked me to fly with him and then i said it would complicate things, that i couldn’t been seen with, quote on quote, ‘some other driver.’” you sigh.

“some other driver? oh, girl.”

“yep.”

“were you guys dating…? or?”

“no! lately things had been a bit more,” you pause, gathering your thoughts. “intimate? i don’t know. i definitely have feelings for him.”

alex looks at you sympathetically, strokes your knee soothingly.

“have you told him that?”

“no, i didn’t know how and now he’s done with me.” you wince, a fresh wave of tears pricking your eyes.

“maybe not, sweetie, maybe you if you told him how you felt, he’d understand. is charles what you’re worried about?”

“charles, the fans, all of it.” you whimper.

“the fans can be, well, intense, but take it from me, if lando’s worth it, none of that matters. is he worth it?”

you pause, weighing it all up. the way he’d been with you, so gentle and caring, considerate and interested in you. he’d made you feel safe and satisfied, and everytime you caught him looking at you, you felt that first initial spark all over again. you could laugh with him, push and tease and not just be charles leclerc’s little sister. you look forward to seeing him, feeling him, speaking to him. all of this together feels heavy, but you want to bear it.

“he is.” you whisper, looking at alex nervously. “oh, god, what do i do?”

“i think there’s a paddock pass with your name on it that you should make use of.” she tells you, wrapping you in a tight hug. “and if charles has a problem, tell him he has to go through me.”

-

10. pizza and pasta.

max fewtrell sips his coffee in the hotel lobby, waiting for keegan to join him. it’s hot in qatar, dry and bright, ornate.

his phone buzzes.

message request from: yourusername

HI SORRY ARE YOU IN QATAR????

he probably looks like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his skull.

another message comes through.

this sounds insane and i’m sorry that this is like, the first time we’ve ever spoken, but i need a huge favour. like a really really huge favour.

max scratches the back of his head, pulling a face at his phone. baffled wouldn’t even begin to cover how he feels.

he picks up his phone, and opens the messages.

-

lando over exerts himself keeping away from you. the sprint race had been a breeze compared to staying away, out of your reach. it hurts like hell, but it’s a necessary evil for both your sakes.

he wants to sleep, do nothing else but collapse onto his mattress, phone silenced and curtains drawn as tightly shut as they can go. he unlocks the door to his hotel room. the light flashes green, and he relaxes, finally. until, he doesn’t.

there’s a faint sound coming from down the short corridor that separates his front door from his sleeping area. it’s not max, he’s just left him outside his own hotel room, and it’s not keegan, either, for the same reason. he wonders if he has another stalker, braces himself and picks up the first thing he can find. a shoe. useless, he thinks.

lando creeps down the corridor, poised and ready, jumps out of his skin when you round the corner before he can get there. you yelp, bracing yourself against the wall.

“what the fuck, i thought you were a murderer!” lando huffs, throwing his head back.

somehow, the sight of you is worse than any murderer could ever be.

“putain! god, i’m so sorry! so sorry!” you squeak.

“how did you get in here?”

“funny story,” you tilt your head to the side, trying to look harmless. “max let me in.”

“verstappen?” lando asks, face twisting with confusion.

“no, idiot. fewtrell.” you reply, duh-like. “i can go, i know this is crazy and weird and a total violation, but i had to talk to you.” your voice softens and lando seems to finally relax. he’ll kill max later.

“this is batshit, actually, but i respect the grind.” lando shrugs. “what do you want?” he sounds harsher than intended, closed off, but you suppose you deserve it.

“i’m sorry about what happened last weekend.” you inhale shakily. “i… i care about you a lot, too, and i have done for a while but i was too scared to say it. i realised as soon as you left that i never ever wanna hurt you like that. never want you to feel like i don’t lo- care about you… like that.” you catch yourself, not ready to say certain words. he gets the gist.

“i don’t wanna be some hookup anymore. it was fine at first, when i thought that’s all i could have from you, but i know that it’s not. i want you.” lando states, his words poignant. “whatever pace you need, whatever you want from me, i wanna give it to you.”

the space between you dissipates.

“i saw you, you know, watching me from your garage all those months ago, like you were trying place me.” your voice is barely above a whisper. “admittedly, i kinda wanted to punch you for ruining that dress, but i also, really really secretly thought you were cute.”

“well, if we’re being honest, i really wanted to fuck you the first time i saw you.” he jokes crudely, and you slap his chest. “in my defence, i was blackout drunk.”

“asshole.” you mutter. you’re so close now that his nose bumps yours.

“i think you like it.” he whispers.

“yeah, i really do.”

your lips meet his urgently, homecoming. it’s been too long since you’ve had him in your hands, touched him and felt him breathe against you. the kiss is passionate, frantic, and you know you’re in love with him. you’re certain.

-

an hour later, you’re tucked into bed with him, a movie that you’re not paying attention to playing idly on the tv. pizza crusts lay on a plate, the leftovers of your impromptu dinner date.

you’ve covered your degree, how he got into racing, what you do for work, who you’re friends are, family dynamics.

you learn that his favourite colour actually is yellow, and he learns that you’re favourite drink is red wine. he prefers pizza, you prefer pasta. you like flat whites, and he doesn’t like coffee at all.

“after abu dhabi, i’ll take you on a real date. i promise.” he sounds excited as he says it, and you melt into his side.

“oh yeah?” you ask, looking up at him, your cheeks smushed against his shoulder. he tucks your hair behind your ear, thumb stroking your cheek tenderly. he just hums in response, gazing down at you.

“gonna talk to your brothers as well.” he murmurs, dipping down to peck your lips.

“not just yet.” you whisper. he furrows his eyebrows.

“why?” he doesn’t sound upset, maybe a little deflated.

“i wanna enjoy this a bit longer, at least go on a real date before, you know, they kill you.” you keep your tone serious, holding it together well. he bursts out laughing, squeezing you closer.

“and here i was worried that you were ashamed of me.” he’s grinning toothily, boyish and pure, and you kiss him again, deeper.

“never.” you coo.

-

11. daylight.

abu dhabi is a distant memory by the time you get back to monaco. you were happy for your brother and your boyfriend.

yeah, that’s what you get to call him now.

your first date had been effortless and yet so intricately perfect, lando planning it down to the last detail. flowers delivered to you the morning of, picking you up at the door, telling you just how beautiful you looked. your table had been waiting for you, candlelit, dressed immaculately. a bottle of red wine served as the centrepiece, your favourite kind. swoon.

he orders pizza, you order pasta. halfway through, you switch plates.

you wake up the next morning in his arms, content and satiated, still bare from the night before. your phone is buzzing, stirring your both out of your deep sleep. you ignore it.

“c’mere.” he begs, breath fanning out across your neck and you wriggle backwards, further into his arms. your naked skin moulds with his, and you can feel him, ready and waiting against the curve of your ass. he’s still half asleep, and so are you, but you spread your legs just enough for him to swipe himself through your folds and slip right in.

you groan at the stretch, he shushes you soothingly, clinging to your frame. everything is so warm and heightened.

“so ready for me.” he whispers, kissing over your shoulder, hips making the most minimal, languid thrusts that make you dizzy.

“want you like this every morning.” you purr, hiking your top leg up even further. he’s basically on top of you now, his body half covering yours.

lando drags your hips back to meet his, breathing heavily against the back of your neck.

“anytime you want me ‘m here. ‘m yours.” lando mutters, eyes rolling back in his head when you clench around him. lewd sounds are exchanged between your lazy bodies, so worked up, two powder kegs desperate to explode.

it happens in waves, powerful orgasms washing over your bodies like the sunlight through the curtains. it’s bright and warm and leaves you buzzing underneath him, electrified.

“good morning.” you smirk, rolling over to face him.

he’s already sunk back down into the mattress, a satisfied grin on his face, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks where his eyes have fallen shut. he looks angelic, and if it wasn’t for his devious ways, you’d hail him a saint.

“very good morning, baby.” lando pants, scrubbing his hands over his face.

“you look so pretty.” you breathe, raking your nails through his hair. he groans, shivers of pleasure radiating through his scalp and down his back.

“not as pretty as you.” he surges forward, pinning you to the bed, the pair of you a hazy mess of limbs and laughter, so wrapped up in eachother. he’s peppering you with kisses, all over you face and your chest, further and further down your body.

round two is about to commence, and you’re more than excited, ready to welcome him back between your thighs, when you both here a loud, repetitive thud coming from faraway. lando pulls back, trying to pinpoint the sound.

“is that the door?” he says to himself. “sorry, baby. need to get that.” he frowns apologetically. you sigh, waving your hand in understanding, watching as he grabs a robe.

-

charles nearly chokes on air and fury when he gets the all caps message from arthur, followed by one from lorenzo, then his publicist.

arthur: HAVE YOU SEEN TWITTER? i don’t know if i should laugh or cry

enzo: be nice to her, don’t be a little bitch

publicist: Charles, we will need to address this news immediately and conclude whether the photos are out of context or not. Meeting scheduled on the shared calendar.

first question: what fucking photos? did someone catch him picking his nose in public?

second question: who does he need to be nice too?

third question: can he not go five fucking minutes without some impending media crisis?

he opens twitter and doesn’t need to look hard, because there on his screen is a picture taken the night before of his precious baby sister, and there is lando fucking norris with his tongue down her throat.

alex asks him where he’s going, watching him storm out keys in hand. he doesn’t respond with anything but a growl and a mutter of your name. alex’s eyes go wide, reached for her phone.

to: your number

girl he knows! idk how but he KNOWS!

for once in your life PICK UP THE PHONE

JESUS OKAY i just saw twitter…

OKAY im tracking charles location rn and looks like he’s near lando’s?

MISS LECLERC PLEASE! HELLO?????

it was nice knowing you babe.

-

you pick up your phone as lando leaves the room, scrolling absentmindedly through your notifications. your interest peaks, however, when you see about a million texts from alex, and even more missed call. in fact, you have literally thousands of notifications, and your blood runs cold.

you’d been so careful last night, surely it hadn’t leaked. your blood runs cold when you open your text chain with alex. the aggressive knocking on the door suddenly makes harrowing sense and you spring from the mattress just in time to hear the front door click.

“is she here?” you hear charles bellow, voice laced thickly with anger.

“uh… who?” lando tries, he really does, but he’s not a good liar. you wince, grabbing anything to cover your dignity: lando’s sweats and a t-shirt. you scramble out of the bedroom, sliding down the corridor from the sheer speed you’re moving at.

“fucking hell.” charles sighs, wincing at the sight of you. “of all the people on the planet, you pick my rival? you pick him?” charles barks at you. you close your eyes, focusing on your breathing as your chest constricts. “i told you. i specifically told you not to mess around with him, and c’mon, i don’t ask you for much.” charles throws his hands out in frustration.

“charles, listen to me,” you keep your voice calm and steady. “we’re not messing around, we… we’re together.” you confirm, watching his jaw tick.

“together? with him? do you know how many girls probably think they’re in a relationship with him? half of the portuguese modelling industry is linked to him.” charles laughs incredulously, disgusted. your eyes narrow, watching lando crumble into a million pieces in your peripheral.

“don’t you dare ruin this for me! and how can you come into his house and speak to him that way? my god, charles, you don’t get it, do you? i can never be happy with anyone because of you! everyone, everyone, uses me to get to you and, god, i finally found someone who cares about me and couldn’t give less of a shit about who you are and you don’t approve? shall i stay single and lonely and in your shadow forever? should i go for some greasy hedge fund legacy who wants to fuck any leclerc he can get his hands on? huh? i’m sorry if you don’t approve, truly, i am, but you will not have a say in this.”

charles stays silent, as does lando, the only sound in the hallway being your heavy breathing, a symptom of your monologue. you feel the ghost of lando’s touch on your waist, soothing you from your outburst, and you lean into his touch, looking up at him. his eyes are reassuring, the only source of comfort.

charles watches intently, the silent communication between you both, and it knocks him for six. ultimately, he wants you to be happy, but it begs the question: can lando make you happy? the way you truly deserve? he sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, lets out a muttered string of expletives.

“will you look after her?” he stares daggers at lando, watches the way the brit straightens up.

“i will.” lando nods firmly, eyes sincere.

“and you won’t hurt her? you won’t fuck her around?” charles looks like he’s desperately pleading, but his voice is commanding, no margin for error.

“i promise.”

“and you’ll make her happy?”

“i’d do anything for her.”

your head snaps towards lando, the tears you’d been holding back finally breaking the dam. charles watches closely, steps backwards towards the door. there isn’t space for him here right now.

“okay. i- okay.” you watch the way charles backs down, and he finally meets your eyes again. “ma chére, je suis désolé.” he tells you solemnly. you nod, lips in a thin, hard line. you can feel lando nudge you forward.

“come here, loser.” you groan, opening your arms for your brother. charles meets you half way, squeezes you tight. he gently kisses your forehead and turns to leave, not before shooting lando a look that says ‘i’m watching you.’

you turn back to your newfound boyfriend, tears still falling, but you pay them no mind.

“well done, baby.” he affirms, thumbing away your tears.

“i love you, lando.” you whisper, threading your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you.” his eyes glaze over, total adoration swirling in the pools of green.

“so glad you said that because i absolutely love you too.” he laughs, hauling you in for a kiss. it’s a mess of tears and laughter and a weird sense of serenity.

“you might wanna call your publicist. pictures of last night leaked.” you mumble against his lips.

“at least we don’t have to sneak around anymore.” he shrugs. “i’ll call later. got things to do.” he picks you up effortlessly, throwing you over his shoulder. you squeal, and he teasingly slaps your ass.

you catch sight of the apartment as he walks you through it, and you think about the first time you saw it, under the cover of darkness, covert and clandestine.

you much prefer it in the light of day.

you prefer lando in the light of day, too.

yourusername and landonorris just posted on instagram:

liked by: francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and others.

yourusername: oops!

comments on this post have been disabled.

-

thank god that’s over lmfao - thank you for reading!!

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟖𝟎 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨? 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨���𝐞?

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ꜱᴏɴɢ: ᴅᴏᴊᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ - ʙᴇᴇɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ

Tw: Squid Game 2 SPOILERS, Smut, toxic relationship, death, blood, swearing, reader takes a pill, Thanos and reader fight, not lights out scene, makeup sex? titty grabbing, eating out, squirting, jerking off, public sex (literally), mating press, cream pie, making out.

A/N: Who should I do next? I'm thinking either player 124 or player 388

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

When you got back from the bathroom, you noticed how many players did. But most seemed unhappy, because the price money wasn't going to get higher. When the final team came back, it was time to vote, it was from 001 to whatever players left. Player 001 who originally had wanted to stay, pressed X. He might of had a change of thought. When it was close to your turn, Thanos turned you around to face him. "Remember what we talked about babygirl." He said, not caring that his underling was standing next to him. You nodded, then number 013 was up, which was you. Before you left, Thanos gave you a kiss on the forehead, then encouraged you to go. You walked over to the voting station, without thinking twice, you pressed O. You heard how Thanos let out a cheerful yell. "That's my baby!" he said, loudly. Your face heated up. But you didn't mind, when you changed your X to an O. You walked towards the O side.

You then waited for the rest of the players to vote. There was some commotion. Players arguing over the situation that happened prior and how the players who wanted to continue were sick for wanting to stay and all that. When you saw a girl crying, wanting to go home, made you feel bad. Was staying really the right thing? You never thought that your actions would effect others. But they did. That got you thinking. When Thanos voted, again on O. He made a beeline towards you. Hugging you tightly, happy that you've decided to stay and play more games. Again, X was out numbered by O. Afterwards, you ate with Thanos, his underling player 124, player 380 and player 125. He had complained about the food, but he ate it anyway since it was the only food that you were getting.

Later on, you and Thanos parted ways, going to your bed which was on the other side. You sat down on your bed, taking off your shoes and paced them on the stairs next to your bed. "So, you and that purpled haired guy?" You heard someone say, looking up. You saw that it was player 380, she was supper pregnant. "Oh, uh." You said, not knowing what to say. "Come on. Everyone saw the way you and him were acting earlier." She commented. You sighed, awkwardly. "Yeah, me and him are back to together." You responded. The girl raised her brow. "Back together?" She asked. "Yeah, we broke up and we got back together." You said, player 380 simply nodded her head slowly.

"So, what made you change your mind? About the games, I thought you wanted to leave." She asked. "I did, but, me and Thanos talked. He said that we should play one more game, so that the money can go up. And we'll leave after. Then we'll pay our debts and start a new life." You explained, you sounded like a school girl in love. The girl only looked at you, shocked about your little fairy tale ending. "And you believed that?" She asked. Your face then turned one of confusion. "What do you mean?" You asked her, chuckling nervously. "You really think he'll stop at this game? What if he doesn't? Then what?" She asked you. Now that she said it, you never thought of it. "I..." You couldn't respond. You didn't know what to say. "Or what if he's simply back with you just to take your half of the money?" She asked one more time. Yet again, you didn't answer, you didn't know what to say. You never thought about any of that. You simply said yes to everything Thanos said.

Player 380 sighed, seen the confused look on your face. "I don't want to be that one person, but. Don't believe everything he says. I can see that you're blinded by your idea of love. But just don't get your hopes up too high." She said, then she walked over to her bed which was in front of yours. When the lights went off, you simply laid in bed. Thinking about what player 380 said earlier. It began to eat at you now. What if he doesn't want to stop on the next game? What if he wants to keep going? What if the games get even deadlier. Tons of what ifs.

The next morning, you woke up. You barely got any sleep that night. You kept over thinking about what player 380 said. You simply ignored it for now. You got up, put on your shoes and went to find Thanos. Shortly the new game started. Again, you were escorted to the game hall. The new was called Mingle, you remember playing it at school during a field trip. It seemed harmless, but it wasn't. While the platform span around, a cheery song played. It was kind of catchy. Meanwhile, Thanos was dancing a bit, followed by his underling. Who simply followed his lead like a lost dog. After a bit the platform stopped and the number 10 was called. You, Thanos, his underlings and the two other players were five, you just needed five more. Then another group of five spotted you all. Without hesitation. You all ran to an empty room as fast as you could.

Once the door closed. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. When the timer went out, you heard how people were panicking and running. Then came the gunshots. You couldn't help but look out the small opening. You saw how the pink men shot the people that didn't make it in time. All you could do was watch, you felt your stomach turn, seen how they were getting killed. Thanos then pulled you away from the door. "Don't look." He said, as he continued to hold you. Until the gunshots stopped, you heard the pickup trucks that came with the coffins to collect the bodies. When the bodies were picked up, you were let out.

As you all walked out, you saw the puddles of blood on the floor. It made your stomach turn, but you walked back to the platform. Again, the music began to play and the platform proceeded to move. Thanos and his underling began to dance together this time. As if people didn't just die and their was both on the floor and onto the platform. The platform stopped, yelling out four players. Thanos told his underling to go find another group while you and the other two players took off the nearest empty room. Same scenario. When the count down was over, the people who didn't make it got killed. You had decided to cover your ears, not wanting to listen to the cries, screams and gunshots. You wanted to throw up so badly.

When it was over, you were allowed to step out again. But when you stepped out. You stepped in a puddle of blood. You looked down and saw your reflection on the sticky crimson liquid. You froze for a moment, just staring at the color red. Until you heard Thanos. "Hey y/n!" You looked up, seen him already on the platform. "Come one baby girl! Come on!" He said. You walked over. Getting on the platform again. You stood next to Thanos, breathing heavily. There was more blood on the platform then before, you also noticed the bloody foot prints. "You good baby?" Thanos asked you. "Yeah, just... there's a lot of blood." You mentioned, Thanos hummed.

Then got an idea. He opened his cross and took out a pink colored pill. "Here, you'll feel better babe." He said, while he tried to hand you the pill. "I... I don't think I should." You said, but Thanos wasn't going to take a no for an answer. "I know." He said, then he placed the pill on his tongue. You knew what that meant. You did it countless times, but you were shy doing it in front of people. "Come on baby." He said. You swallowed your saliva. And leaned towards him, as you were about to take the pill into your mouth. Thanos pulled you into a full on open mouth tongue kiss. Making sure you swallowed the pill. His underling let out a whistle, while player 125 looked away and player 380 just stood there awkwardly. When Thanos pulled away, he smiled and kissed your cheek. You face was burning hot with embarrassment.

The game started again. It went from 3 players, to 6 players to the last round which was 2. The same thing happened. You covered your ears and closed your eyes. Trying to muffle out the noise. You hated it, hated hearing people scream and beg for them not to kill them. You didn't want to be here, you wanted to go home. Good thing was going too be the final game you play. Right?

Back at the lobby, you sat next to Thanos and his underling, who went by the name Nam Gyu were talking about player 333 and his lady friend 222. Obviously still mad about the crypto scam. Your mind was elsewhere, thinking about those people who died. Was the money really worth it? It was blood money, people died for it. Why did you feel that way? Wasn't the pill suppose to help you be happy or something? "Babe, you good?" You heard Thanos say, making you turn to look at him. "Yeah, all good. I'm just glad that, we're going home." You said, with relief. But Nam Gyu let our a laugh, you looked at him confused then at Thanos for an explanation. "Babe, lemme talk to you. Alone." He said, getting up and helped you up. Both of you going to a more private area.

"What's up?" You asked, while looking at him. "There was a change of plan." Thanos said, you looked at him confused. "What change of plan?" You asked. "Let's play another game. Just one more." He said, that made your stomach drop. "Another!?" You said, almost shouting. Thanos then held you by the arms. "Babe, come on. Just one more. Afterwards, we'll stop okay." He pleaded, but you weren't having it. "You said, we'd play one more game. I don't want to keep playing. I want to go home!" You said, now freaking out. "Babe, babe. Take deep breathes." He said trying to calm you down. "No! I'm not doing this!" You said, trying to walk away from him. But he pulled you back to him. "Babe, please." He tried pleading, but you removed his hand away from your arm and stomped away. Thanos groaned, annoyed.

During the voting, it went from 456 down to whatever players were left. Some people's vote remained the same and some changed their minds. When it was Thanos turn, he skipped his way over and kissed the button. He then turned and encouraged others to join O. He then locked eyes with you and blew you a kiss. You rolled your eyes, still mad at him. The voting continued, then it was your turn, you voted X. You switched your tag back to X. As you walked towards the X team, Nam Gyu glared daggers at you. "Fucking bitch." He said, then earned a hard smack from Thanos. "Don't disrespect my woman like that, you hear?!" He said, angrily at his underling who was rubbing the back of his head. "Sorry, but she's a fucking traitor!" He tried to defend himself, but he earned another smack in the head. "Keep talking like that about her and I'll kick your ass." He warned him, while Nam Gyu rubbed the back of his head. Thanos was going to have a word with you.

When the lights went out, you tossed and turned, not being able to sleep. Those around you were already in deep sleep. Including player 380. You kept your eyes closed, but struggled to get slumber. You then felt something crawling onto your bed, it was heavy. You opened your eyes to see what or who it was. It was Thanos, before you could shout his name. He covered your mouth, then placed his finger onto his lips. You understood, then Thanos removed his hand from your mouth. "What do you want?" You whispered. "I come in peace." He said, making you roll your eyes. "I know you're mad, but come on babe. One more game, we'll have more than enough." He whispered. "No, I don't want to keep playing. I can't stand the sight of people getting killed. The smell of blood makes me sick!" You told him.

Thanos gave you a pouting look. "I know babe, but please. Just one more game. One more. I promise it'll be the last." He pleaded, but you rolled your eyes. Not wanting to believe him. He sighed, he knew how stubborn you were. But he had an idea. He leaned over and kissed your cheek. "I'm sorry babe." He said, as he kissed your cheek, to your ear. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He kissed the back of your ear, moving down your neck. As much as you wanted to push him away, you didn't. You allowed him to kiss your neck. "Thanos." You tried to warn him, but you quickly melted into his touch. His hand moved up, then his hand slid under your shirt and moved your bralette a side popping out your breast under your shirt. Squeezing and knitting at it. Making you moan softly. "Shh." He said, as he continued to kiss your neck, then pinched your erect nipple. Making you gasp, but you covered your mouth with your hand.

He smirked, seen how his touches were working wonders on you. As always. He then moved in front of you. Removing the blanket off your lower half, then he processed to move towards your pants. Tugging them down along with your panties. You knew what he was doing. Once your lower half was exposed to him. He saw how wet you were. He laid on his stomach and placed your legs on his shoulders. Without hesitation, he took your clit onto his mouth, sucking it gently. Your back arched, moaning against your hand.

As Thanos sucked at your clit and licked your wet folds. His arms were wrapped around your thighs. Keeping you in place, as he continue to devour you. You felt his tongue thrusting inside you, his nose rubbed your clit. You bit your index finger, softly. Trying to muffle out your moans. He continued to suck and lick at your folds. He missed this. A lot. He let go of one of your thighs, then he reached down and pulled out his cock. Stroking it softly, using his precum as lube, but it wasn't enough. He pulled his hand back up, then spat on his hand. Both his saliva and his juices were mixed together, on his hand. He reached down again, stroking his cock again. But he groaned against your folds, feeling his hot and slick hand around his cock. Wishing it was your pussy.

If tonight was his last night alive, you were going to be his last meal. He went back to sucking at your clit, as he stroked himself. Faster, but not fast enough for him to cum. Just enough to edge himself a bit. You whined against the back of your hand. Your eyes screwed shut and your back arching by the seconds. You body began to heat up, again like the night before. You loved that feeling, that feeling that only Thanos could make you feel. It felt as if that drug from earlier was finally kicking in. Or was it just Thanos doing what he knows best. You then felt as Thanos pulled away from you, he quickly got between your legs. He lined his cock between your folds and easily thrusted into you. Stretching you out once again.

That stretch made you squeal in pleasure. Your walls clamped around Thanos, making him groan. "Fuck!" he hissed. He then placed both your legs over his shoulders and leaned his body down. His chest against yours. As he began to thrust, he processed to kiss you. Harshly, yet lovingly. You could taste yourself in his mouth, but you didn't care. You wrapped your arms around his torso. Kissing him as much as you could. His thrusts became faster and harder. Making you moan against his lips. He didn't stop, he continued to move not stopping once. Then one hand went down between you, rubbing your clit harshly. Having you whine and your walls calmp even tighter around him. Causing him to moan. You dug your nails harder onto his skin, slightly dragging them down his back. Scratching his back. You had forgotten where you were, but at that point, you didn't care. You were more focused on Thanos than to worry around the people around you.

Out of nowhere, you proceeded to squirt, your juices going almost all over your and Thanos also processed to cum inside you. As much as you wanted to scream, you didn't. Your mouth had been covered by Thanos, who was softly kissing your cheekbone. He too let out a breathy moan. He stopped thrusting, he remained still. On top of you. Catching his breath, as did you. You were weak, high in some sort of way. Probably because of the mind blowing orgasm you had. Thanos removed his hand away from your mouth. He smirked and gave your parted lips a small peck, as if he tried to alert you to come back from your high. You looked at him, smiling weakly at him. "Do you forgive me?" He asked, still whispering. As much as you wanted to stay mad at him, you couldn't. "Sure, I forgive you." You manage to say. That made Thanos happy. He leaned down and gave you a kiss on the lips. Followed by a couple more around your face making you giggle. "One more game. I promise. Just, one more and no more." He said, sounding genuine. Should you believe him again? Who knows. Just as long as he is with you, you'll live.

ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ᴘᴀʀᴛ, ɴᴇxᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛ

[promisingyounglady]

watermelons. | JS x Reader

SYNOPSIS: Jake loves ur boobs. That’s it really.

PAIRING: Jake Seresin x Reader

A/N: written for all my big tit girlies, from a big tit girlie herself.

He’s been obsessed with the girls since he first saw them.

And by the girls, he means your tits.

Like just imagine, cocky little top gun aviator, Jake Seresin, turning into a complete mess first glance at you. Spilling his beer all over his tan golden chest that one summer afternoon at the beach with the dagger squad, just because he saw you in your denim shorts and yellow halter top.

And they sit so nicely, your tits. Full, large, and beautiful.

The breeze carries the scent of salt, the air humid and yet all jake can do is stare at the girl with the sweet smile and pretty tits, laughing loudly with her friends on the Hard Deck patio.

“So you’re just gonna stare like a creep or what?” Bradley’s low voice calls out beside him, crossing his arms across his chest as he adjusts his aviator sunglasses, muscles glistening as well under the heat. He whistles softly when he sees you, to which Jake shoves his friend away playfully, annoyed that he’s looking at you too.

“Back off, Bradshaw”

And so next thing he knows, he’s by your side, immediately serenading you with his charming smile and kind eyes.

“Hi sweetheart”

It’s so fucking cheesy and simple, and yet it works on you. You’re spinning around, eyes going wide at the firm, golden chest your face to face with and the way Jake just looms over you, hands on his hips, sweaty and golden from a match of beach football.

“Would you allow me to buy the pretty girl and her friends a drink?” He asks your friend group, sending a wink that makes the girls swoon.

“Oh my fuck” slips out from one of your friends behind you, the group gawking at the sight of the tall, handsome man in front of them.

And she was right. Oh my fuck indeed.

All it took was one line of southern drawl and you were hooked.

That night when Jake has you pinned against the alleyway wall outside of the bar, both your cheeks hot and the breeze cooler, you stare up at the man you had just spent the whole day flirting to.

“So you’re stationed here for a few months?” you breathe out, staring at his broad chest and chiseled jaw, feeling so small under his gaze. You gasp when his hand shifts closer, holding your waist firm in his grasp.

He nods, no need for words when he’s busy admiring you as well. The tall man gently nestles his lips beside your ear, whispering praises as he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You shut your eyes, fluttering your eyelashes at the proximity and sheer sensuality of it all.

“Can I touch you?” He asks pulling away, looking at your eyes with something more than just lust.

You smile, chest heaving as you replied coyly. “Where do you want to touch me?”

Jake is starstruck at your words, trying so hard to shield you from the world under his arms and selfishly have you all for himself.

You take both his hands in yours and wrap them over your hips, letting them grab the mounds of your flesh and groan, feeling his hard on pressing against your front.

“feel me. and show me where you want to touch me most” you gasp, eyes shutting closed.

Jake pulls his hands away to caress your cheeks, taking your face as he presses his lips against yours.

“Here” he says under his breath. That was where he wanted to touch you most.

The kiss is deep, soft under the starry beach sky.

The same hands slide down to softly squeeze your tits, and that’s when you know that was the second spot he wanted to touch most. You smirk against the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing into him further.

Jake Seresin was a tits guy.

So when Jake comes home to his apartment after a year of steady dating, he’s already making a beeline to find you, settling on the fact that you must be in the laundry room finishing up the chores.

You don’t even have time to greet your boyfriend properly before he’s shoving his face in your tits and smacking a kiss to each one.

“Jake, what is up with you?” You giggled, shocked at how needy and hot he was. “I didn’t know they let you off early”

He sighs, taking them in his strong hands and pressing a kiss to each breast again.

“Just missed my girls, that’s all” he groans, holding you closer as you give him a hug.

you rolled your eyes, watching as he continue to rub them softly, pressing a kiss to your collar bone.

“I cut up the watermelon, it’s in the fridge” you told him, pulling him away to press a peck to his cheek.

You took the laundry basket, propping it against your hip as you smiled when Jake called out while pouting at the loss of contact.

“Not the melons I need!” he exasperates, trailing after you quickly.

[annievrse]

origami flowers

sebastian x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb

you hear a familiar voice call your name as you trudge down the hallway of weston college, your shoes clicking against the concrete floor. you're not sure where you're going; being the faux nurse of the school while ciel and sebastian figure out why children are going missing gives you more free time than you're used to. but with no need to go to the infirmary, you've been exploring the campus.

pausing mid-step and spinning, your eyes widen when you see ciel running towards you.

"young master?" your voice goes up an octave in surprise. "what happened?" you ask, your voice sharp with concern.

the younger boy pants with his hands on his knees as he catches his breath. "we have an... issue..."

you glance behind you to check nobody is coming and lean down—it's a good thing everybody is in class. "where's sebastian?"

ciel gives you a worried look and stands straight, his hand wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "that's precisely the problem... i don't know."

furrowing your brows, you sigh and stride past your master. ciel's calls of your name fall on deaf ears as you make a beeline for your infirmary. "i apologise, young master. follow me."

ciel shakes his head in disbelief at the random demand but follows you nonetheless, his steps quickening to catch up to you.

"shouldn't you be in class?" you tease, turning the corner.

ciel rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance. "i was, but i broke the quill i was using, and i was sent to my dorm to retrieve another."

"i see," you smirk, trying to hold back your giggle. "and did this broken quill have anything to do with the fact that you haven't seen sebastian since last night?"

"perhaps..." he eyes you suspiciously. and then his face slackens and he glares at you. "you know where he is."

you wave your hand flippantly. "i have an idea."

fishing the key to your temporary office out of your blazer pocket, you slide it into the keyhole and twist.

and low and behold, ciel's butler sits hunched over your desk.

ciel lets out a strangled sound and steps into the clinic. "what the devil are you doing in here?"

"my lord," sebastian raises his head in surprise, something foreign to both you and your young master.

sighing, you approach him, watching his hands fold paper delicately.

ciel just shakes his head at the pile of origami flowers overflowing onto the floor next to sebastian. "playing with paper, are we?"

you notice what ciel does a moment later, your cheeks warming at the sheer amount of work he had done. "seb..."

sebastian stands, paper flowers falling from his lap onto the floor as his hand comes to rest on his chest. "i apologise, my lord, i did not realise the time."

he doesn't meet your gaze as you pick up a pink flower and twirl it between your fingers.

ciel narrows his eyes but says nothing at the sight.

"i was unaware i was occupied for this long, my lord. i will get to making the pastries for afternoon tea shortly."

ciel shakes his head, turning toward the door. "no need. they are no longer required. i will handle the situation myself."

sebastian nods despite knowing ciel cannot see. "indeed."

"just be in your office tonight so we can prepare for soma's arrival."

lowering his head, sebastian bows. "yes, my lord."

and when the door to your clinic closes, sebastian's hand returns to his side. "i saw one of the students making them," he gestures to the flowers. "do you like them?"

you smile and nod. "they're incredible, sebastian."

leaning over your desk, he gathers his creations, and before your eyes, they transform into a bouquet. your eyes widen at the sight, and you look up at him. sebastian's cheeks are dusted pink, though you deduce it to the lighting because he doesn't show such emotion.

"these are for you," sebastian mutters, handing you the bunch.

your breath gets caught in your throat before you whisper, "thank you."

a smirk pulls at the corner of sebastian's lips, and he nods once. "you're welcome, dearest."

you turn away from his piercing gaze, grasping the flowers in your arms. "next time you stay in my bed, don't become so distracted from your duties that ciel has to come to me to find you."

this time, sebastian's lips morph into a smug smile. "of course. it won't happen again."

and when you put the origami flowers into an empty vase, you know he's running through all the scenarios where he could do exactly that once more.

[munsonsmixtapes]

I Can Help With That

rockstar!Eddie x bestie!fem!virgin!reader

summary: Eddie catches you reading fanfiction about him and decides to let your experience the real thing

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) fingering, oral (f receiving)

not proofread!

It wasn’t a secret that you had a huge crush on your best friend Eddie. You had been in love with him since you were kids and everyone knew. Well, everyone except Eddie, but he wasn’t exactly the most observant so you couldn’t blame him.

And you didn’t want him to know anyway. That was something you were going totally take to your grave. The whole thing was just so embarrassing for you and he definitely wasn’t the commitment kind of guy anyway. He usually just fucked women and let them leave, not wanting any attachment to them.

You supposed you couldn’t blame him since he was always traveling and didn’t have time for a relationship. And hey, the guy was only human. What was he supposed to do? Be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women and not sleep with them when they offered?

You honestly weren’t sure how you came across it. You were just browsing the internet, looking to read about someone else when his name popped up. You were curious to say the least. You had no idea that people even wrote about Eddie in that way and thought it was hilarious, so obviously, you had to read it.

Then it got to the point where you were reading it every day, trying to find the best one to show him. What started out as a joke actually became not as much when you were actually enjoying what you were reading. You started imagining what it would have been like to actually be with him and it was getting out of hand.

You sat at your computer, another fanfiction pulled up and this one was different from the others. It wasn’t no longer soft and sweet. It was dirty. It was sexual with everything described on the page. You had read that kind of stuff before, but not about Eddie. Not about your best friend.

You were really getting into when you heard the door to your room open. You quickly minimized the page and turned to Eddie who looked almost unreal like always. With his leather jacket over his white t-shirt which was tucked into a pair of very ripped jeans that gave you a perfect view of his perfect thighs that you desperately wanted to get your hands on.

“What were you doing?” He asked, suspicious and you just put on a smile, trying to play it off.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, but Eddie just made a beeline for you. He spun your chair around and moved his hand to the mouse but you got there quicker, closing out the page completely.

“Oh, you silly girl,” he laughed. “You seemed to have forgotten that I can see your browser history.” He reached for the mouse and you grabbed it, holding it out of his reach as you rolled your chair away, the back of it eventually hitting the wall.

Eddie stepped over to you, resting his hands on the arm rests as he leaned so close to you that you could smell his breath. He looked like he was leaning in and you closed your eyes in anticipation only to open them and find Eddie at the computer, opening the last tab you had opened. You rolled your chair over, accepting defeat as you covered your face in embarrassment.

Eddie was a little shocked when he opened the page, but honestly wasn’t surprised. You read smut all the time. But wait a minute, was that his name? There it was again! You were reading smut about him? Since when?

“Why are you reading fanfiction about me?” The question wasn’t accusatory, more curious than anything.

“I was going to read about someone else, but then I saw your name and got curious. And then I was so determined to find one to read to you, but none of them seemed good enough.” Eddie knew he should’ve been weirded out, but he honestly just thought it was funny.

“So you’ve read these before?” He turned his face back towards the screen to read a little more.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But none like this, though.”

“Right,” he winked. “Of course not. But you like these though, huh?”

“I mean, I don’t know.” You did. Maybe a little too much.

“Do they get you hot?” His question caught you off guard, making you blush.

“What?”

“I bet they make you wet, huh?” How did he know that? It was as if he was psychic.

“Well-”

“Relax, babe. I’m just kidding.” You let out a sigh of relief. You’d die of embarrassment if he had actually been asking you that.

“Oh.”

“Unless they do actually make you wet.” You were so embarrassed that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Um, maybe a little.” He just chuckled and leaned forward so his lips were right by your ear.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to do this kind of stuff with me, all you had to do was ask.” His tone was teasing, but there was a hint of truth to his words.

“Really?” You didn’t quite believe him.

“Sure. Why read it when you have the real thing right here?”

“Eddie, this isn’t funny. If you’re going to make fun of me, I’d rather you just leave.”

“I’m not making fun of you. I’d love to give you the real thing if you’d let me.” He was being serious. He was actually offering to have sex with you and actually seemed enthusiastic about it. Was this all just some very real dream you had entered?

“You would?”

“If you want to.”

“I don’t know,” you shook your head. “I’ve just-I’ve never done anything before,” you reminded him and he just nodded.

“That’s okay. We don’t have to.” He stood up, but you grabbed his hand, preventing him from leaving.

“Please fuck me!” Your words came out much more needy than you intended and Eddie just looked at you with wide eyes before a smile broke out on his face.

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” you nodded.

“And you can back out at any point.”

“I know.” He bent over the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests again. His face was so close to yours that you could make out every single detail. God, he was beautiful.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered and you nodded.

“Yes,” you responded, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Eddie reached up and pulled your lip from your teeth with his thumb and let it settle back into place before, leaning in, pressing a featherlight peck to your lips before pulling away.

“What was that?”

“Relax,” he laughed. “I’m just warming you up.” He leaned in again and pressed another peck to your lips. Another. Another until he slotted his lips between yours, capturing them in the softest, sweetest kiss.

Assuming that he was uncomfortable leaning over like that, you stood up from the chair and wrapped your arms around his neck before going in for another kiss. It was like none you had ever experienced before. It was like he put full thought into each one, trying to figure out what you liked and what you didn’t.

His arms wrapped around your waist as his tongue licked along the seam of your lips. You opened up and he slid his tongue inside, letting it swirl around yours. It felt so good and you were surprised that you were already aroused when he hadn’t even done anything.

A sound that was foreign to you escaped your mouth and you pulled away, bringing your hand up to your lips to cover them in embarrassment. Eddie just laughed and pulled your hand away.

“There’s not need to be embarrassed, sweetheart,” he assured you. “Make as much noise as you want. In fact, I’d prefer it.” When you still looked unsure, he continued. “I’m serious,” he pecked your lips once more. “Be as loud as you want. There’s no such thing as being too loud.”

“So, you want me to make the noise again?”

“I’d actually prefer it.” With that, Eddie’s lips were on yours again and he took no time to stick his tongue into your mouth, swirling it around yours. You didn’t hold back that time, letting the moan fully escape your lips and felt Eddie’s boner against you as he pulled you closer.

His hands traveled down your back and slowly moved up your hoodie as he tested the waters to see if it was okay. Once you didn’t say anything, his hands moved up even more to your bra that he realized wasn’t there. The idea of you not wearing one made him even more hard and he decided that he needed to see your tits for himself.

He slowly lifted the bottom of your hoodie and you lifted your arms up so he had so trouble removing it. He let out a gasp as your hoodie hit the floor as he took in your naked upper half. He had really been missing out. God, you were so fucking perfect.

“Christ. You’ve been hiding these from me all this time?” He reached up to touch them, taking them in his hands before giving them a squeeze.

“Well, it’s not exactly normal to show your best friend your tits, is it?”

“And yet, here we are,” he smirked.

“Eddie, our friendship has never been normal.”

“That’s true. But seriously, you’re so fucking hot.”

“I know,” you nodded and it made him even more hard knowing that you were so confident in yourself. Soon, his lips were back on yours again, this time more rough as he took what he wanted from you.

His thumbs moved your nipples in a circular motion and you let out a moan at the foreign feeling.

“Feels so good, Eds,” you told him and he continued, wanting to hear more of those pretty sounds fall from your lips. His lips moved to your neck as he slowly laid you down on the bed, removing his jacket and shirt as he did so.

He attached his lips to yours once again, this kiss slow and sloven, as if he had all the time in the world, and you supposed he did. He brought your bottom lip between his and gave it a little suck, causing you to let out a whimper and you to get even more wet. Once he realized you liked it, he did it again, harder that time before taking it between his teeth and biting down gently.

“Fuck,” you moaned. “More.” He bit down even harder and you let out your loudest moan. As he bit and sucked your lip, his hand traveled down to your sweatpants. He slowly stuck his hand down the front of them, on the hunt for your pussy.

Once he found it, Eddie’s fingers lightly grazed it, warming you up for the main event. He slowly stuck two fingers inside of you and your back arched in pleasure, your eyes closing tight.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you, the only sounds that could be heard were your moans and the squelching of your slick as he moved his fingers in and out of your cunt. You were already experiencing more pleasure than you ever had and he hadn’t even fucked you yet.

“You like that, hon?” He asked as he pumped a little faster.

“So good, don’t stop.” He hooked his finger and found just the right spot, causing your legs to stretch out at the pleasure.

“Oh my god, Eddie, I think I’m gonna-”

Just as you said the words, you reached your first climax, screaming his name as you did so. Eddie removed his fingers from you and you sat up just in time to watch him slowly lick your slick from his fingers.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “Taste so good, sweetheart.”

“You can have another,” you told him, your confidence building.

“You let me finger you and now you’re going to let me eat you out? Well, sugar. It must just be my lucky day.” Eddie lowered himself onto his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed and grabbed you by the ankles, pulling you with him.

With your permission, he pulled down your pants and let out a dramatic gasp at the wet patch on your underwear. He then removed those as well and spread your legs, licking his lips at the sight of your sopping wet cunt.

“You did all of this for me?” He gasped. “Sugar, you shouldn’t have.” He draped a leg over each shoulder and pressed open mouthed kisses to your thighs, not wanting them to feel left out before he inhaled your scent, desperate for a taste. “You look good enough to eat and I’m starving.”

Eddie let his nose brush your cunt as he dove in and you let out a gasp, gripping the comforter underneath you as you got used to the foreign feeling. He then slowly licked a stripe from your slit to your clit, eliciting a whine from you.

“Oh, my god,” you moaned and Eddie pulled away for a second, just so he could speak to you.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart,” he groaned his voice all raspy, making you even more wet. “Swear I could do this all day.” He went in for more and licked and sucked as your back arched in pleasure, his fingers digging into your thighs as he lapped up every single bit of your slick.

His teeth grazed just the right spot and you swore that your vision went hazy at the pure euphoria you were experiencing. Was it always like that or was Eddie just that good? You were pretty sure it was the latter.

Your thighs pressed against his head as Eddie stuck his tongue fully inside you and your hands moved to his hair as you reached yet another orgasm, but he wasn’t done just yet.

His tongue swirled around your cunt and you yanked on his hair in reaction to the feeling. You hadn’t experienced anything like it and were sure that you definitely wanted him to do it again. It was too good to just pretend like it didn’t happen.

“Fuck,” you whined. “Right there.” He hit just the right spot to make a mewl fall from your lips and you fell back onto the mattress as you came down from your climax. Eddie gave your cunt one last lick before pulling his face away, the entire thing soaked in your slick, but he didn’t care. He’d be happy to lick it all up just to get another taste of you.

“God, could eat you for hours, baby. You taste heavenly.”

“Need your cock,” you said through labored breaths and Eddie was surprised. He thought you’d need a little break before you were ready.

“Baby, we just-”

“Eddie,” you said through grit teeth. “I need you now.”

“Alright, alright,” he pulled a condom from his wallet and quickly removed his jeans and underwear before rolling the thing onto his cock. He then lined himself up with your cunt and slowly inserted himself, both of you letting out moans at the sensation.

Eddie slowly thrusted into you since it was your first time and as good as it felt, you needed more. He wasn’t moving fast or harder enough.

“Harder,” you told him and he kept going slow, unsure of that was the right move for you. He didn’t want to hurt you, especially not on your first time.

“Are you sure?”

“Very fucking sure. Fuck me hard.” With that, Eddie pounded into you and you mewled in reaction.

“Oh,” you moaned. “Oh my god-fuck.”

“That’s it, honey,” Eddie responded. “Look at you, taking me so well. Look like a fucking princess underneath me.”

He continued to pound into you and the moans that left your mouth were enough to make him the hardest he had ever been. None of the other women he had fucked had been nearly as responsive to his moves as you had. You ate up every single thing and he loved that about you. That you took whatever he gave you and was nothing but grateful for it.

“Fuck, feel so good, princess,” he moaned, grabbing the onto your legs and wrapping them around his waist so he had more access to your pussy.

He thrusted and thrusted, eventually moving the fastest and hardest he could and that seemed to satisfy you. In return, Eddie was eating up all of your reactions, loving to hear your moans, desperate to have a recording of them because of how lovely they sounded.

Once you both reached your climaxes, Eddie pulled out of you and made you go pee while he disposed of the condom. He then joined you in the bathroom and the two of you got into the bed, not even bothering to put your clothes back on.

Eddie laid next to you and pulled you to him, bare skin to bare skin and pushed some your baby hairs off of your sweaty forehead. He then pressed a kiss to it and moved all the way down until he got to your lips, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

He then pressed his forehead to yours, his brown eyes boring into yours. His hand moved leisurely up and down your arm and he licked his lips before he spoke.

“What if I told you that I wanted to do that more often?”

“I’d totally let you.” If it was anything like you had just experienced, you’d let do it anytime he wanted.

“Well, what if I told you that I wanted you to be the only person that I slept with?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” What ever he was suggesting, you were down for.

“No, more like a boyfriend-girlfriend kind of thing.”

“I’d love that.” You rolled on top of Eddie and peppered his face in kisses while he let out numerous giggles. You then pulled him in for a kiss that left him breathless to solidify your relationship status. The first of many that night and for the rest of your lives.

[bears-fics]

Coffee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: cross-posted on ao3, bit buildup and dialouge heavy oops, no use of y/n, female reader, sub spencer and dom-ish reader (you're a bit sweet on him), spencer whines so much, degradation and praise kink (spencer), explicit consent, oral (fem receiving), coming untouched, multiple orgasms, protected p in v sex, riding, coming prematurely, overstimulation, dacryphilia, aftercare

Word Count: 3.2k

Summary: You discover something about Spencer after a sleepless night, and it doesn't leave your head until you can sort it out in a hotel room.

A/N: my first time writing smut so I hope it's okay :P comments/reblogs would be super appreciated but don't feel obligated!

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It started over coffee. It was a ritual, your favorite of the several you and Spencer shared. You would both come into work, way before anyone got there. Spencer would pour his coffee with its obscene amount of sugar, and you'd slot beside him to pour yours with its obscene amount of creamer. You'd talk, or Spencer would, normally about whatever obscure theory he was fixating on.

Today though, you made a beeline for your desk after filling your cup. It had been a sleepless night, filled with nightmares of the horrors you saw on the regular in this field, and you had a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.

You'd hoped Spencer would leave it, and he would've with anyone else, but he always was too comfortable around you. As you stood, so did he, and as you moved to refill your cup, he grabbed your hand.

"Spencer," you said, trying to keep your voice gentle despite your irritation.

He looked pointedly at your oversized cup. "Caffeine overconsumption can worsen anxiety and insomnia," he started, in that tone that indicated a rant, "as well as inhibiting focus, which you need for this job- well, you need sleep too, but that ship has sailed, from the looks of it-"

"Spencer," you practically growled, "shut up and let me pour the damn coffee."

You hadn't meant to sound quite so mad, and an apology was about to leave your mouth before you noticed the blush painting Spencer's face.

Blush?

It was undeniable. There was splotchy color covering his cheeks and the tip of his ears in a way you'd only seen whenever Morgan teased him about his sex life. He'd hunched in on himself, this 6'1 man somehow making himself small in front of you. He wouldn't look you in the eye, which wasn't new, but it felt different this time, and it didn't take long to figure out why. His pupils were blown wide, overtaking his irises.

And you were gaping at him like an idiot. Your jaw snapped shut as Spencer nodded before speed-walking to his desk, as if he was hoping you wouldn't notice.

Of course you noticed. You noticed everything about Spencer, from the way he twisted his hands to his perpetually mismatched socks. You noticed so many miniscule habits that even Spencer himself probably didn't that you could've started a notebook with them; not that you needed to, since they immediately stored themselves in the front of your mind. Obviously, you noticed the glances when he thought you weren't looking, the way he sat next to you on every flight, and the million other things that he would never do for anyone else.

It was something unspoken between you, a closeness you couldn't or wouldn't act on. It was fragile, sugar-spun glass painted with the shades of brown in his puppy-dog eyes. You were so afraid to break it by acting too soon, too fast. You knew you were harsh, too much. But you also knew it would have to come to a head eventually.

God, you needed more coffee.

-

You had a case that day. Of course you had a case that day.

You're a professional, you reminded yourself as JJ briefed the team.

Fraternization was frowned upon, you thought as Spencer's hand sat dangerously close to yours on the flight.

Bad idea, you reasoned when Spencer looked up at you through his eyelashes as you connected evidence.

Terrible idea, really, you grasped at when Spencer didn't stop looking at you after that.

It was torture, going through the motions of an entire case with the image of a flustered Spencer playing on loop every time he spoke. You were out of it, distracted, and not because of that second cup of coffee.

It boiled over when you asked an officer to repeat himself for the third time. Hotch had asked you to follow him in that "I'm extremely disappointed" tone that he'd perfected.

He led you into an empty room, near-slamming the door shut.

"What is going on with you?" Hotch starts, before taking a breath and cutting himself off.

"Listen, whatever is happening between you two, I need you to sort it out as soon as possible," he says. You open your mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. "We're all profilers," he points out with a raised eyebrow. He sighs.

"We're staying at a hotel tonight. Sleep it off or... do whatever you need to." He leaves you alone in the room. You compose yourself before facing the rest of your team.

"Sort it out."

Fuck it.

-

It took hours to work up the courage. Hours of pacing around your room combing over every possibility in your head. Every rule that was being broken. But, Hotch had told you to do what you needed to. And that image of Spencer wouldn't leave your mind.

It must have been around 2 AM when you finally ended up knocking on his door. You expected he would be up, but it still surprised you how quickly the door swung open. He hadn't even changed into pajamas, and you realized that in your haze of worry, neither had you.

"We need to talk," you said, firm. Spencer gulped and moved aside to let you in. You stood near the edge of his bed, one hand on your hip. Spencer sat on the bed, gazing up at you with a look that would've been innocent to anyone else.

"This morning," you start with a sigh, "I didn't mean to be that rude." Spencer looks like he wants to say something, but he's holding his tongue. "But, from the looks of it," you continue, "you didn't mind."

Spencer's mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Nothing comes out but a hitch of his breath. He's avoiding your eyes, staring past you to look at the blank wall. You can't have that.

You snap in front of his face, soft but stern, like you're trying to get a dog's attention. His eyes snap to you, pupils blown wide. “Look at me when I'm talking to you,” you say, in a gentle version of the tone you had used that morning.

He whimpers.

He fucking whimpers, maintaining eye contact like you'd asked him to.

You bite your lip slightly, rolling it between your teeth before letting it go. Spencer's face flushes that beautiful red as his hands fly to his crotch, trying in vain to cover a growing erection. You let out a laugh.

“Needy already? From me just talking to you? How pathetic, Spence.” Your voice is low and rough as you gently grab his wrists to move his hands. “Don't. I want to see you.”

The show of control has Spencer whimpering again, starting up at you pathetically as he gets impossibly redder. He's so far gone already, and it's filling your head with things you want to do to him, but you have to make sure he's truly okay with it first.

“Spencer,” you say as you let go of his wrists, earning you a whine, “can you come back to me for a second?” He just whines again, a far-off look on his face, so you let his breathing level out before you tilt his head towards you and pat his face until he looks at you again.

“Spencer,” you say again, still holding his face, “I need to know you want this.” He nods, almost frantic, but you tut at him. “Words,” you scold.

“I do, yes, I need it, please, anything-” Spencer babbles, before you lean down to cut him off with a bruising kiss. He whines immediately, letting you add tongue. You bite at his lower lip, making him moan.

Spencer pulls away to beg. “Please,” he says, “please, I need-” He cuts himself off with a whine, frustration evident.

“Aw, my stupid baby,” you coo, straightening up again. “What is it? Can't you talk, or are you that gone already?”

Spencer whimpers, flushing more at your degradation. “I wanna- I wanna taste you. Please.”

It takes you a second to process that. Spencer Reid, notorious germaphobe, wanted to eat you out. You paused so long that Spencer started to look worried. You unsuccessfully tried to form words a few times and then-

“Knees. Now.”

Your voice sounded commanding, even to you, so it was no surprise that Spencer scrambled to kneel. You stripped slowly, carefully, watching him to make sure he was staying still.

When you were naked, you took Spencer's place on the bed, spreading your legs. He slotted between your thighs, leaning his head on one and mouthing at it. You brought your hands up to his hair, petting it.

“Good boy,” you croon, “so patient for me.” Spencer is purely blissed out below you, all kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks. He looks like he'd be content to stay leaning on your thigh forever, just mouthing and biting, but you're impatient.

You grab his hair, gently pulling him to where you want him. He looks up at you, as if asking for permission. “Go ahead,” you grant. He nods and licks a stripe between your folds before circling his tongue around your clit. Your breathing quickens as your hand tightens in his hair and you let out a low moan.

Spencer whines around your clit, circling one of his lithe fingers around your hole before pushing it in, searching for the bundle of muscles that would make you shake. He finds it when you clench around him, and he adds another finger to keep curling into it as he sucks on your clit in earnest.

You're whimpering praises, “good boy”s and “so good”s, as Spencer keeps whining against you and sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

He switches the place of his fingers and tongue, using his thumb to circle your clit while his tongue fucks into you.

Your hand tightens in his hair, a borderline pull, and the feeling of Spencer whining in you sends you over the edge with a curse. He laps at you until you're squirming under him, so you use your hold in his hair to pull him back.

He looks heavenly, your slick and cum coating his mouth and chin as he pants. He smiles up at you dumbly.

“Fuck,” you moan. A pang of guilt hits you as you realize you've been ignoring Spencer's (probably painful by now) erection. You're opening your mouth to offer something when you notice the wet spot on the crotch of his pants. He avoids your gaze when he realizes you've figured it out.

“Spence,” you start, “did you-” He cuts you off with an apology. “I'm sorry, I- You just…” he trails off. You gape at him for a second, shaking your head.

“Don't apologize,” you say sternly. You pat the spot on the bed next to you, sending Spencer scrambling to get up, still blushing furiously.

You grab his hand once he's sat, trying to be gentle. “Do you want to stop?” you question. “No!” Spencer almost yells as soon as the words leave your mouth. “No,” he says again, quieter but just as desperate.

“What do you want?” you question. You like controlling him, you really do, but you also want to spoil him after he made you feel so good.

“Wanna be inside you,” he mumbles, staring at you with those big, doe eyes. You pause for a second- God, he needs to stop saying things that make you pause- before you crash your lips into his, frantically stripping him out of his clothes.

You get him down to his boxers before pulling him into your lap, licking into his mouth for what feels like an eternity. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and it's fucking divine. Unfortunately, you do have a need to breathe.

You pull away, touching your forehead to his as you pant. You break the trail of spit between your lips as you move to his neck to bite and suck a hickey too high up to be covered by his collar.

Spencer squirms and whines underneath you as he hardens again. You grind against him in circles, puffing against the mark you'd left. Finally feeling the outline of his dick reminds you of one glaring, unfortunate fact.

“I don't have protection,” you say, moving back from his neck. Spencer bites his lip, fidgeting with the back of your shirt. “I do,” he practically whispers. You nod to give him permission to go grab it, scooting over to give Spencer space to lay down like you want him to.

“Spence,” you say, grabbing his attention from his place at his go-bag. “You want a safeword?” you question when you have his attention. He hums. “Color system work?” you follow up. He hums again, turning around with a condom and a small lube bottle.

You bite your lips at the implication of getting to feel him inside you. “Come lay down,” you invite, patting the space beside you. He comes willingly, settling rigidly as he sets the items on the nightstand.

You move to sit on his thigh, rubbing his chest to soothe him. “I'm gonna ride you. Is that okay, sweet boy?” you ask. He nods, frantic, flushing down to his chest.

You grab his face. “We've been over this, Spencer. Words.” you reprimand. “Yes, please, please.” Spencer slurs, breathing heavily just from you teasing him.

You move your hand to his hair, stroking gently. “Good boy,” you encourage, your other hand toying with his boxers. You look at your hand, then up at him. “Please,” he whines. You lift yourself off his thigh, tapping his legs so he raises them and taking his boxers off.

His cock springs free, red and leaking and coated with his earlier orgasm. He's-

“So pretty,” you whisper, reverent. Spencer's dick twitches at the praise, making you bite your lip. It matches the rest of him, tall and built but also lean. The thought of taking it has you unconsciously grinding against his thigh.

You don't realize you're staring until Spencer whines and puts his hands on your hips to get your attention. “Sorry, baby,” you apologize. You take his hands off your hips and hold them at the headboard with one hand while grabbing the condom of the nightstand with the other. He goes impossibly redder with the restraint, dick twitching again.

You hold the condom up to his mouth. “Can you hold this for me, Spence?” you prompt. He understands immediately, taking it in his teeth as you rip it open. You take the trash out of his mouth and flick it aside before rolling the condom on in a fluid motion that has Spencer bucking into your hand. You hold his hips down once your hand is free, a scolding expression on your face.

“Sorry,” Spencer mumbles. Your face softens. “It's okay, sweet boy,” you croon, “just be good for me for a bit more.” He nods frantically, an almost pout on his face.

You let go of his hip and his hands to grab and pop open the bottle of lube. Spencer whines from the lack of contact. “Shh,” you soothe as you squeeze lube on your hands, throwing the bottle somewhere in the mess of clothes on the floor before stroking it up and down his cock. He shakes with the effort to not buck into your hand this time.

“Good boy,” you praise as you lift your hips up and brace your hands on his stomach. He whines in anticipation.

Slowly, carefully, you sink yourself down inch by inch. Spencer's a mess beneath you, whimpering and shaking with the effort to not thrust up into you. It's a view that you would cross oceans to see, and he's giving it to you willingly.

“Good job, baby, so patient,” you pant as you bottom out and begin to rock your hips to get used to the full feeling. You squeeze your thighs around Spencer's hips, keeping one hand on his stomach and moving the other to pin his hands again.

He whines, impossibly loud, to the point the team can probably hear him since you're all in the same hallway, but you're way too focused on the stretch of Spencer's cock to care.

You take a shaking breath before you begin to move in earnest, going almost all the way up before slamming back down with a moan before setting a normal pace.

Tears prick at the corners of Spencer's eyes before rolling down his flushed cheeks as you move faster and faster, chasing the high coiling in the pit of your stomach, and then-

Spencer gives a long, drawn out whine and you feel the condom fill.

You stop moving, snapping your eyes open to glare at him. He's gone, completely, so you snap in front of his face again to get his attention.

“Spencer, did I say you could do that?” you scold. His eyes snap open, tears still streaming as he shakes his head frantically. “I'm sorry, I'll be good, I swear-”

“No,” you snap, cutting him off as you start rocking your hips again, “that was bad. And you know what bad boys get? Punished.” Spencer starts sobbing in earnest under you, hiccuping around the words he's trying to form. “I can't,” he cries, “I can't, too much, please-”

“Shh,” you soothe as you rock back and forth and feel him hardening inside you, “you know your safeword. You can be good for me, can't you?”

Spencer nods and whines and sobs frantically as you start moving again. With his spent dick twitching inside you and the sight of a man with an IQ of 187 hiccuping beneath you, it doesn't take long for you to cum again. The way you clench around Spencer sends him over the edge too, whining still.

You give Spencer a few minutes, let the tears stop and the fog in his eyes clear before you stand up off of him and tie off the condom. When you go to throw it away, he grabs your wrist. “Don't go,” he slurs sleepily, barely a whisper. “I'm just cleaning us up,” you assure him.

You toss the condom and grab a washcloth from the bathroom, cleaning the slick from Spencer's chin and your thighs as well as the dried cum off of his dick. He's too spent to have much of a reaction to anything, so you have to tap him to get his attention before tossing some of his boxers at him.

“You mind if I borrow something?” you ask as Spencer covers himself up. He nods, too tired for words, and you steal boxers and a sweater before crawling back into bed with him.

You're nearly asleep when he nudges you. “What is it?” you mumble. “Love you.” Spencer says, like it's the most sure he's ever been of anything. You open your eyes and stroke his face, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. “Love you too.” you whisper, and it's the most sure you've ever been too.

Spencer spoons into your chest as you drift off, and despite it being so late, you wake up the most rested you've ever been.

[mariasont]

Negotiating with Mr. H - pt. 2

a/n: part two to this

god im such a shluuuut for this man anyhow happy reading

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!nanny!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, unprotected p in v (DONT DO THAT, boo tomatoes), use of sir and mr. hotchner in bed, dirty talk, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, honey, etc.), idk im terrible at warnings

wc: 2k

The hours had stretched into days since you all but threw yourself at Mr. Hotchner. The morning after unfolded with him dodging your company as if you were a wildfire, claiming a day at the zoo with Jack as a shield, yet you saw it as a deliberate distance he put between you. No sooner had they returned, the call for a case arrived. Typical.

But you found no room for embarrassment within yourself; you had played your hand, and he had been receptive, at least so you thought. If he had changed his mind, that was within his right; still, you wished he'd say something about it.

Your fingers tenderly combed through Jack's hair, the soft strands slipping between them, as you gently closed the book, careful not to wake him. He had a nightmare, but you soothed away the scary bits with 'The Very Hungry Caterpillar', as you coaxed him back to sleep. It was his go-to comfort read--and secretly, yours too. You eased your legs over the edge, each step a muted brush against the carpet. You flicked off the light, the soft thud of the book on the nightstand, and you stepped into the hallway--the door sealing behind you softly.

You moved with soft steps towards your room, hands outstretched as they found the doorknob, pushing it open with the slightest pressure. You froze mid-step, the distinct click of the front door's latch piercing the silence. Subconsciously, a plan formed in your mind, as if waiting for this cue. You made a beeline for the closet, fingers flying as you shimmied into your favorite panties and a cropped white long sleeve that highlighting your stiffening nipples. Listening intently for the sound of his footsteps, you slid under the sheets, the door left invitingly open, your legs peeking out as if by chance.

Was this wrong? Certainly, but the blood rushing to your cunt didn't care. You were acutely aware of each groan from the wooden steps under his weight as he made his way upstairs, and you could almost catch the hush of his breath as he lingered at Jack's room, the door's creak broadcasting his quiet check.

You snapped your eyes shut, the sound of his nearing steps triggering an automatic response. You knew he'd have to pass your room to get to his. Every sense tingled to life as his footsteps hesitated at your door. Even with your back facing him, you felt his eyes roam over you, his breath turning heavy, hanging in the air.

You exhaled a shaky breath, feeling it vibrate through the stillness as he continued on to his room. The urge to swear was heavy on your tongue, the realization dawning that your plan had left no impression on him. You turned restlessly, feeling the bite of your failed efforts. Yet, when you propped yourself up, there he was--Mr. Hotchner, standing motionless in the doorway.

"Oh, Mr. Hotchner! I--I didn't realize you were home. How was the case?" Your question floated on a note higher than usual, yet you made no move to hide your body from him, welcoming the observation.

"Really? You didn't hear me? I could have sworn I heard movement in your room as I came in," he remarked, his piercing gaze locking onto you as he casually propped himself against the frame of the door.

"Movement? Could've been the wind," you suggest, your smile bright and inviting, arms falling away to give him a full display of your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt.

His response is brief, a deliberate blink, a silent count to ten, before his gaze sharpens, a frown forming as he closes the distance between you, the door shutting behind him. "The wind, huh?" he echoed, "I've been neck-deep in a nightmare of case, and this is what I come home to?"

You maneuver closer, your legs now casually exposed as you perch on the bed's edge. "What's wrong, Mr. Hotchner? Don't appreciate the view?"

His presence fills the space by your bed. "The view," he begins, his eyes taking a leisurely journey from your exposed legs up to meet your gaze, "is more than agreeable."

You hand snakes out, catching the silk of that god damn tie, drawing him closer. "Well. Mr. Hotchner, aren't you going to do something about this agreeable view?" you challenge, eyes wide and expectant.

Assertively, he captures your chin, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You should know by now, I'm very much a man of action."

He leans down, a predator claiming his willing prey, and his mouth captures yours in a kiss that sends a surge of electricity through your veins, your fingers curling into the fabric of his suit as if the meld him into you. The way his lips were attached to yours sent shockwaves straight to your core, hands moving from his lapels to his hair.

"Didn't think you had it in you, Mr. Hotchn--," you mumbled against his mouth, but you were swiftly cut off as his teeth dug into your bottom lip.

"The next time you say my name, it's going to be when my cock is buried so deep inside you that you can't form anything else but that name."

And in that moment, you could've sworn you'd never felt desire until he said those words. He began to trail sloppy kisses up your neck, your head arching back, surrendering to the sweet attention he lavished upon the column of your throat. There was a quiet authority in his actions, as he parted your thighs, his fingers grazing closer to your clothed cunt as his other hand pushed you flat against the bed.

A gasp fluttered from your lips, a delicate sound of shock. You would've never pegged him to be like this in bed. So fucking demanding. Your thighs instinctively sought each other, but his large hand held them apart, keeping you open, vulnerable.

You looked up at him with doe eyes, wide and brimming with lust, and it reflected a beauty so intense he was sure it could halt time. He was sure he must've done something right in this life to be privileged enough to see you like this—so submissive despite your big talk, so eager to please. It sent a rush to every part of his body, specifically his cock which stretched against his dress pants, begging to be released.

He wanted to take his time, to worship your body in the way it deserved, but there was nothing slow or soft about his movements. His hands explored every inch of your body as if he'd been touch starved his whole life.

"Pl-Please, sir, please touch me," you begged, your hips bucking against the graze of his hands.

The word 'sir' triggered a slight twitch in his cock, his voice a throaty rumble. "Feel that? I'm touching you, honey," he teased, his touch a tantalizing drag against your skin, inching your shirt upward, a smug smile etched on his handsome face.

"You know what I mean," you insisted, your hand intertwining with his in a silent plea, guiding them to where you wanted.

"I can't read your mind, sweetheart," he chides softly, his touch retreating teasingly, "be a good girl and tell me where you want me to touch you."

Your mind was going blank, so desperate for him you could almost feel your arousal leaking down your thighs.

"Here?" he questioned, his hands coming to rest on your ankles as he propped them on the edge of the bed, leaving your legs spread wide in front of him. You shook your head in response, a whine leaving your lips, "or here," he said, his hands moving up to your thighs.

You wiggled in his grip. "Mmm, getting closer aren't I?" he taunted, "use your words pretty girl, tell me how to help."

"Mr. Hotchner, please, need you inside me," your words were more slurred than you intended, sitting up to lock your hands behind his neck, your breath fanning his.

"You don't need it, you want it," he corrected, his lips brushing the sensitive skin behind your ear, his arm a steady band across your back, pulling you closer. "However, lucky for you, I'm inclined to be generous."

His hands eased you back towards the bed, your hands fingering through his hair as he made quick work with your underwear before tapping your shirt. "Take this off honey."

Without hesitation, you complied, flinging it carelessly to the bed's opposite edge, shifting to prop yourself up on your elbows. 

 "God, you're so beautiful."

The words seemed to empty your lungs of air, your face turning a delicate shade of pink as you beamed at him, your smile sticky with sweetness. His fingers found your nipples, teasing and tugging as you let out soft little whimpers, arching into his touch.

"Feels so good, sir," you moaned, hands digging into the sheets, leaning towards him to close the distance between you two, your lips seeking his in a tender collision.

You could sense his mouth curve into a silent smirk against yours as his hands moved with unhurried intent to your swollen clit, eliciting an involuntary gasp from you as you writhed on the mattress. You could hear his other hand undoing his belt as his continued his leisurely movements against your cunt. In a smooth, practiced motion, he pulled out his cock from his pants.

Your mouth parted slightly at the length of it, and you had to fight off the urge to drool at the sight. Thankfully he didn't make you beg for it, sliding into you with an ease that made your head fall back against the mattress.

"Shit," he hissed, his hands finding a natural perch upon the gentle swell of your hips. "You're so wet, honey. How long have you wanted this? Hmm?"

"S-So long," you muttered, a moan pausing your sentence, "wanted you for so long."

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, his words interlaced with the obscene sound of his length pounding in and out of your drenched pussy. 

"Feels so good, Mr. Hotchner."

He let out a soft groan in response, his hands tangling through your hair. Your name rolled off his tongue as you clenched around him. He had to move his hands to the bed beside your head, trying to resist the urge to absolutely destroy you.

Your moans heightened with each thrust causing his hand to fly over your mouth, eyes rolling back to your head. "Need you to be quiet, honey. You can do that for me can't you?"

You nodded desperately against his palm, hands reaching out to close around his shoulders as you moved to meet his thrusts, the familiar coil beginning to wind in your core.

"I know you're close, sweetheart. Need you to hold on just a little longer."

He let out a breathy chuckle at your body's reaction, desperately bucking against him. Hotch revealed in the sound of your pussy squishing around him, so wet you're practically soaking his dress pants.

Your slur his name as he reaches between you, his thumb rubbing feverishly at your clit. "Go ahead, honey, cum for me."

His words were all you needed, gushing around his cock as he continued to fuck you through your high. He let out a strangled groan of his own, pumping you full of his cum. His large body slumped against yours, his head ducking into the crook of your neck as you both attempted to catch your breath.

He slowly lifted off of you, tucking his cock back into his pants as moved to grasp your ankle, rubbing comforting circles over the skin.

"Tell me, was that personal bonus sufficient for you?"

Your giggle, light and airy, filled the space as you gingerly lifted yourself, hands laying a gentle claim on his chest, your smile blooming across your lips. It was in this moment he knew he would do anything to keep you like this--content, utterly fucked and next time in his bed.

"Well, I can't say for sure, Mr. Hotchner," you admit, your kiss on his cheek lingering a moment longer. "I work really hard around here, maybe another round would satiate me."

"I don't know think anything would satiate you, honey."

"Maybe so, but isn't it tempting to see if something can?"

"Undoubtedly."

taglist: @mrs-ssa-hotch

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone who you happen to have a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 2.7k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, flirting (wonwoo is a menace), jealousy. [pls let me know if i missed anything!]

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] i hope you guys enjoy this! it's most likely going to be a two-parter so definitely let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! i would greatly appreciate it if you guys reblogged (maybe with comments too ^^) since i thrive on your guys' validation :)

You were tired, very tired.

Granted, this was your own doing. Maybe if you hadn't pushed your responsibilities to the side last night you wouldn't have had to wake up so early to study for an exam, but what's done is done. This whole college thing was not going so well, to say the least. Sure, it's only the beginning of the second semester, but you already feel exhausted by all of your class workloads.

Just ten more minutes of this boring lecture and you could finally go home and crawl into bed. But… that's only if you avoid him today. Which now that you’re thinking about it, you hope he isn’t waiting for you outside, again. That would be the last thing you needed today.

With that being said, things have felt a little weird if you were being honest. Of course, this was your first year of university, so things were bound to feel new and different. But there was something, or rather someone that was making you feel strange.

Around two weeks ago you noticed that Wonwoo, an old classmate of yours, had recently started to become a bit friendly towards you. While that normally wouldn’t be considered weird, you couldn’t help but feel skeptical about his intentions. You knew the kind of people he surrounded himself with, and especially the girls he would go after; which was the exact opposite of you. So what exactly did he want from you?

What also makes this situation more odd is that you’ve basically known Wonwoo for your whole life. Of course, you don’t actually know him, you just happened to go to the same elementary, middle, and high school (which is insane if you think about it). Acquaintance is a perfect word to describe your relationship with him, nothing more nothing less. So yeah… it’s a little weird when the guy you have been around for (almost) your whole life is suddenly trying to befriend you, there definitely had to be something wrong with him.

All you knew about Wonwoo was that he was on the more reserved and quiet side; mainly keeping to himself most of the time. His group of friends was quite the opposite of him, which always made you wonder how he even became friends with them in the first place.

Seeing how the lecture was ending soon, you started to pack your stuff; you were more than ready to dash straight out of the classroom. Having finished all of your assignments for today, you had nothing left to worry about. So once the professor had made her goodbyes, you made a straight beeline to the door, nothing was going to hold you back from your long-awaited nap. Your pace was brisk, attempting to avoid the backed-up main exit, you decided to go to the opposite door. The walk back to your apartment wasn’t too bad either, most of the time you saw it as a way to daydream and listen to music. So while you scrolled through your various playlists, you happened to miss the (very obvious) figure following you.

Wonwoo called out your name a few times until it finally dawned on him that you had your headphones on. He took a few long strides to catch up to you; he was very adamant on getting your attention this morning. With ease, he quickly plucked your headphones off of your head.

“What are we listening to today?” He said while adjusting the headphones on his head. It took you a second to fully process what he was doing. You knew he was doing it to provoke you, but you were determined to not let that happen today. So to his surprise, you simply kept walking. You figured that he would continue with his antics if you gave him the reaction that he wanted so you did the opposite, you ignored him.

What shocked him the most was seeing you pull out an old pair of earbuds and plugging them into your phone. He was dumbfounded to say the least, how were you so prepared and why were you ignoring him?

And again, he quickly caught up with a few simple steps. He took your headphones off of his head and tapped them against your shoulder.

With a tired sigh, you turned around to face him but couldn’t help but admire his face. You really didn't want to lose that ‘expressionless’ look you were going for (to help you ignore him of course), but that small smile of his was enough to crack you down. It's like he knew that it was your one weakness when it came to him. This was the most annoying part of it all. Anytime he smiled or looked at you, a tiny part inside you secretly liked it, making you crave his attention at times.

Objectively speaking, Wonwoo was very handsome. That was something you could never deny, you would even go as far as to say that he was your type but you didn't particularly like the people he called his ‘friends’ so you were stuck in a weird limbo.

“Is there something on my face, birdy?”

You scoffed at the nickname. “I told you not to call me that.”

Wonwoo’s eyes were looking straight into yours, a smirk slowly creeping up to his lips. It didn't help that he was looking really good today either, his messy hair combined with the whole biker fit did wonders for your eyes. He was about to say something before you heard your ringtone go off, evidently cutting him off.

Oh.

It was Hyunwoo. That's odd... you finished your shared project with him rather early, what could he be calling you about? Either way, you answered the random call in front of a rather annoyed Wonwoo.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy yn, I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch later today?" You couldn't help but feel your eyes widen at his sudden question. Since when did he want to hang out with you? Last time you checked he had a plethora of girls that he was talking to... maybe he was interested in you? No, you shouldn't get too ahead of yourself...

"Um... let me check if I have anything to do first. Can I call you back?" You knew that you sounded nervous but how else were you supposed to feel when the cute guy from your physics class was literally asking you to eat lunch with him?

As soon as you ended the call, you felt Wonwoo's arm snake its way down to your waist. You couldn’t help but yelp at the sudden intimate contact. Chuckling at your reaction, he leaned down, closer to your ear. “Who was that?”

"No one." You stated simply, it wasn't his business anyway.

"Hm, okay," Wonwoo rested his head on your shoulder, continuing to speak lowly in your ear. "I'll remember that birdy."

Before you could even come up with something to counter him, he decided to speak up once again.

"Well, I do have something rather important to tell you." His voice was so calm and soothing, you could honestly listen to it for hours on end if you had the chance.

"What is it?" You hoped he couldn't sense your rather, embarrassing, curiosity.

"Heard you used to have a little crush on me," his voice was evidently smug, knowing that this would surely get a rise out of you.

Which it did.

Your face burned at the memories of when you used to have a crush on Wonwoo. But, that had to be in fourth grade… so how could he have known about that? Nonetheless, you scoffed at his statement, not wanting to know that you were a little embarrassed by the sudden reminder.

“Key word, had,” you rolled your eyes at him. This did make you curious though, who could have possibly told him that? So you asked him exactly that.

“How do you even know about that?” His smile never faltered even as you lightly pushed his hand away from your waist. If anything, this made him want to touch you even more.

“I have my ways,” he stated simply. Of course, he does. You hated when he would shrug things off, now this was going to bother you for the entire week!

One thing about Wonwoo was that he has always been curious about you, this interest stemming back all the way to your elementary days. This curiosity eventually intensified in junior year of high school when you began to show your blatant distaste towards him. He just had to get to know you.

He looked down at you, his face was unreadable like always. You never knew what was going on in that mind of his.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be hanging out with your actual friends?" Sometimes you couldn't help but blurt out your thoughts to him even if they sounded a bit rude. His face faltered for a split second, probably caught off guard by the random question. Shoot, you really didn’t mean to say that out loud. Although, it looks like Wonwoo didn’t take any offense to your sudden question. If anything, it made him... smile?

“I am hanging out with my friend,” he stopped you to face him, “which is you.” You rolled your eyes at him. That had to be the corniest thing he has ever said to you if you were being honest. You just hated that giddy feeling he would give you any time he said something remotely cheesy.

"Ugh, you're so dumb," you groaned while checking the time on your phone. It was getting close to noon and you hadn't responded to Hyunwoo's question from earlier. Maybe it was best if you didn't go... who knows what he wanted from you. If you were being completely honest, you didn't know if you had it in you to see other people at the moment, aside from Wonwoo of course.

"Have somewhere to be?" Wonwoo asked, a hint of concern peeking through his voice.

"No, thank god, but I do have a scheduled nap to get to so if you don't mind-" you were cut off by the sound of an engine revving, making your body jump at the unexpected noise. You turned to see where the source of the commotion was coming from but then realized it was coming from a group of bikers nearby; most likely Wonwoo's friends.

Or so you thought?

Wonwoo didn't seem too pleased with the group that was getting closer to where the two of you were. On the contrary, Wonwoo looked pissed. His jaw was visibly clenched, the gentle grip he had on your waist tightened, and his eyes lost that playful spark he had earlier. You couldn't help but feel guilty for thinking about how hot Wonwoo looked when he was angry. Of course, you would never want to be on the receiving end of his anger but seeing it on the sidelines was quite... interesting.

Wait. This might actually be serious, so it's best if you leave before anything crazy happens.

"I think I'm going to head out now..." you said quietly as you tried to slip away from Wonwoo's (awfully) strong grasp.

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening once they landed on your figure. Why did they have to come and bother him at this exact moment? He knew that whatever was going to happen was not going to be pretty, but he found himself reluctant to let you go.

Before truly letting you go, he quietly asked, "Are you sure? I can take you home if you want me to." As soft as his voice was, he still managed to sound composed which was comforting considering the situation.

You nodded in response, "I don't live that far from here so it's fine, thank you for the offer though." You managed to flash him a small, awkward smile before turning away from him and heading toward the direction of your apartment. You didn't know what exactly was going on between those guys and Wonwoo but it for sure wasn't friendly. Although it wasn't exactly your issue, you couldn't help but feel worried about Wonwoo, even if he was a pain in the ass sometimes.

Much to your dismay, that scheduled nap never came your way that day.

You blame Wonwoo, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully knowing he was probably getting jumped? Okay, you might be jumping to conclusions but what else were you supposed to think about when he was visibly angry at the mere sight of those guys?

Realistically speaking, it's only been two days since that whole incident happened. Granted, you haven't seen Wonwoo since then but that could mean a lot of things.

[...]

While you were in line to get a smoothie from one of the pop-up shops near the campus, you felt a sudden tap on your shoulder.

"Did my little birdy miss me?" You felt Wonwoo say right next to your ear, his breath fanning across your earlobe. It sent a wave of tingles down your spine, making you shudder in turn. Though you weren't a fan of his spontaneous appearance.

"God, you need to stop doing that! I almost slapped you I swear-" You stopped mid-way once you turned around and saw his face. He had a few cuts on his lips and eyebrows and one big bruise across his cheek. Those guys really did a number on him.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern, "are you okay?"

He tried to wave it off but you could tell he was bothered by your question, "It's fine, really, don't worry about it." Was he insane? How were you not going to worry when he was visibly injured?

"Were these from the guys on Tuesday?" You couldn't help but ask, where else would he get these cuts and bruises if it didn't come from them?

His demeanor immediately switched and he pushed himself away from you.

"It's none of your business so stay out of it."

"Okay." That was the only thing you said before grabbing your smoothie from the worker and quickly walking away from the shop. If he wanted to be like that then so be it. You most definitely were not going to wait for him to 'open up' by all means, he could throw himself a pity party for all you care.

"Wait-" He tried reaching for your arm but you were too quick for him. Your steps were swift, helping you create a reasonable distance between you and Wonwoo. He called out your name a few times before giving up, he didn't want to gather any unwanted attention from the people nearby. Reaching your pace, Wonwoo was finally close enough to grab your wrist and make you look at him.

"Are you seriously ignoring me?" His voice was a bit jagged, no doubt coming from the unexpected cardio you made him do to catch up to you.

Unfortunately for him, you were petty. "You said it wasn't my business, so please do not talk to me because I really do not care." You brushed past him once again this time making sure he could not grab your arms or wrists.

He exhaled in annoyance, "Look I'm sorry-" Wonwoo was mid-apology before being abruptly cut off by the voice of a guy yelling your name out loud.

Speaking of the devil, what immaculate timing.

"Hey yn! Did you still want to get food after class?" Hyunwoo jogged to where you were standing but saw how Wonwoo was still trying to talk to you.

"Sorry, were you busy with him?"

You instantly responded to Hyunwoo, "No, he was just asking for directions, but yeah I'm down for food." Like before, you made your way towards Hyunwoo, making sure to bump into Wonwoo. He couldn't help but stay frozen in place as he watched you walk to class with some random guy, jealousy slowly invading his mind.

Directions? Did she really...?

As much as Wonwoo wanted to be mad at you, he really had no one to blame but himself. The whole situation with his old group of 'friends' was really getting to him so once you popped that question it just seemed to send him over the edge. He just didn't know how far you would go to express your annoyance towards him. Now all he had to do was find a way to properly apologize to you before that Hyunwoo guy got to you first.

The only thing stopping him? He didn't have your number or any of your socials...

Part Two: II

[419jhat]

Not Just Friends

Summary: Eddie flirts with Steve constantly, and Steve flirts back. The lines start to blur, and Eddie gets all in his head about it, until he sees Steve with another guy and realizes that their weird little game was never that special at all. Or...maybe Steve's just a dumbass.

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,230

***

“Family Video, this is Steve.”

“Hey, hot stuff, wanna make a big mistake?” Eddie asks.  

“You sure it wouldn't be a small mistake?” Steve shoots back with zero hesitation.

“What- I'll have you know, it would be a very big mistake, Harrington. Extra large, ok? Ok maybe not extra large but definitely large,” Eddie insists.

“Eddie,” Steve sighs, “did you call me this morning for a specific reason or are you awake with the sun for once on accident?”

Eddie clears his throat. He’ll never get over how easily Steve accepts the flirting. It makes him wonder what's going on in that pretty little head. Did he think Eddie was joking? Did he secretly like it?

“Do you want a movie or something? I'm free tonight,” Eddie asks, fiddling with the phone cord.

“What makes you think I'm free tonight?”

“The fact that you're never doing anything?” 

“Jesus, Munson. Or something.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“I work at a movie store. I watch movies all day. No movies. I want the something.”

“It's a date,” Eddie dares to say.

“Whatever you say,” Steve says. Eddie can hear the smile in his voice just before the line goes dead. He feels a little accomplished, even if all he did was invite the guy over. Something he did every week at this point. But hey, this was progress, right?

He turns to look at the clutter in his bedroom and recalls the expression in Steve's face when he saw how dirty his old mattress was. 

He starts cleaning.

About an hour later, when he's been thoroughly sidetracked with reorganizing the miniatures on his dresser, he hears a knock at the door. He flings the bedsheet into something nicer than the crumpled mess it had been and rushed to the door.

“Welcome to my humble abode, your highness,” he says with as he opens the door. Steve's fanning his shirt, sweat dripping down his forehead, but still waits patiently for Eddie to get out of the way like the perfect little houseguest. When he does, Steve beelines straight for Eddie's bedroom. He strips his shirt off and collapses on the bed under the window AC, basking in the cool air.

“Damn, Harrington, I see how it is,” Eddie says, then he squeaks when Steve balls up his shirt and tosses it at his head.

“Can’t you buy me dinner first? I'm feeling used,” Eddie jokes.

Steve pats the bed next to him.  “Lay down next to me.”

Eddie listens, because he's a hopeless fool. He leaves some room between them, since he's already been coming on kind of strong today and doesn't want to scare Steve off for real. But then Steve closes the gap and rests his head on Eddie's chest.

He says something. Eddie's not sure what it is because he's too busy trying not to do something stupid like pulls steve on top of him and squeeze him as tight as he can.

“Hmm?” Eddie asks, when he realizes Steve is silent again.

“I said, do you want to turn on the radio?”

“Oh! Why didn't you say so?” Eddie asks with a nervous chuckle.

“I did,” Steve says.

Eddie balances on his elbow and awkwardly stretches to reach the radio without jostling Steve's head. He's starting to form a cramp in his wrist from twisting it all wrong just to reach the thing when the weight on his chest lifts and suddenly, a shirtless Steve Harrington has one arm braced by Eddie's head and the other reaching across him.

Eddie stares at the hair on his chest, the dusty nipples right within reach of his mouth, the little moles dotting across his skin, tanned from whatever it was he willingly did outside in the summer heat all day.

“Got it,” Steve says, and suddenly Madonna’s singing in the background.

“You changed the channel,” Eddie complains distractedly. His palms are sweaty. He's hoping and praying that Steve won't look at his face and see whatever expression he's making because just knows it's going to be embarrassing. And apparently the man upstairs is on his side because Steve just lowers himself right there, right onto Eddie's chest. 

“Your heart is racing,” he says.

Eddie can feel it, just like he can feel the rise and fall of Steve's chest with every breath, and the way his fingers curl around the hem of Eddie's t-shirt.

“Because you're so heavy,” Eddie scolds lightly, using the opportunity to touch the bare skin on Steve's back. He lets his hands linger there, and then decides to take a bigger risk and indulges a little, running his hand down his spine and then back up again to the soft hair at the nape of his neck. It's gotten a little long. He wonders if Steve's planning on growing it out as he plays with it.

“You know, people make fun of her, but Madonna is actually really talented. Did you see her new music video on MTV? She really knows how to stick it to the conservatives,” Eddie rambles. He's not sure why he's saying it. He respects Madonna, but he's more nervous of Steve realizing how weirdly intimate this position is and punching him in retaliation, or something.

“Yeah?” Steve asks. Eddie can feel his mouth moving against him as he speaks. And then, just because Steve is for some reason compelled by the universe to drive Eddie insane, he says, “I bet you could do better.”

Eddie tries not to scream.

~.~.~

Steve calls him next time. Doesn't even introduce himself, like he knows that the mere sound of his voice commands Eddie to do his bidding.

“Hey, man. Want me to pick you up after work?”

Eddie's never been one to need a plan to agree to something, but obviously he's going to say yes. Steve could invite him to sit in the ocean as the tide went up and he'd be perfectly fine doing it. 

“Sure,” he says casually. He tries to think of what else to say, but before he can, Steve's already hung up.

Eddie got a new job through Wayne's buddy at the local parks and rec center, cleaning up and maintaining their public spaces. It's outside, which practically burns his soul through the mandatory jumper he has to wear in the summer heat, but he likes that people leave him alone. The town still doesn't trust him, but he puts up with it for Wayne and the kids.

And Steve.

He stands outside and waits next to the tiny building his boss does all the paperwork in, blocking the sun from his face with his hand until he sees that familiar BMW rolling towards him.

“Did you have a good day?” Steve asks, because he's genuinely nice like that.

“Eh,” Eddie says as he climbs into the passenger seat, “I had to wash vomit off a slide from a kid's birthday party. I've had better.”

Steve's nose wrinkles with sympathy. He's got the windows down, probably because it's hot as balls outside, but it's whipping his hair all over the place. Eddie wants to reach over and fix it, but he's not so sure Steve would like that. He's so distracted by it all that he doesn't even notice they're pulling to a stop on the road that backs up to the quarry.

“What's going on?” Eddie asks.

Steve smiles wickedly.

“Wanna smoke?” he asks.

“Oh?” Eddie says, lifting an eyebrow. He didn't expect that. Especially since it's his weed Steve's asking to smoke.

“You asking or offering, Harrington?”

“Both,” he says coyly, pulling a spare joint from his box of cigarettes. It's one Eddie gave him a few days earlier. He lights up and passes it over, his hand hovering in the short space between them. Eddie stares, thinking about how Steve's lips were just on the end of it, and now his lips are going to be too. It's kind of like a kiss, in a way. The idea makes him blush.

“So…is this how you treat all the girls, big boy?” Eddie teases.

“What?” Steve asks. He doesn't sound angry, so Eddie keeps pushing. 

“A secluded parking spot in the woods at dusk, some weed, windows down. All we're missing is a little music and it could make a guy fall in love,” Eddie says, holding a hand to his heart.

Steve turns the keys in the ignition, bringing the radio and AC back to life.

“One can only dream,” Steve says with a wink that has no business being as smooth as it is.

And God, how Eddie can dream. He wonders yet again, if Steve is really this oblivious to their little game. 

Steve turns the car back off and runs a hand through his hair like he does when he's thinking hard about something. Eddie can only hope it's that he's suddenly realizing that he's into men. He takes the joint, willing himself to stop thinking of foolish things. 

With the car off, and it's starting to get disgustingly warm, so he focuses on that instead. Focuses so much on it that he ends up peeling the top half of his jumper off revealing an old ripped Metallica shirt.

“I'm sorry we couldn't save your guitar,” Steve says suddenly. 

“Hmm?” Eddie asks. He meets Steve's eyes in the rearview mirror. Steve's staring at his shirt. “Oh, it's ok. I mean, it isn't, actually. I'll miss that thing until the end of time. But that's kind of the point, right? I can miss it because you guys saved my life, so, it's fine.”

He's rambling, because it feels ungrateful to feel sad about the loss of his guitar. His baby. His one and only. 

Steve places a comforting hand just above his knee. It's warm, and weirdly intimate enough that it shakes Eddie out of his mournful thoughts.

“It's ok to be sad, man. You were pretty cool with that thing,” he says.

Eddie can't process Steve Harrington telling him he looked cool and touching his thigh at the same time. It's simply too much for him to handle. He takes another hit, keeping his mouth too busy to say something embarrassing. 

“I never got to see you perform. I mean, I saw a bit of your show in the upside down, but nothing else,” Steve says.

“I can play something for you sometime,” Eddie says, before he can think it through.

“You'd do that for me?” Steve asks. Which is a stupid question. Eddie would obviously do anything for Steve.

His hand is still on Eddie's thigh. Guys don't usually do that, do they? Was Steve flirting with him for once? Without provocation?

“Yeah, I've got another guitar. It's an acoustic, but it does the job.”

Steve's quiet for a moment. Long enough that Eddie focuses back on his fingers slowly tapping his knees, like he's thinking something through.

“You want to go swimming?” Steve asks.

“... really?” Eddie asks, surprised that Steve would even want to after everything that happened with the upside down. Steve seems to understand, because his expression softens and then he shrugs. 

“I think it would be easier if someone went with me,” he says softly.

It occurs to Eddie that this must have been Steve's plan the whole time, and maybe the weed and talk of guitars was just a distraction. It's honest and vulnerable enough that it makes him feel a little honored that he held Steve’s trust. He can't say no to that, so he agrees before he can even ask about swimsuits. 

Steve releases his knee and climbs out of the car, walking toward the Quarry with a look over his shoulder to check if Eddie's following. Eddie wipes the sweat from his brow and looks up just in time to see Steve removing his shirt. 

He can't look away, and that's how he gets the shock of his life when Steve removes his jeans too.

“Oh- uh,” Eddie stutters.

Then, off goes the underwear and Eddie's got an eye full of a round, tan, Harrington ass. 

At this point, the sun is setting and Eddie doubts anyone could see them in any amount of detail. But he doesn't know what to do with a naked hot dude right in front of him. Does he touch? He wants to touch. But Steve is confusing, and touching might not go well. Instead of standing around like a lovesick dumbass, Eddie wolf whistles and dramatically fans his face.

“Well, I'll be damned, Harrington. Maybe you're the extra large between the two of us!” he says, even though he can't actually see Steve's dick with him turned around. Steve completely ignores him.

“Come on!” he says, rushing toward the shoreline. Eddie quickly decides that he likes Steve enough to get naked with him, even if it's not in a sexy way. He kicks off his boots and leaps toward the water with a shout.

~.~.~

Steve’s got his head resting in the spot between Eddie's thigh and hip bone, competing for space next to his guitar as Eddie plucks away songs he knows he'd recognize.

“You're so talented,” Steve says, for the millionth time that night. He's repeating it over and over, pushing Eddie's ego sky high. 

“I just play what I hear,” he says humbly.

“I can't even sing what I hear,” Steve says with a little laugh. He's got his legs hanging over the edge of the couch, feet tapping along to the best as Eddie plays.

“It's not that hard. I can show you, if you want,” Eddie says.

Steve looks up at him through his hair. “Really?”

“Get up, buttercup, and I'll give you a short lesson,” Eddie says.

Steve lifts himself away from Eddie and sits up on the couch, shoving Wayne's favorite pillow into the floor. Eddie decides the pillow can survive the disrespect and shoves the only remaining shard of his shattered musical soul into Steve's arms. Steve holds onto it like it's made of glass, which is a good first step in Eddie's opinion.

Eddie moves Steve's fingers into the correct position to play Yesterday, which is kind of setting a beginner up for failure with the bar chords. 

“Move your other hand like this,” Eddie said, mimicking the strumming motion. Steve tries and fails. Eddie grabs his hand and tries to help, but he still doesn't get it. His brows are furrowed cutely as he focuses hard on the strings like they'll make it all work out for him.

“Let me show you,” Eddie says, pulling Steve so his back is pressed against Eddie's chest. He wraps his arms around him, pretending that being this close doesn't make him want to kiss the top of his shoulder and bear hug him until they fall asleep. He laces his fingers through Steve's, helping him feel exactly where to go.

“Your fingers go here, and your other hand moves like this,” he says over Steve's shoulder.

It's impractical and isn't teaching Steve anything. He just likes the feeling of Steve against him, the way he accepts Eddie's hands against his without any weird looks. Eddie hums the lyrics, a bit unable to stop himself because the song is a classic, until Steve lifts their hands away from the guitar and curls his fingers around Eddie's, looking at them closely. Steve pulls Eddie's hands close to his face and twists one of his rings, rubbing his thumb against the pad of Eddie's left pointer finger. He wishes he could see his expression.

“Is this what girls mean when they talk about guys that play guitar?” Steve finally asks.

Eddie laughs, sharp and loud, which makes Steve shoulder him away. 

“Don't shout in my ear,” Steve complains. 

Eddie scoots back on the couch, still laughing. Steve rolls his eyes and plucks at the guitar with his thumb.

“How often are girls telling you about guys that play guitar?”

“I mean, they talk,” Steve shrugs. 

“Oh yeah? What do they say?” Eddie teases, “that you're not doing a good enough job?”

Steve looks up at him sharp. No smile.

“They tell me how it feels,” he says.

Eddie pauses, brains scrambled, because Now he's imagining Steve describing how it feels and it goes straight to his dick. Which is awkward because they're sharing the same couch and Eddie isn't exactly sitting with his legs crossed.

Still, he wants to know more.

“How- uh- what do they say? About how it feels?” he stammers, shifting a little further from Steve. He's feeling a little hot under the collar, and he knows he's really pushing the limits, but he can't help it. Not when Steve's right there, egging him on. Because that's what this is, right? He's not alone in this. Steve has to know what he's doing.

As if to answer Eddie's silent question, Steve scoots closer, squeezing the guitar between them as he leans in, face only a few inches from Eddie's. His knee is digging into Eddie's crotch. If he moves his hips, he's sure Steve would learn just how little Eddie’s playing around. 

That makes him feel even hotter. 

He can feel a puff of hair against his face as Steve laughs lightly, face splitting into a perfect, teasing smile. Steve grabs Eddie's hands and places them around the guitar, fingers brushing against his forehead a moment longer than necessary.

“I don't kiss and tell, Munson,” he says, and then he gets off the couch, leaving Eddie hard as a rock.

~.~.~

Sometimes, Steve spends the night. He falls asleep after an hour of whispering nonsense back and forth in the dark, with his back pressed against Eddie's chest, arms curled close to his body. Then Eddie wakes up to see that Steve is already gone, like the shared heat on the mattress is just a figment of his imagination.

He tries not to let himself think it means anything. He always stays awake a moment longer, always lingering on the man in bed next to him, wondering when he'll finally be sure enough to put himself out of his misery by leaning over for a kiss. 

Then, at least he'll know what this is. 

This time, Eddie wakes up and it's still dark out. Someone is touching him. He turns and sees a figure in his bed, the blankets pooled around their waist.

“Eddie?” Steve asks sleepily.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

Now that his eyes are adjusting to the dark, he can see the outline of the moon leaning through the window blinds, turning Steve's hair stark white where the light hits it.

“You were having a nightmare,” Steve says, placing a hand on Eddie's chest. Eddie can feel his heart, frantic and stressed, under Steve's hand. “Are you ok?”

“I'm fine. I don't even remember it,” Eddie says.

Steve slumps down next to him and leans in. Something brushes against Eddie's cheek, something soft and sweet, so quick that Eddie nearly thinks he's dreamt it up- 

A kiss.

Steve just kissed him.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, rolling over like it was nothing. Like he didn't just steal Eddie's heart through his lips. Eddie roughly grabs Steve and hugs him from behind, pulling him as close as possible. He wants to merge into one with this man. He wants signs of Steve across every inch of his skin. Steve makes a sleepy noise of protest, but lets it all happen, and Eddie falls asleep happy with no room for nightmares anymore.

~.~.~

“Who the fuck is that?” Eddie asks, nose scrunched up with disgust. He's just entered Steve's house for some pool party the kids bullied him into hosting, and was instantly met with the most irritating sight he's ever laid eyes upon- a handsome stranger hanging off Steve's shoulder.

“Oh, it's Steve's friend from Italy. Gabriel,” Robin says with a roll of her eyes. “I didn't even know he had friends.”

“Hey, he has us! And the kids!” Eddie says, trying to pretend he isn't watching Steve like a hawk.

“You know what I mean,” Robins says.

Gabriel. 

Fucking Gabriel.

Eddie watches as Steve lingers around this other man. This man and his curly brown hair, lightly tanned skin, muscular body, and soft blue eyes. This man and his touchy hands that linger along Steve's body like they're glued together, playfully grabbing at Steve's sunglasses.

“How long has he known him?” Eddie asks defensively. He crosses his arms across his cropped Dio shirt, suddenly feeling a little inadequate in the presence of fucking Michelangelo over there. 

“Since they were kids,” Robin shrugs.

Eddie's heart feels tight. He's sure he's going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West, or something equally dramatic. Because Steve is up and close in this random man's space, in a swimsuit nonetheless, showing off his hairy tits and chatting it up like it was totally normal to be practically in someone's lap.

Which, it was.

Between them.

Some girl Eddie doesn't recognize is laughing it up with Nancy and Jonathan off to the side. She's equally gorgeous and Eddie knows right away that she must have come from Italy too. 

Since when did Steve go to Italy? Was this some rich boy shit he'd never learned about? 

“Eddie's here!” Dustin yells from the pool. Eddie's saved from having to fake happiness around the kids by Mike tackling Dustin from behind. He's probably drowning or something, but Eddie's not too concerned because somewhere, music is getting louder and fucking Gabriel is pulling Steve up to dance. Steve and Gabriel move like it's second nature, laughing and a little too close, a little too much hip movement for it to be guys being guys.

Eddie didn't know Steve could dance. He didn't even know Steve liked disco. 

Why does it suddenly feel like he doesn't know Steve at all?

“Whoo! Those two are always like that,” the pretty girl says with a lazy smile. Nancy and Jonathan don't seem too shocked to see Steve acting like this, which is another sign that Eddie is a gullible fool.

“Are you alright?” Robin asks. She sounds worried. Eddie's not looking at her. He's watching Steve plant a kiss on Gabriel's cheek after their stupid little dance stops.

Eddie isn't alright. 

He feels like an idiot. 

He thought they had something special, but it turns out that Steve is just…like that.

He turns and walks into the kitchen, so he can work through his shame in peace. That way, he can behave like a normal human long enough to make an excuse and leave in favor of crying into his ratty trailer pillow that probably still smells like Steve and his stupid hairspray.

“Whoa, what's wrong?” someone asks.

It's Steve, of course. He's standing at the kitchen door, looking at Eddie with genuine concern. His sunglasses are pushed into his hair, artfully keeping it out of his face. He looks behind himself and closes the door before walking up to Eddie, getting in his space.

Eddie steps back.

“I didn't see you get here. You look sick, are you ok?” he asks.

Eddie wants to say that he's fine, but looking into Steve's eyes makes everything worse. Much to his horror, he feels a lump forming in his throat and a familiar burn forming in his eyes. He tries to blink it away, but that just makes a premature tear roll down his cheek. 

Fuck.

Steve steps even closer and lifts his hands to Eddie's face, gently holding him, brushing the tear away with his thumb. And now that it's started, he can't make it stop. Eddie starts to cry even harder.

“Is it Wayne? Did something happen at the trailer?” Steve's asking, appearing to genuinely care.

“No,” Eddie says.

“Are you hurt?”

“No!”

“Did someone-”

“No, no, no! Steve, just stop!” Eddie says, elbowing his way free from Steve's grasp. He feels a little bad about it, when he sees how hurt Steve looks. But he feels too shitty to care much about anything at the moment.

“You're crying, Eddie. Can't I help?”

“You've done enough, honestly,” Eddie says.

“What do you mean?” Steve asks.

“Dude, are you really that dense?” 

Steve kind of shutters at that, and then Eddie really feels bad. He's made an ass of himself and now he's being an ass too. 

“Just- stop, ok? Go back to your Italian boyfriend,” Eddie says.

“Huh? Gabe?” Steve asks. 

Oh, so they have nicknames now?

“Whatever his name is,” Eddie grumbles, even though he knows it's going to be impossible for him to forget that name for the rest of his life. 

Steve scoffs for a second and then shakes his head. “Are you mad that I have other friends?”

Eddie can't believe it. It's the worst case scenario. Steve didn't know. Somehow, Steve was completely oblivious to Eddie's feelings. There was no game between them. Eddie had made it all up in his head. Steve's just an oblivious flirt. He was matching Eddie's weird, lovesick energy.

God, how embarrassing.

“No, Steve,” Eddie says, already done with the conversation and ready for the consequences, “I'm mad that you're flirting with this dude after weeks of flirting with me!”

Steve looks shocked. Like he would've expected maybe a week after the upside down, back before this all began and he didn't know Steve that well. Turns out, he never knew Steve. 

He just thought he did.

“I- I wasn't flirting with you,” Steve says with a nervous little laugh.

“You slept in my bed and kissed me on the cheek. You rubbed your knee against my dick during our guitar lesson.”

Steve's just staring at him like all of this was in Eddie's head, which makes him feel even more defensive.

“You said you knew how it felt to get fingered!” he hisses.

Steve's cheeks go bright red. 

“Oh my God, I've been flirting with you,” he says. He lifts a hand to his forehead, like the information is too much for his head to handle.

“You also- well- I mean…yes?” Eddie says, not really sure what's happening anymore. He's so confused that his tears have stopped. Steve takes a step closer. 

“You've been flirting with me,” he says, pointing at Eddie.

Eddie nods. 

“And I've been flirting with you,” he says, pointing at himself.

Eddie nods again.

“I was flirting with Gabriel! Do you think he's into me?” he asks, pointing at the kitchen door.

Eddie's frown is severe. 

“Sorry, no. Forget I said that. Eddie, I think I have a crush on you,” Steve says with wonder in his voice.

It's Eddie's turn to blush now. He's witnessing Steve realize he's into men. Specifically, that he's into Eddie. Steve paces around the kitchen, combing a hand through his hair in that way he always does when he's thinking hard about something. Eddie recognizes it because he does know Steve, after all. Maybe a little better than Steve knows himself. Steve's cheeks are still bright red and he's breathing kind of weird. It's very strange, to watch someone come out to themselves.

And then Steve starts to cry.

Eddie rushes forward just as Steve leans back against the countertop and curls into himself.

“Hey, no, no, no, it's ok. You're still you,” he says, pulling Steve into a hug. 

What the fuck is happening? 

“I made you cry,” Steve says.

“It's ok,” Eddie says, rubbing his back, “you'll get used to it.”

“I don't want to get used to making you cry!” Steve whisper-shouts. 

“No, I mean that you'll get used to being into men,” Eddie says.

Steve pushes Eddie back a hair and looks him in the eyes.

“Why would I need to get used to it? It's obviously true. I'm upset because I've been such a dick to you,” he says softly.

Eddie just stares at him. He wonders if Steve is ok. Maybe this is what a breakdown looks like? Funny, how quick their mental states flipped during this conversation.

“Steve, it's ok to freak out a little. When I first realized I was into men, I cried until I threw up,” Eddie says.

Steve leans in and kisses him on the cheek, right at the corner of his mouth. It's so light and quick that for a moment, Eddie's not even sure that it happened. It makes his heart flip twice over.

“I'm not freaking out. I'm just trying to figure out how to make it up to you.”

Eddie lifts an eyebrow. Steve's fully serious. He's dried his face and is wrapping his arms around Eddie's back, brushing his hands against the belt loops in his jeans.

“Wow, you're serious. You genuinely-”

Eddie's cut off as Steve pulls him into a real kiss. The kind of kiss he'd seen in movies, sweet but also kind of hot. Eddie wants more. He crowds Steve against the countertop and runs his hands down over that ass he couldn't stop thinking about since seeing it in person, grabs his thighs just under his swim trunks and lifts, pushing their bodies as close as possible.

Steve has one hand tangled in Eddie's hair, steering his head to the side, and another gripping around his back pocket, pulling Eddie's hips right into his.

Eddie can't believe it. Steve's kissing him. He's rolling his hips into him. 

Steve chose him over fucking Gabe!

Steve pulls their bodies even closer than Eddie thought possible, and Eddie can feel every detail of his dick hardening against him through his jeans. It leaves him breathless, desperate to drop his hands from Steve's warm torso and under that swimsuit so he can feel it in more detail. Steve's not so shy. He's driving Eddie crazy with his hand sliding around his zipper, lifting up to the hem and back down again. 

“Eddie,” Steve gasps into his mouth as he starts fumbling with the button.

Eddie’s experiencing something religious with Steve's tongue when a shout breaks them apart. 

Eddie leaps halfway across the room before bothering to look around to check that nobody is there. He turns back to Steve, who's watching him carefully.

“I think it's just the kids. We should probably go back outside,” he says.

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees reluctantly. Based on the look Steve's sending his way, he feels the same. He jumps down from the counter and walks over to the door, then pauses. 

He turns to Eddie and says, “You should sleep over tonight.”

“Ok,” Eddie says, feeling his cheeks go warm again as he tries not to assume anything after an afternoon of assuming things, “I like your guest room, it's got a really comfortable mattress-”

“In my bed,” Steve clarifies.

“Ok!” Eddie squeaks. “I could run home and grab something to sleep in-”

“Naked,” Steve says bluntly. Then he seems to realize something, because he looks away from Eddie like he's embarrassed. “I mean, unless you don't want that. No pressure. I have something you can borrow-”

“I want that,” Eddie interrupts.

Steve smiles. He flicks his sunglasses back over his eyes and leans in to kiss Eddie one last time, short, and promising more for later. As he opens the door, Eddie spots Gabe lounging around with that pretty girl and gets an idea. He shoves past Steve and smacks his ass on the way by, smiling at Gabe, just to cement his victory.

“Damn Harrington, feels as good as it looks,” he says. Gabe looks completely confused. Steve rolls his eyes.

“Don't get addicted,” Steve says.

[uwu-bxtch]

||BOTH AIN’T SHIT|| t.f.

summary :: “Fuck it, guess we both ain’t shit.” OR you decide to unblock toji (again) after getting bored of your boyfriend (again).

content :: toji fushiguro x reader, smut, 18+, cheating, female anatomy, nicknames (pretty girl, doll, pretty, baby), profanity (duh), reader is lowkey a runner, inspired by b.a.s. by megan thee stallion (my queen)

a/n :: guys this is my first ever smut SO BE NICE (pls im sensitive) !! also take this as a peace offering for taking so long to post chapter one of bad habits 😭 i’m so sorry pookies

you stared at the text on your phone with a bored expression.

ten minutes ago

that fucker left you on delivered for ten minutes. you know he’s most likely busy, but you can’t find it in you to care. you were never the one to wait, especially for a man. rolling your eyes, you leave the messaging app and go to your contacts. you go to the block folder and and go straight for one name.

toji

unblocking him, you immediately call his number.

ring…ring…ri-

“and to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your eyebrow twitches, you could practically feel his smirk.

“you already know what i want.”

“awe this one isn’t treating you right? when you gonna stop dealing with those boys you seem to attract.”

“whenever you stop dealing with those girls that like to flock around you,” you bite back, attitude already manifesting.

“fair, my place or yours?”

you huff before responding, “packing my bag right now.”

he lets out a grunt before you hang up. a grin spreads across your face as excitement rushes through your body. it’s been months since the two of you saw each other and you’ll never admit it, but you kind of miss him. to be fair, you do block him whenever you’re in a new relationship, but they never last that long.

————

the man never locks his door so you don’t bother knocking. you walk in and take your shoes off before making a beeline to his room. you heard his shower running so you put your bag down and make yourself comfortable on toji’s bed.

you look around the room from your spot, everything looks the same. except a bright pink and lacy thong near his closet door. you roll your eyes at the thought of someone else being under him, though you can’t be too upset since you’re doing the same thing.

“look at you sitting pretty and waiting for me.”

your thoughts were interrupted by the man in a towel. he looked so fucking hot fresh out the shower. hair slightly sticking to his face, water droplets gently caressing his muscles, you squeeze your thighs together as you stare. ignoring your arousal, you look away and nod your head towards the thong.

“your girlfriend’s or something?” you asked, wrinkling your nose. toji lets out a low chuckle, glancing at the thong before he slowly approaches you on the bed.

“not quite.”

“you don’t gotta lie, it’s not like i really give a fuck.” you say as you begin to take off your shorts.

toji stops you and replaces your hand with his so he can take them off himself. he traps you in place with his knees so you’re looking up at him.

“attitude already? someone missed me.”

toji smirks up at you, throwing your bottoms across the room and working on your panties. another wave of arousal hits you as you watch his facial expression.

“no i-“

“you don’t have to lie, i know you.” he smirks as you scoff at him.

your panties are off and toji groans at the sight of your pulsing pussy, already dripping with arousal. he uses his middle and ring finger to gather your slick and tease your hole. you whine impatiently as you try to grind onto his fingers but his other hand holds your hips down.

“shush, you know how this goes.” he scolds, causing you to whine more.

he prods your entrance with his middle finger for a moment before plunging both of them inside you.

“oh fuck-“

you moan as you lay your head back onto a pillow. your walls tighten around his fingers as you try to move your hips, but toji’s grip stays strong.

“she really hasn’t been fucked right if you’re going crazy over my fingers.”

toji continues to pump his fingers into you, using his thumb to firmly rub your clit. you let out quiet moans as your body slightly tenses up at every jolt of pleasure.

“c’mon pretty, relax a bit,” he says to you as he works your pussy open, curling his fingers up to search your sweet spot. one more rough push and he ended up hitting it, causing your body to jerk a bit.

“yes, right there!” you moan out, attempting to squeeze your legs together but toji forced them open.

“we’re having none of that, you got it?”

you weakly nod as he continues to abuse your cunt with his fingers, repeatedly jabbing your sweet spot and roughly rubbing your clit.

“ah, fuck i’m gonna-“

you cut yourself off with a high pitched whine as the knot in your stomach snaps. toji continues to fuck you through your high.

“that’s it, there you go.”

once you’ve calmed down, he took his fingers out of you and leaves you to clench around nothing. he leans in close to your face to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. his tongue immediately invades your mouth, and you start sucking on it without a second thought. the only sounds that could be heard in the room were your quiet moans and your lips smacking.

as you guys continue to kiss, no one wanting to detatch for air, you feel something poke your bare thigh. breaking from the kiss, you look down to see toji’s bulge poking through his towel. despite just having an orgasm, the sight of how painfully hard he was made your pussy throb. you look up at him with pleading eyes.

“you wanna help me out baby?” he asked, already removing the towel from his waist. 

you nod as you both adjust your positions. toji sits at the edge of the bed while you sit on your knees between his thighs. you look up at him with hooded eyes as he gives himself a couple of pumps. he gently slaps his cock on your lips and lets out a groan.

“fuck. suck it good baby.”

you grip his dick firmly, giving it a kitten lick before kissing it. it was thick and heavy in your hand, the tip an angry shade of red while dripping with precum.

you open your mouth and put as much as you could inside, using your hand to stroke the rest. you hollow out your cheeks as you bob your hand up and down, tongue swirling his tip. toji ran his finger through the roots of your hair before gripping a handful. he gave your hair a slight tug, causing you to moan around his dick.

“shit. ju-just like that.”

your hand slipped down to your pussy to play with your clit as you tried to take in more of him. the room was filled with your muffled moans and his pants and occasional praises. you were close to making yourself cum and, by the way toji’s cock twitched, you could tell he was close too.

“fuck. stop.”

you ignored him and kept going until he tightened his grip on your hair and pulled you off.

“i said off.”

he uses his other hand to squeeze your cheeks and makes you look up at him, leaning dangerously close to your face. 

“what i do?” you ask, slight desperation in your voice. 

“you think you can cut me off for months and expect me to not cum in your pussy?”

“i jus’ wan—“

“on the bed doll.”

you got up off your knees with some help and crawled back onto the bed. shortly after laying on your back, toji slots himself between your legs. he grabs one of your legs and dangle it over his shoulder. with the other hand, he grips his cock and rubs it up and down between your slit, covering it in your juices.

he rubs circles into the thigh on his shoulder as he stares into your eyes.

“you ready baby?”

“please.”

toji lined himself up before plunging into your tight hole. you let out a broken moan as you felt him fill you up. he didn’t give you a chance to adjust before he started mercilessly pounding into your pussy.

“fuck- squezin’ me so tight,” he grunted out, pushing your leg to your chest to fuck into you deeper. the stretch made you roll your eyes back

with every thrust, you let out a fucked out moan.

“fuckin’ me s’ good. needed your dick so bad.” you whine, eyes rolling back with every jolt of pleasure. 

“yeah? that little—ngh—boyfriend of yours wasn’t cutting it?”

he huffs as he is eyes travel from your fucked out face to your tits bouncing with every thrust. you blindly reach for his free hand and, without thinking, led it up to your neck. he smirks as he tightens his grip around your neck just enough to make you feel light headed.

“fuck— yesyesyes…”

as you feel yourself getting closer, the pleasure started to get a little overwhelming. you reach down to attempt to push him away but toji kept going, keeping you in place while leaning down to kiss along your jaw.

“haven’t been fucked properly in so long you running away now?”

he doesn’t expect you to answer, recognizing how fucked out you are. he was also close to reaching his high, but he’d be damned if he came first.

“no—no one will fuck you like i do, yeah?” he growls into your ear, moving his hips to fuck you in a different angle. his rhythm faltered a bit as your pussy gripped his dick tighter.

“yes, o—only you can fuck me like this!” you gasp out, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.

“i know you’re close doll, go ahead and cream on my dick.”

with the permission you didn’t know you needed, you finally let the tension in your body snap, squeezing your eyes shut and tightening your arms around his neck. a wave of pleasure flowed through your body as your pussy had a death grip on toji’s dick.

“oooh shit, yes!”

you cumming set his orgasm off as he gave you one more deep thrust before cumming inside of you, removing his hand from your neck and lifting you off the bed with the arm to hold you closer.

“that’s a good girl.” toji groans, holding you in place as you milk him dry. you both stay like that while you come down from your highs.

toji gently lowers you back on the bed and slowly pulls out of you, causing you to whimper at the empty feeling. you move your arms from his neck and grab his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. he reciprocates and the kiss is slow and gentle, but still a little desperate. you moan into the kiss as he sucks on your tongue.

after a few moments, when you two are fully relaxed, the kiss breaks. toji slowly gets off the bed and walks into the bathroom. it only takes a minute before he’s back with a wet washcloth. he begins to wipe the sweat off your body before cleaning your sensitive area. he’s not the most gentle, but it was still sweet.

————

the silence was comforting before toji’s phone started ringing.

“hello?…yeah sorry, i can’t chill today…family shit, you know how it is…”

he’s sitting next to you, one arm around your shoulder as he talks to who you’re assuming is his girl. you look over at him, biting back a laugh so as to not get him into trouble. then you hear your phone start to buzz. you grab it from the bedside table and look at the texts.

sorry it’s been a while, i got caught up in some work.

it’s okay, it wasn’t really important. we can hang later this week

after sending that text you look over to toji, who’s smirking at you.

“you ain’t shit,” you assume he was reading the messages after he hung up the phone.

“neither are you,” you say back, returning the smirk.

toji shrugged before leaning back into the headboard.

“fair…you want takeout?”

“always.”

both of y’all really ain’t shit.

MASTERLIST

[daydreaming-nerd]

Our Girl (Bat Boys! x Female! Reader) Rhysand's Part

First part

AN: Sorry I've been a little MIA, I've been going through a lot and struggling to find time to write. But I just busted this out and I love it.

Summary (Series): When Rhysand becomes High Lord the boys find themselves too busy and too well known to visit their local pleasure house. So they hire the reader to to satisfy their needs.

This fic: Rhys seeks his revenge from the last encounter he had with you and his brothers.  HEAVILY BASED OFF THIS FANART

Warnings: sub/dom dynamic, dirty talk, degradation, cock warming, cum eating, (i think that's it, as always lmk if I missed anything)

Word count: 3,100

The past week or so had been nothing but bliss. I spent every morning curled up on my chaise lounge reading a book and eating whatever home cooked breakfast that was brought to me. It was just as I had dreamed, silk pajamas and expensive champagne, sleeping in and spa treatments. 

Rhys and his “brothers” had been extremely busy the past couple of days, I hadn’t yet seen them since the first night we spent together. I hadn’t heard from them either, but as long as the gold in my account kept being accepted at every manner of boutique and fancy restaurants I didn’t much care when my services were needed.

I made my way through the townhouse and to my room, bags in hand and hair freshly done. I had spent the day at the hair salon and decided it would be a crime to return straight home with a fresh blowout, so I treated myself to lunch and of course some shopping as well. 

When I returned to my room I found a black box waiting for me on my too large bed. Setting the bags aside I made a beeline to the mysterious box tossing the lid open with little care. My eyes went wide at what I saw inside. A babydoll made of deep purple lace and a silky mesh lay in the box. It was beautiful, but that wasn’t the lingerie that made me lose my breath, it was the diamond necklace that lay on top of it.  

I picked up both gifts prompting a note to tumble out of the folds, 

Your presence is requested by your High Lord…

There was no doubt in my mind that Rhysand was the one to send such a lavish gift. While I’m sure Cassian and Azriel were paid handsomely I could buy a house or two with this necklace. 

I wasted no time changing into the attire Rhys had bought for me. I wondered if this would be a recurring thing for him. He had told Cassian and Azriel they could dress me however they pleased, but none had yet to take advantage of it. 

I tiptoe down the hall to where I can practically feel his power seeping through the door. He had been holed up in his office all week. There were times I thought to check on him, offer him some release or even some company, but I didn’t want to pester him and lose my paycheck. 

My hand lingers on the doorknob for a moment before closing around it and pushing the door open. I find Rhysand in the exact same place he was when I first came here, hunched over stacks of papers and drinking a whiskey on the rocks. 

“There you are,” he says low, rising from his plush chair, his presence making me feel small. “Do you know what I was reading over?” he asks, waving a piece of paper in the air. 

“No my lord,” I reply and I don’t miss the glimmer in his eye as I utter the familiar name he claimed to love so much. 

“This, little one,” he smirks, further closing the distance between us. “Is your bank statement.” he smiles tossing the paper on a nearby chair. 

My blood runs cold. Had I spent too much? Did I overdraft my account somehow? I was sure I hadn’t spent that much money in the past week. 

“200 gold marks at Rita’s for dinner last night,” he states, coming behind me pulling my hair to the side so he has access to my neck. 

“300 gold marks at a boutique, 100 marks buying lacy underthings and another 100 gold marks buying shoes.” he smirks, placing kisses on my neck as he lists every expense. 

“I-I’m sorry did I overdraft my account? I can return the shoes, or the ‘lacy underthings’ as you so call them?” I wince praying I’m not about to get fired. 

“If you take back those lacy underthings you will be fired,” he chuckles, resting his hands on my hips. 

I mentally curse myself for forgetting his ability to pry into my mind, but I stop kicking myself the moment he kisses that sensitive spot underneath my ear. 

“On the contrary, little one. You aren’t spending enough of my money.” he smiles, brushing a hand over the lace covering my breasts and up to my necklace. “I thought you could use some help.” 

“They’re beautiful my lord,” I breathe, feeling him lick a stripe up the column of my neck. 

“The next time I fuck you I want you dripping in diamonds and jewels that I bought you, is that clear?” he asks smugly and I swear if he wasn’t bracing his hands on my hips my legs would’ve buckled. 

“Yes my lord,” I breathe leaning into his touch as I feel him smirk against the shell of my ear 

“Good girl,” he praises me and I feel my stomach flutter once more. “Now I have unfinished business with you.” he growls and my eyes snap open as his hand traces around my necklace. 

“You see last time I was denied you, I had to watch my brothers fuck and fill what’s mine and I didn’t like it very much.” he says dangerously low as his fingers dance over the diamonds around my neck. “Who put this pretty little collar around your neck?” 

“You did my lord,” I breathe as he turns to face me. 

“That’s right I did,” he smiles tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “And whose money do you spend all around town on expensive wine and shoes?” 

“Yours,” I say, my love drunk eyes boring into his. 

“Good girl,” Rhys smirks, dragging a thumb over my lips. “Now I have need of you but, I’m not done with work.” he says, dropping his hand from my face, making me miss the contact already. 

He strolls around the desk and sits down on his ornate chair again. Part of me wondered what his throne looked like if this was just the chair to his office. I hear his belt unbuckling as he frees himself from his slacks, standing tall, proud and practically throbbing for attention. 

“Come here little one,” he croons as he tugs his cock a couple times in his hand, getting it hard and ready for me. 

I approach him smoothly, I think he wants me under his desk with my mouth on his cock but the second I’m within arms reach of him I feel his hands on my hips. The next thing I know he’s slipping me on his cock like I’m nothing more than a cock sleeve for him. 

“There we go, nice and snug in there,” he smirks, nibbling my earlobe. 

I can hardly think or even breathe from the sheer size of him. I was almost embarrassed that he didn’t even have to touch me to warm me up for him. His words alone had me dripping wet for him making it easy for him to slide right in. 

“Now,” he chuckles, feeling the tension in my body. “I’m going to finish some paperwork and you're going to sit right here and keep my cock nice and warm alright little one?”

“Yes my lord,” I mewled, already sweating, needing him to move. 

“Good girl,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “No talking, no moving, and no touching yourself or you don’t get to cum.” 

I nod shallowly as he begins to resume his paperwork. 

It was probably the biggest exercise of self control I had ever practiced.  I knew how good it felt to ride Rhys, knew how good it felt when he lost control and pistoned inside of me until I fell apart under him. To sit here and be so close to that kind of pleasure? It was torture. 

The ticking of the clock on the wall only furthered my madness. I averted my eyes to where Rhys was scribbling on scroll, the scratching of a fountain pen equally as infuriating. The way his hand gripped the fountain pen, the veins standing out. How could his hands possibly be arousing? Was there a part of this male that wasn’t arousing to me? 

I pictured what those hands might do should they find their way on my skin. Where they might touch first, the ideas had my pussy clenching as I take in a sharp breath.

Rhys’ hand on my waist flew to my thigh slapping it hard, “Bad girl, I felt that,” he growled and I had to bite my lip not to whimper. 

The scratching of his pen on paper echoed throughout the room as I did everything in my power not to move, not to breathe or think about anything but being completely still. 

“150 gold marks at the perfumery huh?” Rhys croons holding the receipt for the perfume I bought two days ago. 

“Yes my lord,” I say, eyeing the receipt that had yet to bear his signature. 

“Let’s see what I purchased then,” he utters slowly, his nose nuzzles my neck inhaling the scent of the new perfume. “Mmm, very nice little one.” His voice is low and husky and I can’t help but clench around him once more. 

He growls, grabbing the back of my neck and hauling me up before slamming my front on top of his desk. On instinct I try to move but I’m held down by his hand on the back of my neck. His cock slips out of me, leaving me cold and empty, I’m half tempted to beg him to fill me again.

“What did I say about moving?” he snarls in my ear, making me whimper.

“I’m sorry,” I mewl, making him laugh. 

“You aren’t, but you will be,” he chuckles. 

His hand grips the hem of the light chiffon of the babydoll and tosses it over the small of my back so he can see all of me. I feel his hand smooth over my bum before spanking me hard. The sting makes me whimper until his hand comes back to soothe over the area. 

Without warning he buries himself inside of me, his balls smacking my clit. The guttural moan he lets out is nothing short of pornographic. I can feel the bulge in my belly that he leaves, his tip brushing my cervix like he did last time. 

He pulls out and moves in slow languid motions, making me feel every harsh inch of him. I’d like to think he’s warming me up but I know he’s warning himself up, this is all about him. 

“Gods your pussy is worth every single piece of gold I pay you? Do you know that?” he growls picking up the pace a bit. 

I whimper in response, feeling him move his hand from my neck to my hip to keep me from lurching forward so much. Out of the corner of my eye I see him shift the receipt from the perfume on the desk and grab a pen. Is he really signing my bills as he fucks me over his desk? The scratching of his signature on the page lets me know he is. 

“Every fucking penny,” he grunts before tossing the heavy pen on the desk. 

The thud of the pen is followed by another grunt before his hand goes to my upper back pressing me back into the desk again. His fingers on my hips and between my shoulderblades keep me from moving even an inch as he pistons his hips into me, a male gone feral. 

“Oh fuck Rhys!” I moan feeling my eyes roll to the back of my head. 

My fingers grab the edge of the desk trying to keep myself from moving too much, needing something to dig my nails into. The sound of skin slapping fills the room as Rhys’ breathing picks up with the rhythm of his thrusts. 

I clench around him and I receive a harsh slap to my behind once again. The sting startles me but fades into pleasure.

“Don’t you dare cum little one,” Rhys growls, increasing his pace. “You were a bad girl, bad girls don't get to cum.”

I let out a whimper at his words. I swear to the gods if this man leaves me trembling on the desk from not finishing with his cum leaking out of me I will lose my mind. I’ll run and find Cassain and beg him to finish the job, which I know he will. Azriel is another story. I think he might end up tying me up and getting off on me begging, hell I might get off on it too.

“Rhys please,” I cry as he presses my cheek further into the cool, smooth wood of the desk. Pens and picture frames rattling off from every thrust.

His hand comes down on my ass again as he pistons into me, searching for his own release. Long fingers dig into the skin of my hips leaving marks in their wake. 

“Are you going to beg little one?” Rhys laughs, thrusting harder making me too dumb to speak. 

My eyes roll to the back of my head as he finds that spot that drives me wild. I’m sure he’s not trying to, clearly just trying to get himself off. Yet somehow he’s fucked me dumb already and I’m a babbling mess bent over his desk.  

“Tell you what if you beg nice and pretty I’ll let you cum?” Rhys chuckles. “Can you do that for me, little one?” 

As if snapped out of the trance I’m in I feel my thoughts come back to my head. I’ll beg for him, I’d do anything for this male. I knew the second I met him I’d be utterly devoted to him if he just fucked me right, and by the cauldron he does.

“Please, please, please, please my lord,” I cry, feeling like a cock drunk fool. “Please let me cum!” 

Rhys chuckles, grabbing the back of my hair and angling my head so my cheek isn’t pressed into the wood anymore. I almost wished there was a mirror in front of us so I could see  the way he’s taking me.

“If you  make a mess, you’ll have to clean it up. Can’t have other High Lord’s coming in here and seeing my whores cum all over my desk,” he smirks fucking me harder. 

A sick part of me wanted just that to happen. Hell let the other High Lord’s watch him fuck me. 

“I’ll be good, I’ll clean up,” I rasp out feeling tears prick my eyes. “P-Please let me cum.” I breathe. 

It suddenly occurs to me that this is truly revenge from our last encounter when I wasn’t allowed to let him cum. He wanted me to beg just as hard as he did that night. 

His hand in my hair tightens, lifting my front off the desk. My back is forced to arch and somehow he’s able to fuck me even deeper in this postion. My eyes fly open and I’m met with a pair of raging violet ones. 

“Couldn't reach that pretty clit with your face pressed against the desk,” he smirks and before I can say anything his finger finds that sensitive pearl between my legs rubbing little circles in it. 

My mouth falls open as the coil in my stomach threatens to unravel. His fingers continue their tantalizing ministrations on my clit. The impressive length of his cock digs deep in my belly. I close my eyes for a moment, feeling overstimulated. The hand he has fisted in my hair shakes as he forces me to arch my back more. 

“Eyes on me little one,” he growls and when my eyes flutter open I see his violet ones staring back at me, eating up every reaction I give him. 

My mouth falls open as I slip back into that cock drunk feeling and his eyes drink me up, seemling getting off on my fucked out face. 

“Yeah you like that?” he smirks, not taking his eyes off me. “You like being my little cock slut?” 

The words falling from his lips are enough to have me coming undone for him in a string of moans and cries. Tears fall from my cheeks, and I swear I feel him lick one up before he slams into me one last time, sputtering inside me so deeply I can feel the warmth coating my insides. 

The grunts that fall from his mouth are enough to make me want more, but as he releases my hair and gravity pulls my body to the desk again I realize how spent I truly am. 

I hear the chair squeak behind me, signaling that he’s sitting down, no doubt watching his cum spill out of me as I haven’t gotten the energy to move. 

“Oh little one you’re such a messy girl,” he teases, running a finger up my folds collecting the mixture of our releases that are there. 

I mewl as I feel him graze my overstimulated clit. I pull my head up to examine his desk, pen cups and picture frames are knocked over, papers are lying on the floor. My eyes widen as I see faint claw marks from my nails in the wood of the desk. 

“What did I say about messes?” he tuts behind me.

 I let my body slink to the floor, hitting my knees at the edge of his desk. He runs a large hand through my hair from where he sits behind me and my eyes come face to face to the mess we made. 

Rising on my knees I let my tongue lap up the salty sweetness of him and that's right in front of me. His hand pushes my head down a bit forcing me to take every last drop. Only when the wood is spotless do I feel him thread his fingers through my hair and pull me back so he’s looking at me again. 

“Such a good girl for me,” he smiles, leaning down to give me an upside down kiss. “Let’s get you cleaned up little one, you’ll sleep with me tonight.” 

I’ll give the High Lord one thing, he fucked like a god, but what he really did well was aftercare. Always cleaning me up and getting me fluids. Holding my shaking body until I fell asleep. Something told me he longed for this type of intimacy as well. Cassian was the same that first night as well. Fetching me snacks and stroking my hair. The mysterious third brother, Azriel, had yet to show his cards. But something told me I’d be seeing him sooner than later.

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