#but i love the hanging glass bottle

[robo-dino-puppy]

little details in the carja camp

[faaun]

procrastination is starting to have its consequences finally

[loonylupinblack3]

Shy

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, suggestive content

Summary: you have a crush on a certain co-worker but are too shy to tell him. so someone does it for you.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT WHEN I TRIED TO REPLY TO IT IT DIDNT LET ME AND DELETED IT INSTEAD (also jean is a meddling little shit in this and u just gotta accept that)

You watched him from across the hall greedily, eyes drinking in his panting form, the sweat coating his chest and back, the strained muscles underneath his wife beater tank top. Logan was a sight for sore eyes on a normal day, but when he was working out? He had you practically rabid for him.

You were sitting on one of the benches, a forgotten book in your hand you hadn’t glanced at in ages, preferring to treat yourself to the image of Logan Howlett hot and sweaty while working out. There were a few other X-men exercising alongside him, and others on the bench with you hanging out so you weren’t too out of place, but everyone could see the way you looked at Logan.

Everyone but Logan himself.

You’d joined the team a few months ago- 5 to be exact- after whispers had gotten to you of a safe space for mutants. Having hidden your true genetic code from everyone else in your life, you jumped at the chance of not having to hide anymore. With your unique skill set too- the ability to formulate and present illusions- you were an exceptional addition to both the X-men and the teaching staff.

You thrived at the X mansion. The kids loved you, you got along well with your fellow teammates, and you had suggested and helped act on several improvements to both the school and the team. You were a good addition, and the other mutants were grateful to have you there.

You’d just had one problem when acclimating to the school. Your teeny, tiny, incredibly small crush on your fellow professor, Logan Howlett. At first you really had thought it would be no big deal. Just a co-worker you had noticed was slightly attractive. That’s all. Other mutants had told you he was hard to talk to, and had a gruff, moody personality, so you’d thought the attraction would soon fade.

Unfortunately it had only grown. The first time you’d realised, shit, this might actually be a problem, was when you’d gone to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Logan leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in hand.

You’d been so flustered, eyes continuously betraying you and straying to his chest that you’d blurted out the first thing that came to your head, “how’d you get beer in here?”

Logan had chuckled, observing you as he brought the beer bottle to his mouth for a sip. “Why? Want some Sweetheart?”

You’d felt heat rise to your face at the nickname, shaking your head. “No, I was just curious.”

Logan stared at you a second longer, eyes trailing your figure appreciatively before shrugging. “Your loss. And unfortunately I can't tell you how I got it. Gotta keep it a secret lest Xavier finds out.”

You were too flustered to argue so you’d just nodded, mumbled a quick goodbye, and quickly walked back to your bedroom. You hadn’t even gotten your glass of water. 

There had been other similar instances over the past few months. Logan just had a way to get under your skin, to cause your heart to go into cardiac arrest every time he looked at you, which made it hard to conceal your ever growing crush on him from literally everyone. Even your students knew about it, or at least had their suspicions, and you prayed they were too intimidated by Logan to ask him any questions about it. The last thing you needed was to get humiliated and have to pack up all your things and leave the home you had just created for yourself because you could no longer look any of your co-workers or students in the eyes again.

Especially Logan.

Things had escalated until you could barely look Logan in the eye anymore, and actively avoided him at all costs. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself in front of him, and though it was unpleasant you’d decided the best course of action was just to steer clear of him altogether.

Still, you allowed yourself some enjoyment, like watching Logan workout from afar while in a room full of people. The onlookers weren’t the best, but it was better than being alone with him when who knows what would happen.

“Like what you see?”

Storm’s voice dragged you out of your ogling, and you turned to her with a sheepish expression. “Maybe.”

She gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows. You ignored it, because you’d heard her suggestions many times before and found they didn’t align with your own interests.

“Go and tell him how you feel.”

And embarrass yourself when he inevitably rejects you? No thanks. You were more comfortable with keeping your feelings suppressed, continuously shoving them down, building a brick wall between them and you, to permanently keep them out. Yet for every single brick you added somewhere below you could feel three more being punched out, slowly destroying your barricades bit by bit. 

Your eyes strayed back to Logan, like they always did, yet surprise striked you when you couldn’t find him. Your eyes scanned the room like a man on a mission, only to realise too late Logan was heading towards you, a towel in his sweaty grip.

He greeted Storm with a nod before his gaze zeroed in on you, and you mentally added another brick to your shield, determined to keep him out this time. 

“Y/n,” he greeted, eyes never straying from your face.

You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. “Logan,” and, because you were incredibly weak willed- “did you have a good workout?”

You swear as you looked back up at him you saw the remnants of a smile on his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye so you couldn’t be completely sure. You don’t think Logan had ever smiled at you, and you felt the bricks within you start to wobble.

“It was alright,” he said curtly, ever the man of few words. He lingered though, as if debating to say something, when it came out anyway. “I’d like it if you joined us next time.”

You felt your heartbeat increase. You felt the jump and the rapid incline as you processed what he said, your mind swimming.

“Me? But I just do illusions… I don’t have a fight worthy mutation.”

“Which is exactly why you should workout. Build your strength so you don’t need to rely on others and can trust your own body to do the job, regardless of mutations.”

It was the most you think Logan had ever spoken to you all at once, and you were suddenly feeling very dizzy. Logan wanted you to workout with him, to spend time with him. Could you imagine? Standing alongside him while he panted. Sparring and ending up underneath him, his entire body weight crushing you between him. It was almost too much to think about.

You cleared your throat, trying to clear your mind of unhelpful distractions, and found your eyes glued to Logan as he brought the towel to wipe the sweat from his throat, his muscles straining right in front you as he reached behind the back of his neck, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body.

You were staring, you knew that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to look away. It was a godly sight, Logan in front of you, sweaty and staring right at you. How were you supposed to look away?

“Uhm,” you mumbled when Storm stepped on your foot. If she’d noticed your ogling Logan certainly must have, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Logan looked at you again, really looked at you, before nodding, slinging the towel over a shoulder. “I hope to see you there.”

And with that he walked away, and you felt the bricks tumbling, clattering away inside you, and you could do nothing to stop it until you felt bare and vulnerable, watching the man walk away with the realisation this might be more than just a silly crush.

You couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let yourself go too far, even though you could already feel yourself falling. You needed stronger defences, more barricades and walls. And if that meant more space between you and Logan, more avoiding and distance, well, you’d do it. You couldn’ let yourself go past the point of no return with him. You couldn’t.

Your avoidance of Logan had continued ten-fold. Whenever he entered a room you would exit. You would no longer spend time watching him workout or teach or do anything, really. You stayed as isolated from him as possible, and when you couldn’t you stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead of you rather than on him.

Others had noticed. You heard the rumours, whispers of a fight, a break up that occurred between the two of you. It was laughable, the idea that you and Logan had ever been together in the first place.

It was working though, or so you thought. You could feel your shields and barricades strengthening each day, and you continued to build them higher and higher, in the hopes you would eventually not need to avoid Logan, for he would no longer have any effect on you.

Until then you were determined to avoid Logan and spend as little time with him as possible. Unfortunately Logan did not share that sentiment.

You’d just finished up a class, instructing your students to have their homework prepared for next lesson and watched them all file out the door when Logan entered. It was so unexpected you hadn’t a chance to leave before he was upon you, his figure towering over your frame. His arms were crossed and he watched you with a frown on his face, yet you weren’t afraid of it anymore. Sure, you had been originally, but soon you’d discovered behind the frown was usually no ill intent, so you weren’t nervous.

Well you were, extremely so, but not about that.

“Oh, Logan,” you managed, swallowing thickly. “What are you doing here?”

Logan crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”

You winced. “We do?”

He let out an aggravated huff. “LIsten, I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed at me but it can’t be this bad-”

You interrupted him, confused. “Wait, what?”

He sent you a look. “You. Being mad at me. I don’t know why.”

“I’m not mad at you.”

Logan paused, looking at you with a scrutinising gaze. “Yes you are.”

You scoffed at him wrongly telling you how you felt. “No, I’m not.”

“So why are you ignoring me? And don’t say you haven't-” Logan said, noticing you’d opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I know you are. You have been avoiding me for weeks, and if you’re not angry at me I can see no other fathomable reason for why you’re acting like I have the plague.”

I frowned. “You noticed that?”

Logan scoffed. “Of course I noticed it. You don’t even come to training anymore, not even to watch like you used to. Why?”

You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You obviously couldn’t tell him the real reason, otherwise all the hard work you’d done would be for nothing because you’d end up humiliated and rejected anyway, but you knew Logan could tell when someone was lying from their pulse spiking, and yours certainly would if you lied about this.

You grappled for something to say, anything, to shake him off your trail. “I have to prepare for another class-”

“You’re not preparing for shit until you tell me what’s wrong,” Logan practically growled. “I can stay here all day Bub.”

Well shit. You didn’t really have another choice. You were going to have to tell him about your feelings for him. Literally anything else would have been better. Anything else.

At that exact moment Jean walked into your classroom and relief bloomed in your chest. You were saved, you were safe. You could use Jean as an excuse and-

“She was avoiding you because she has the hots for you, Logan. Something every single person in this school knows except you.”

Well, not anything else apparently.

Logan let out a noise of surprise and looked at you, but your eyes were glued to Jean, horror and betrayal painted on your face. She mouthed ‘your welcome’ and left. What the fuck? Was that the only reason she entered, to butt into your private conversation?

“Y/n. Was what Jean said true?”

You opened your mouth and then closed it, looking like something akin to a gaping fish. “Define truth.”

Logan narrowed his eyes at you, not at all amused, and his silence forced you to continue.

You sighed, preparing yourself for the inevitable heartbreak to come. “Yes, it’s true, alright, but I never intended to act on it and I won’t act on it so you’re fine-”

“Who said I didn’t want you to act on it?”

You started. “W-what?”

Logan took another step until your chest was suddenly pressed against his. “Did I stutter?”

You felt like you were going to stutter if you said anything, so you sort of just… stood there. Waiting. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Some clarity maybe?

Certainly not Logan grabbing you by the waist and kissing you, so firm and confident you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. His hands were grabbing your waist, finding the dips in your curves and squeezing there, grabbing them and tugging you towards him.

His lips dragged across yours, adding an air of desperation to the kiss. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his bearded jaw as he kissed you deeper, seeming for all the world like he was never going to stop. You were powerless to stop it, and you found you didn’t even want to. Your walls were crumbling and you gladly let them if it meant you could continue kissing this man.

Logan hefted you up onto your desk and you let out a gasp, muffled by Logan’s lips. He smiled into the kiss anyway, amused by your surprise, and placed his hands on your knees to part them so he could get between your legs. 

You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, something he liked if the pleased grunt from his throat was anything to go by. His kissing became more fevoured, like he wanted to devour you, and you gladly let yourself drown in him.

That was until the school bell rang, startling you both out of the kiss. Or rather, just you, because Logan seemed content to move to your neck when your lips stopped responding.

“Logan,” you murmured. “I have a class to teach.”

Logan made an angry grunt and continued placing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. You laughed and gently pushed him away, causing the man to growl and look at you with such irritation you’d think you interrupted his wedding or something.

“I’m busy here,” Logan said.

You had to physically swallow the breathless sigh threatening to escape your lips, instead saying, “we can continue this later.”

“We will continue this later.”

You smiled, almost shyly, which was ironic considering he was still between your legs. “Yeah?”

Logan moved forward so he could whisper into your ear. “Now that I have you Bub, I ain’t ever letting go.”

He pulled back and your smile widened, making a mental note to thank Jean when you next saw her. “I can live with that.”

[sanarsi]

Man’s Love

no-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: Joel is your neighbor who doesn't hide his feelings for you and won't give up on winning your heart despite your rejections. Warnings: +18, MDNI, age gap (reader is 34, Joel is 40), smutttt with soft!dom!Joel (exactly how you like him), friends(?) to lovers trope, fingering, unprotected PIV Wordcount: 3,5k An: So again… I’m just a slut, you’re just a slut, we’re happy about it, enjoy bestie xx Music I worked with: OMG What’s Happening - Ava Max

Masterlist

You were happy.

You were fulfilled.

You lacked nothing.

A small house by the ocean, a stable job, friends.

But your neighbor thought differently.

Joel Miller would randomly run into you on his way home from the store at least once a week. Too bad the store was in a completely different direction. And at least once a week he invited you out for dinner, a glass of wine, a walk, and a million other things.

His intentions were clear. He never hid how much he liked you when he moved here. Oh man, he was crazy about you.

On the first day he came with a bottle of the best wine to get to know you. He was handsome, charming, funny and talkative. He definitely didn't miss anything. He even managed to steal one kiss from you. But he wanted something more. He wanted something permanent.

And you? You didn't need problems.

You thought you were too old for puppy love. Your previous relationships always gave you headaches. So why should it be any different with him?

That's why you refused him every time. Every time you told him that nothing would come of it. That you weren't what he was looking for.

But it didn't discourage him even for a moment.

Every few days you would find fresh flowers under your window, a basket of fruit that grew in his garden or colorful seashells. Every time you accepted his gifts with amusement.

Oh, he fucking fell for you. He was in love like a teenager. Even when you pushed him away he couldn't stop smiling. You looked beautiful when you tried to be mad at him because he came to you like a loyal dog again. But you couldn't and always ended up laughing, amused by his stubbornness.

He loved coming to your house and sitting on the wall watching you do ordinary things. How you hang laundry, how you care for your flowers, even how you read a stupid newspaper while ignoring him.

Despite his advances, your relationship was friendly. You sometimes went shopping together in the city. Joel sometimes fixed something in your house. You sometimes brought him sweet baked goods. You met at parties you organized for friends.

Yeah… Joel was a friend.

Even when he visited you just to convince you to like him more than just a friend. Like today. On Valentine's Day.

He stood before you with a bouquet of red lilies, a bottle of wine, and a small gift bag. He smiled broadly when he saw your surprise when you opened the door. Frowning, you looked at him carefully, scanning every inch of his body.

"Joel..." you started, sighing from exhaustion.

"Before you start saying you don't need a relationship," he interrupted you, holding up a dark bottle. "I brought your favorite wine," he said, smiling like an idiot. You blinked a few times, looking from him to the bottle of wine. He was so proud of himself that you couldn't help but roll your eyes and smile a little. "Come on, sweet girl. You can't say no to me," he encouraged you, and you just burst out laughing, shaking your head in amusement.

"Fine," you nodded and stepped aside. His smile only widened as he approached, pressing a bouquet of fragrant flowers into your hands and pressing a firm kiss to your cheek. With a quiet laugh, you closed the door behind him and followed him deeper into the house.

Joel felt at home here. He immediately started bustling around the kitchen, preparing everything he thought was necessary. Humming to himself the song that was playing quietly on the radio, he pulled out two glasses and began preparing snacks from what he found in the fridge. You put the bouquet in a vase and silently admired their intensely sweet scent. Joel always knew which flowers to choose to bring a smile to your face.

Or simply anything he did would bring a smile to your face.

Just like that.

You managed to put the vase on the table in the living room when he had already prepared everything on the terrace. You watched with amusement as he walked back and forth almost in a dance step.

He needed so little to be happy.

The sight of you was enough.

You went out onto the terrace and after a moment the music on the radio got louder. You shook your head and sat down at a small table. You grabbed one olive and popped it into your mouth the moment Joel left the house holding two glasses and an open bottle of wine.

"That thing you call a corkscrew should have ended up in the trash a long time ago" he said lightly and put everything on the table. You leaned back comfortably in the chair raising your eyebrows with a smile.

"Just because you don't know how to use it doesn't mean it's broken" you replied watching as he poured the golden alcohol into half of each glass.

"If you can use it then you're a witch" he said glancing at you before he put the bottle down and handed you one glass.

"You only noticed now?" you laughed under your breath. Joel plopped down in the chair across the table with a sigh. You took a sip of wine, looking out at the waves crashing against the stones.

“Yeah, that would explain why I am crazy about you,” he said, sipping his wine slowly. You raised an eyebrow at him in amusement. “You know, all those love spells and stuff,” he shrugged. You reached across the table and smacked his arm. Joel laughed under his breath, moving out of your reach.

“Idiot,” you muttered under your breath. You took a sip of wine and he bent down, reaching under the chair. You looked at him as he held out a small gift bag to you. You set your glass on the table and glanced suspiciously at the gift and back at him.

“Joel-“

“Yeah, I know. Just open it,” he interrupted you and nodded encouragingly at the bag.

You took the gift, still not convinced by the whole idea. You took out a small decorative box and your gaze immediately fell on Joel. He nodded again encouragingly and took a sip of wine, watching with a small smile. You rolled your eyes and continued until the glint of a thin bracelet made you stop. You stared at the thin chain with a pendant in the shape of your favorite flower. You felt a lump in your stomach as you tried to swallow. It was beautiful. Perfect for you.

You glanced at Joel who was watching you carefully as you took the bracelet out of the box. You looked at it closely, wondering how much money he had to spend on it. Fuckin’ idiot.

"Joel, I can't-"

"Yeah, I know. Let me put it on you," he interrupted you, already kneeling next to you. He took the jewelry from you and gently fastened it on your wrist. His warm touch sent a wave of shivers through your body. He grabbed your hand and looked at how the ornament looked on you before leaning down, placing a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “It’s bad luck to return gifts,” he said with a wink before returning to his seat. You looked at him, unable to say anything.

You looked at your wrist again with the new trinket and wanted to start cursing him for it. Why did he give you such gifts if you kept rejecting him? He didn't gain anything from it.

But you had to admit that you felt warmth in your heart.

A warmth you didn't want to feel.

You defended yourself from him as much as you could and yet somehow he broke through the walls around you. He made you feel like you were the center of his universe. You felt desired by someone. And you were just a human being with human needs and desires.

Fuckin’ Joel Miller.

"Do you like it?" he asked, breaking the silence that had been prolonged by your thoughts.

You smiled fondly and nodded. You finally looked at him. "Yes. Very much" you said which made butterflies flutter in his stomach.

He felt like a stupid teenager around you. And he wasn't going to let that feeling get lost because of your stubbornness.

Because Joel had already learned everything about you. And he knew that the only reason you refused him was fear. Fear that you would give him your time and end up with nothing.

The best way to avoid a broken heart?

Don't let anyone in.

But unfortunately you came across the most stubborn man in the world.

And it was with this stubborn man that you spent half the night, laughing, drinking another bottle of wine and talking about stupid things. It was with this stubborn man that you danced at sunset to radio songs. It was with this stubborn man that you felt like you were seventeen again.

Standing in his arms you let him lead the slow dance. His wide smile making you smile as he told you yet another stupid story.

"Yeah and then she looked at me like I was an idiot" he said and you threw your head back and started laughing. He loved watching you laugh. You looked so radiant then. His arm tightened around your waist.

"I'm not surprised" you said looking at him again. His gaze was so damn warm when he looked at you.

With love.

With love which you forbade him.

He stared at you like you were a work of art.

And only after a while you notice that you were just standing in the middle of the terrace. His arms wrapped around you and the calm music in the background. You gently tightened your fingers on his arm, feeling that he was walking on thin ice.

“Joel-“

"Have I told you how beautiful you look when you're happy?" he interrupted you. You blinked with your lips parted. But the damn wine made you snort under your breath.

"Yeah, three times this week," you said, amused.

"I like it when you're happy with me," he admitted, looking at you with a tender smile.

"You keep making me happy, so there's no other option," you laughed sweetly, and only when you noticed his gaze did you understand what came out of your mouth. You froze with your lips parted.

"I make you happy?" he raised an eyebrow, teasing you. He loved catching you by your words. In moments like these, he often got things he wanted out of you.

"Did you get me drunk on purpose?" you asked, frowning.

"Are you?" he asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes with a wide smile.

"No, but that's not-"

"And you're still happy?" he interrupted you. You looked at him and your smile dimmed a bit. He was serious. And he was looking at you seriously. He waited for your answer. He waited for you to understand.

“Joel, we’ve talked about this so many times. Please.”

“Please for what? To stop making you happy?”

He hit the nail on the head.

You fell silent, realizing how hopeless this all seemed.

That you were the problem.

Not him. Not that he was pushing. Not that he was a pain in the ass.

You.

His hand found its way to your cheek, gently stroking your skin. You looked at him with those big, shiny eyes like a startled deer, and he couldn't help but want to finally cross the line.

"Baby, please," he said softly, sliding his fingers down your jaw to your chin. "I just need one chance." He stroked your chin with his thumb, leaning in a little closer. Your heart was pounding in your chest. "I won't ask for more." He ran his thumb over your bottom lip. Your hot breath bounced off his skin. "One chance," he whispered, nuzzling your nose. You could barely breathe as you watched him intently from so close. "I promise." His lips brushed against yours with every word and then you were gone.

Your eyelids fell and your body stopped resisting his closeness. And he felt it immediately. His lips were on yours in less than a second. He started slowly and gently not wanting to scare you away. His arms held tightly to him not allowing any space between you. But when your hands wrapped around his neck, he allowed his tongue to sneak into your mouth.

You didn't push him away.

So he started kissing you harder.

You gasped into his mouth as his tongue began to dominate yours. He kissed like he was hungry.

And he was.

He was hungry for you like a mad man.

You didn't even notice when he pressed you against the wall, his hands gripping your hips. You moaned into his mouth, tangling your fingers in his hair. You clenched your fingers around them, trying to return his intense kisses. But you failed.

So his lips moved to your neck. You threw your head back, panting heavily as his tongue left wet marks on your skin and his teeth, bites. His whole body pressed you against the cold wall as his hands began to slide down your thighs, squeezing every inch of your soft skin. He groaned thirstily into your neck as his hands began to roll up your dress so he could get to your underwear. You did nothing to stop it.

His lips collided with yours again, making you moan. His tongue immediately found yours, just like his fingers the elastic of your panties. And he couldn't wait when he finally had you so close.

His hand dove into your panties and his fingers immediately found your wet slit. You both moaned at the same time before his mouth attacked yours again. You dug your nails into the back of his neck as his fingers began to spread the wetness along the length of your pussy. Your knees trembled beneath you as he teased your clit with every movement.

You panted, trying to kiss him back, and you clung to him tighter as his fingers entered you. He rested his forehead against yours, letting you breathe. He watched you as you both panted against each other's mouths as he fucked you with his fingers.

"You're fucking beautiful," he breathed heavily. You looked up from his lips to his eyes, moaning louder as he curled his fingers inside you.

It had been so long since anyone had touched you that it didn't take much to feel your orgasm approaching. You tightened around his fingers and gripped his neck tighter. His lips began to place slow, wet kisses on yours. His cock was already painfully hard when he had you in front of him like this. Your moans sounded even better than in his dreams.

“Joel…”

Oh and his name on your lips made him shiver in his pants. Your fucking voice alone brought him pleasure. He was like a horny teenager who finally got into someone’s panties. But the difference was that now he knew how to take care of a woman.

That's why when you came on his fingers he felt so damn proud. He kissed every moan that escaped your lips before he pulled his fingers out of you, letting your orgasm begin to soak through your panties.

You were already drunk from his touch when he attacked your lips, starting to drag you into the house. You submitted to everything he did, moaning every time you hit each wall, too absorbed in each other. Joel managed to get rid of his shirt before he started unbuttoning your dress. You hungrily responded to his every kiss as your fingers worked to fasten his pants. Finally your dress fell to the floor.

Joel pressed you against the wall and his hands immediately began to explore your bare skin. He embraced your waist with one hand and his other hand found its way to your breast. You moaned into his mouth when he gently squeezed his fingers and his thumb ran over your nipple which immediately hardened under his touch.

You finally managed to unbutton his pants and you were about to plunge your hand into them but then Joel pushed you back and you landed on the soft mattress. You supported yourself on your elbows, panting heavily as he took off his pants and boxers in one move. You slid down his body thirstily.

You fell back onto the bed with a smile and slid your panties off and threw them at him. Joel laughed under his breath as they bounced off his chest and fell to the ground. You bit your lip in excitement as his body finally walled up above yours.

He hummed in satisfaction at the smile you were trying to hold back. He leaned down connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You placed your hands on his cheeks holding him close to you. And you had to admit that it felt so damn good.

You felt his tip slide through your wet slit, making you gasp. And when he slowly entered you, you both broke the kiss, moaning into each other's mouths. Joel rested his forehead against yours, panting heavily as he buried his entire cock inside you. It took him a few seconds to wrap his head around the fact that he was finally inside you before he started moving his hips.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he began to kiss your neck. His cock slowly rubbed against your sweet spot. He groaned as he thrust into you all the way over and over again. His hands slid down to your waist and hips and he gripped them tightly to hold you in place as he began to thrust into you with more energy.

Harder.

Deeper.

Until your legs began to tremble.

You closed your eyes, arching your back as his cock brought you closer to the edge with each thrust. He straightened up, panting heavily, and looked down at you as you arched in pleasure. He ran his eyes down your naked body, feeling like he'd won the fucking lottery. You looked like all of his fantasies came true.

Probably because you were his only fantasy.

His gaze fell on the spot where his cock disappeared inside you.

Oh fuck.

His hips slowed as he began to enjoy the sight of your wet pussy surrounding him perfectly. He growled throatily, stroking his hand over your thighs.

"You look amazing taking my cock like this," he said, making you moan. Not only was he a good fucker, but he also used dirty words. And who was perfect for who here?

His hands gripped your hips again as he sped up his thrusts into you. The air left your lungs and your ragged moans mixed with his soft growls. You clenched around him, feeling the pleasure too intense. And Joel continued to thrust into you like an animal.

“Oh baby I hope you’re close because I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back,” he breathed, watching your face bathed in pleasure.

"Yes, yes" you almost squealed feeling like you were fighting for an orgasm with every movement he made. Joel smiled with satisfaction and leaned down to connect your lips. But the kiss quickly turned into an exchange of moans.

You dug your nails into his skin not knowing what to do with your hands as his cock hit the sensitive spot in your pussy every time. Until finally you felt a wave of orgasm take over your body. You moaned loudly clenching on him hard barely allowing him to move inside you.

"Oh fuck baby," he groaned feeling your orgasm perfectly along the entire length of his cock. And he didn't stop thrusting hard into you, prolonging your pleasure and chasing his own.

Your cunt creamed his cock so hard that the wet sounds could be heard in the room every time he entered you. Until he began thrusting slowly but so hard that the bed hit the wall as he came, moaning loudly. He thrust into you a few more times, coming deep inside you.

Your wet foreheads rested against each other as you both panted heavily. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt your body relax from the weight of your orgasm. Joel leaned down connecting your lips in a soft and slow kiss and you wrapped your arms around him, tangling your fingers in his wet hair.

“One chance,” he whispered against your lips, glancing into your eyes. You fell silent, watching him and pursed your lips as a soft smile spread across yours.

“Okay,” you nodded quietly before his lips crushed yours again.

[ceilidho]

hound dog

prompt: You pick up Ghost from a bar for a one night stand. Too bad Ghost isn't interested in a casual hook up. (nsfw, 6.7k) [based on this old post] [on ao3 here]

-

Rare is the day when a stupid girl doesn’t do stupid things.

This is just one of many such occurrences. Stepping into the dimly lit dive bar—the one miles from your place, reeking of tobacco and leather and motor oil, the noxious perfume of week old sweat and weed stinking up the joint, pardon the pun—with too much eyeliner and mascara on, and a skirt too short for you—and would you just stop fiddling with it? But you can’t because that would mean admitting that it barely fits over your ass, that putting on a skirt so short was a choice, an invite, a teasing little taunt to the men in the bar saying, what are you waiting for? I’m asking for it, aren’t I—

What’s that saying again?

Ah, yes. Choices made in anger cannot be undone.

It’s why you’re planted at the bat some six weeks after being dumped, two weeks after being ghosted for the third time in a row, a smile on your face despite your crumbling self-esteem. Pride hanging in tatters. Grimacing when you find the bartop sticky with congealed liquor, the residue sticking to your skin when you quickly lift your elbows off. But there’s a time for self-pity and a time for getting it the fuck togther. This just happens to be one of the latter times.

“What’m I gettin’ you?” the bartender in front of you asks, barely impressed with your get-up. Not even attempting to conceal his distaste when he eyes you up and down, lingering on the way your tits are practically spilling out of your top. 

“Do you have any cocktails?” you ask. Wrong question. The eye roll isn’t even suppressed for your benefit when he makes it clear to you, in no uncertain terms, that it’s whatever he can pour straight from a bottle or the fancy bar for cityfolk down the road. He says it like that, the word practically sneered out. Cityfolk. 

Nerves shaken, you sip at your red wine after he leaves you to your own devices, your glass poured straight from the box. It could function passably as lighter fluid if the circumstances called for it. Still, you swallow it with a positive attitude, emboldened by the knowledge that you’re here for one thing and one thing only:

to get fucked within an inch of your life by one of the greasy-haired, cut-wearing, cigarette-smoking men lining the bar. 

Even the thought sends a thrill down your spine. 

It’s an age old question, isn’t it? What’s a girl to do (when her love life’s falling apart / when her credit score just bottomed out because her ex-boyfriend ran up her credit cards behind her back / when her job’s steadily becoming unbearable but quitting would mean scrambling to find a job that’ll pay anywhere near to what this one’s paying her) to get a drink around here? 

Evidently, the answer isn’t to use a dating app; you can say that confidently after waiting around in fancier bars than this for several no-show dates. 

You’re feeling appropriately over the whole thing. Ready to call it quits. Uninstall all of the apps on your phone and hire a matchmaker or ask a friend to set you up with a coworker of theirs. But that’ll be later, down the line when you aren’t dealing with the issue at hand.

The issue being that—

you’re really fucking horny. 

Embarrassingly so. Enough that you were willing to travel miles away from home to avoid accidentally hooking up with anyone you might run into later on while out getting groceries or on a morning run. 

It’s just better to play things close to your chest. Keep your romantic life and your sexual exploits far apart (not that you’d know much about keeping things separate; you’ve never had much of a sex life to keep hidden) lest you get mired in a stickier situation than you’re comfortable being in. 

Despite the rough start, the bar you chose seems promising. There’s a man at the other side of the bar that keeps drawing your eye. It’s the hulking size of him at first, then the grime clinging to the folds of his skin, worn in from years of hard labor. He looks like a man fresh off a fourteen-hour shift or a fortnight spent on an oil rig in the middle of the Baltic sea, freshly washed ashore, kelp and barnacles still fused to his skin, not yet pried off. 

Rough is the only word you’d use to describe him. A face covered in nicks and old scars, his upper lip slightly puckered and scarred from cleft lip surgery. When he turns his head to say something to the bartender, you catch a glimpse of a cauliflower ear, the cartilage of his tragus and antihelix swollen and deformed. 

He’s exactly what you’ve been looking for. If you’d given it more thought, you think you could’ve conjured up an image of the man across the bar all by yourself. It’s like someone plucked him straight out of your head. Big and brawny, broad shoulders that you can imagine dangling your ankles off, and well-muscled arms that you can imagine digging your nails into. It would take both of your hands and extra to wrap around his bicep. The thought makes you shiver.

You try to catch his attention subtly. Looking over at him from under your lashes, quick, smoldering glances meant to draw his attention to you, so that he approaches you first. You keep waiting for the moment when he’ll notice your stare and hold your gaze, a question being asked and answered between your eyes before reeling him in with a coy little smile. 

But when a half hour goes by without a single glance your way, your hope begins to wane. 

He doesn’t look up no matter how many times you glance over at him. It’s frustrating; you know he feels the weight of your stare. His disregard is purposeful, deliberate; like he knows your attention is fixed on him but he can’t be bothered to so much as return your stare. You wonder if that means he’s got a lady at home, a little bird cooped up in his house that he’s more eager to get back to after he’s had a drink to take off the edge than flirt with some trussed up floozy at the bar.

That makes you squirm, self-consciousness rearing its ugly head again. Maybe you made a mistake coming here. 

It’s not as though you’re being completely ignored, it’s just that the caliber of men that have approached you so far haven’t really inspired much, carnally speaking. You’ve sent the few braver ones away, a half-hearted thanks but no thanks when they offer to buy you a drink. Most leave without a word, though a few mutter obscenities under their breath before shoving their hands in their pockets and stalking away. Bitch. Dumb cunt. 

Calling it a night feels like a natural next step. With the attitude you keep getting from the bartender and the way the only man you’re remotely attracted to refuses to so much as glance your way, it doesn’t feel right to stay out any longer. Embarrassment heats you like a low grade fever, warm in your belly. Wine sloshes around in your stomach when you slip off the stool, hunger now another pressing concern. 

You’ll ask him on your way back from the bathroom. If he turns you down after that, you’ll slink off into the night with your tail tucked between your legs. There’ll always be next weekend to try again. You promise yourself that because the alternative is acknowledging how defeated this entire experience has left you, no less disappointing than going on the same boring first date with a guy from Tinder. 

In the bathroom, you dab your face with water and stare at your reflection in the dirty mirror. It looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in years; finger smudges and white strains streaked across the glass. You wonder how many strangers have fucked in this bathroom over the years. The thought makes you grimace even more when you notice that the floor is slightly sticky, the ground sounding tacky beneath your shoes. 

When you come out, the man from across the bar is waiting by the door, so close that you flinch, eyes widening. The narrow hallway means that he’s barely three feet from you when you stand in the doorframe. 

“We leavin’ or what?” he growls, voice as deep as you thought it might be, gruff and husky. 

He’s just as imposing in front of you as he was from across the bar. Maybe more so. You’re forced to crane your neck to look up at him this close, lips parting on an inaudible exhale. There’s something about a brutish man that’s always taken your breath away; everything from the blunt chin to the pronounced brow. His face is flecked with pale, keloidal skin; rubbery nodules from old injuries. 

Dumbstruck, you can only nod, following behind him when he turns away from you, headed towards the parking lot out back where his truck is parked. 

You’re really doing this. You’re really doing this. That’s the only thought in your head when he unlocks his truck and pops the door open for you, waiting until you’re buckled in before slamming the door shut. 

He’s quiet on the car ride back to his place, unconcerned with getting to know you or defusing the tension in the truck. You can’t say you blame him. There’s a reason you chose a bar so far from home as a hunting ground. If you wanted to get to know someone, you would’ve met someone at a coffee shop. 

When you ask his name, he grunts it out like it’s an inconvenience. Simon. He doesn’t give you more than that, even when you awkwardly ask him what he does for work. Blatantly ignores your questions. The rebuff smarts for some reason, makes you frown and duck your chin to your chest, shoulders hunched.

His demeanor is so off-putting that halfway through the drive, you wonder if you misunderstood him somehow, if he means to drive you home instead of taking you back to his place (but that can’t be right, otherwise wouldn’t he have asked for your address?). It’s just hard to reconcile his churlish attitude towards you with his ostensible invitation to fuck. 

Maybe he doesn’t intend to fuck you at all. Maybe you managed to pick up the one serial killer in a twenty mile radius and stupidly followed him back to his truck without telling anyone who you planned to go home with. Your blood curdles at the thought, hackles raised when you imagine him sizing you up from across the bar, all prettied up and doe-eyed, easy prey. 

Your breathing picks up. “I, um…actually, c-could you…could you just drop me off at my place?”

Simon rolls his eyes so hard that it’s almost audible. “Not gonna kill ya, bird.” 

That doesn’t go a long way towards reassuring you, but you don’t dig your heels in and demand he take you home either. 

“Do you live nearby?” you ask, suddenly chatty. Why, oh why.

Simon looks over at you, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift. He drives a manual, you notice. A few too many seconds go by in silence. You wish somebody would just staple your mouth shut already. 

“Yeah,” he says finally, turning back to watch the road, taking a left turn up ahead without using his signal. So it’s that kind of drive.

You keep your mouth shut for the rest of it lest he decide you’re too much of a hassle and turn back. You’re poised right on the edge of something new and exciting, and the thought of that slipping through your fingers makes you feel a bit crazy. So many men before have shown you that same snap dislike. Like you’re tolerable over text or as a dimensionless photo, but not as a flesh and blood person, the real mechanics of you all wrong. It’s an intolerable thought—that people can only like you when you smile and keep your mouth shut.

Still, you’ll do it now, for a price. 

Part of you expects him to pull you into his lap when he pulls into his driveway and puts the truck in park. It’s what you’ve seen in movies. The rest of the night plays out in your head in piecemeal flashes; ravenous passion, hands tearing clothes off each other’s bodies, a shoe left on the porch in your hurry to get inside. Hungry, devouring; slick mouths parting for barely long enough to breathe.

Then Simon cuts the engine and gets out of the truck without so much as a glance your way, like you aren’t even there.

He still comes around to open the door for you. You frown at him through the window, affronted. Baffled at his continued nonchalance. Like even keeping your mouth shut isn’t enough to keep a man’s interest. Where you expected passion and fervor, you’re met with cool indifference. 

Simon pops the door open. “Get out.”

The house itself is nothing special. A two-story cookie-cutter house built in the seventies; weathered, beige-coloured vinyl siding and a neatly trimmed lawn, with a few patches of overgrown grass and weeds. There’s a trailer parked in front of the closed garage, a few planks of wood strapped down in the bed. When you follow him up the walkway, you notice how quiet the neighborhood is, and for some reason that makes you even more jittery. 

You stop in the doorway, frustration breaking your timidity like snapping an ampoule. “Do you even want to—” fuck me, goes unsaid. Too humiliating to even ask. But you ask anyway, the question itself implicit even in so few words. 

Dark eyes stare down at you, impenetrable. You’re struck by the sense of something primordial slithering under his skin. His expression is hard, his face carved from granite; when his expression shifts, it’s like watching tectonic plates create mountains, plates pushed upward by mantle plumes.

He fits a big paw under your chin, fingers pressing into the fat of your cheeks hard enough to make your lips purse. Your heart skips a beat when he angles your head from side to side, looking you over like a pet he’s considering bringing home. You almost go cross-eyed when he bends down, his forehead nearly brushing yours, so close that you can smell the scent of cigarettes clinging to his clothes, see the grease smudged on his face and the folds around his eyes. 

A grin flickers across his lips, gone as it came. “Yeah. I do.”

And doesn’t that tie your stomach in a knot? Your nerves in a pretty bow? 

Inside, his house is just as unremarkable. You’d know in a single glance that a single man lived here; a functional, no-frills living space. Nothing more than a worn couch, a TV, and a few pieces of obvious hand-me-down furniture. It’s hard to glean anything from the minimal decoration around his place, but he doesn’t give you much of a chance to look around. That’s not the point of why you’re in his house. 

“Eat anything yet, bird?” Simon asks from the kitchen, opening the fridge without purpose. It looks like more of a reflex than anything, the first thing he does the second he gets home for the night and the last thing he does before going to bed. From the size of him, it makes sense; his body is muscle on muscle, covered by a healthy layer of fat, just a surface layer over the bulk beneath. 

You shake your head. “No.”

“Have a bite, then.”

“I’m not, uh, hungry though,” you deflect rather than saying the obvious, which is, I came to your house to have sex, not make sandwiches at the kitchen counter together. 

He shuts the fridge door, pinning you with his stare. “Your call. Could’ve used the energy though.”

You swallow. 

The first thing you do after he herds you into the bedroom is try to pull him into a kiss, cupping his cheeks and standing up on your tiptoes. Before your eyelids flutter shut, you catch a glimpse of a cocked brow. Then you press your lips to a slack mouth that doesn’t move no matter how much passion you infuse in your kiss and feel embarrassment flare up in your guts. 

Bastard. You should’ve expected that he wouldn’t kiss you back. 

“Sorry,” you mutter, breaking the facsimile of a kiss and dropping back down onto your heels. 

You flinch when he grabs you by the back of the neck and reels you back in, forcing you back onto your tiptoes, “Don’t be,” grunted against your mouth before fusing your lips together. A pathetic keen climbs up your throat, eyelids slipping shut. 

His greed leaks from him like tar, his kiss so messy and violent that you’re almost too jarred to do anything apart from hang on. Teeth clack against yours, a horrid sensation, the lust in your belly abating long enough for the real world to slink back in and you get flashes of it: hands winding around a thick neck, a scratchy cheek against your lip when he twists his head to angle your noses better, a tongue shoving into your mouth unceremoniously, no finesse at all. Straight to the main point. 

A shudder wracks you from head to toe when you try to break the kiss only to find the hand on your neck firm, holding you in place. The subtle reminder that he can do whatever he wants with you, that you willingly went home with a man big and strong enough to pin you down and fuck you however rough he wants. 

“Simon,” you whine, squirming against him, gasping a breath and his name again when he wrestles you back into the kiss. “No—Simon—”

“Stay fuckin’ still,” he snarls against your lips, and you freeze, knees going weak when his fingers dig into your jaw to hold you in place.

The endorphin rush nearly makes your vision white out. A sudden winter storm, the blood rushing to your cheeks and the tip of your nose, your breath coming out quick and choppy. Lungs barely filling up with each inhale. 

“Get this off,” Simon growls, tugging on your skirt when you don’t move fast enough. He doesn’t wait for you to catch up, content to wrench your skirt off himself instead, your panties along with it. 

It takes your breath away, how fast you go from clothed to partially nude. Trying to match his fervor is a losing game, so you just try to keep up. Your hands tug at his belt, desperately trying to undo it, and he chuckles when he notices; big hands paw at your ass while you shakily pop the buckle out of the first loop. 

He takes over after that, popping the button on his jeans one-handed. 

“Wanna handle the rest?” he prompts, an eyebrow jutting up, expectant. Lazy with his arrogance; oozing rugged masculinity. It’d infuriate you if it didn’t get you so hot. 

Your fingers are numb by the time you pull his jeans down, kneeling at his feet and gazing up at him with wide eyed devotion as he kicks off his boots and shakes the pants off his legs, nothing under his jeans. His pale white thighs are dusted in fine blond hairs, mottled with burns and scars and old, faded cigarette marks, like someone used his legs as an ashtray. The thought makes your throat close up.  

He shucks off his shirt while you stare at the shaft heavy with blood hanging between his legs, drooping with its own weight. Flushed red at the head and streaked with dark veins, leaking a steady drip of precum. The hair at the base of his dick is of a darker shade, gold like straw. 

Your stomach swoops at the sight, dropping to the pits of you. You swallow. Maybe you’ve bit off a little more than you can chew. A lot more.

As if sensing your unease, a wide hand is suddenly firm on the back of your head, urging you closer. “Gonna give it a kiss?”

It’s not a question. You know that and you know that you’re way out of your league; that if you panic now you’ll flounder. So instead of fighting it, you lean forward and press a shy kiss to the weeping head of his dick. 

You lick your lips instinctively when you draw back, lapping up the precum smeared across them. The taste makes you wrinkle your nose. It’s salty; bitter. Not altogether pleasant. 

Simon wraps a hand around his dick and holds it to your lips. “Open your mouth, bird. Get me nice ‘n wet.”

A shudder rolls through you, but there’s little else you can do except part your lips and squeeze your eyes shut. It’s a struggle to fit more than just the head in your mouth, his dick too wide to take more than that. Your eyes water at the stretch, the musky taste of his cum overwhelming. 

Any experience you’ve had before this pales in comparison. It’s like the first time all over again. His cock is heavy on your tongue, instantly making your eyes water. The grip he still has on the base of his cock tells you that he doesn’t expect you to swallow the whole length (an impossible task; you go cold with dread at even the thought), but Simon doesn’t hesitate to grip your head firmer when he feels you falter, forcing you to take as much as you can.

When you gag, he shushes you. “Keep at it—you’re fine.”

You wonder if he thinks by saying it, it makes it true. You’re very much not fine, struggling to breathe through your nose and suck him off without scraping his cock with your teeth.

Your exhale when he pulls you off his cock by your hair is full of both relief and trepidation. Your lips feel swollen and tender when you touch them with your fingers. 

“Can we please have sex now?” you ask, dazed enough to be bold. 

Simon cracks a smile at that, endeared somehow. “Gotta get up for that, bird.”

You have to brace your hands against his chest when you get to your feet, the blood that rushes to your head making you wobbly. Even on your feet, he’s so much taller than you, a behemoth. Men like him have always been your type, but Simon is really in a league of his own. 

Glancing up at him from under your lashes, you bite your lip. You’ve seen that in movies before, starlettes bringing men to their knees with just a look. Coquette; demure. It’s harder to replicate than you thought, but you’ve never rehearsed this before. This is a one-time, live performance. The culmination of everything you’ve ever read or watched or studied. 

You keep up the ruse of being sexy by crawling onto his bed on your hands and knees, dropping down onto your elbows once situated in the middle of the mattress. The debauchery of wiggling your ass back at the man who took you home from the bar would overwhelm you if you weren’t playing a part right now. Role playing. This isn’t who you usually are, but if it’s only for one night, you can force out the self-scrutiny and timidity. 

Silence hangs in the air like a bubble, waiting to be burst. You fight the urge to look over your shoulder at him. 

Then Simon exhales, breaking the silence. Goosebumps ripple down your arms. 

The mattress dips under his weight when he settles behind you, hands immediately sinking into the flesh of your ass and pulling your cheeks apart. No preamble. You open your mouth to say something, but thick, coarse fingers are already dipping between your thighs and playing with your hole, sinking a finger in up to the first knuckle. 

You breathe out shakily, shoulders tensing. The sheets reek of him, musky and ripe; you concentrate on that instead of the fingers penetrating you, getting you ready for his dick. Your walls squeeze tight around his fingers when he forces another one in. 

When he finally feeds his cock into you, the stretch is nearly unbearable. The sharp stab of pain that accompanies it almost makes you flinch away, but Simon drags you back by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere, bird,” he rumbles. “Relax. It’s going in.”

What can you say to something like that? 

His whole frame presses you into the mattress, the breath forced from your lungs. Bigger now that he’s got you on your belly. Suddenly making two hundred pounds seem less abstract, more real. He bullies as much of his cock into you as he can, paying no mind to the way you squeal and kick your legs. 

“Real tight cunt,” Simon grunts, humming with his pleasure when his hips punch forward and your pussy squelches around his length. So lewd.

His knees on either side of you keep you trapped in place, nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. All you can do is lie under him and let him rut between your thighs, gasping for breath with every thrust. The sweat is slick down your back, half yours and half his. 

“Ya let other men fuck this cunt, bird?” he asks. It sounds hypothetical, like it’s said half to rile himself up, and though it prickles at your nerves, you don’t complain too much because he fucks you rougher after the words slip out of his mouth. 

When you don’t answer him though, concentrating more on filling your lungs and not biting your tongue off, he grabs your face and twists your head until you’re looking over your shoulder at him, neck aching with the strain. 

“Answer me,” he demands, sounding almost pissed off. 

“N-no—”

“Good,” he grunts. Satisfied.

His words should piss you off. How dare he ask you about fucking other men as if he were your husband or boyfriend. You have half a mind to cuss him out, but then he pumps his hips forward and your face goes numb from pleasure. Electric impulses zip up and down your skin, sizzling your nerves. 

Besides, maybe it’s hot that he’s acting like you belong to him. Like you’re his; his girl that he picked up from the bar after a long shift, eager to go home and lay her out on the bed so he could fuck his pretty girl into a tongue-tied stupor. It certainly does it for you, a thin filigree of pleasure winding its way down your spine. 

It’s an intoxicating fantasy—being wanted by a man in a real, visceral way. It’s one you’ve never gotten close to before, never even grazed with the tips of your fingers, no matter how far you stretched out your arms. You don’t know what men see when they look at you, but it can’t be anything worth keeping. 

He fucks you like he wants to pry you open and leave a piece of him inside. A big hand fits around your neck and tightens; a collar, a manacle. 

Hard to feel anything but grateful though. It’s everything you wanted but never thought you’d get out of this experience. You expected to feel like a body on a butcher’s block, hacked limb from limb. Marble ribbing on the inside. Brought to a high only to be left out in the cold after. 

You never expected apotheosis. You never expected the filth murmured into your ear, the lurid, coarse diatribe in surround sound, all perfect fuckin’ pussy, can’t wait to shove my tongue inside, gonna make you suck my cock while I eat that perfect cunt out—

All—

Perfect fuckin’ girl; you don’t give this to anyone else, do ya? Knew you were gaggin’ for it back in the bar, but wanted to wait ‘n see; turned the rest of ‘em down, didn’t ya? Not a fuckin’ slut. Jus’ for me—only hungry for my cock—

It’s too rough, too much. Overpowering. Musk and body heat and raw strength, his forearms planted on the mattress on either side of your head. The scent of him suffocating, smothering. Heady. In your pores, on the back of your tongue, in your belly. He’s everywhere.

If only you could put it into words. The fire in your belly growing so wild, so out of control, that it threatens to incinerate you. Thinking dangerous thoughts—that you could be his, that he wants you so bad he can’t stand the idea of anyone having you before him, that he’ll kill anyone that touched you before, rip them apart with his bare hands, cut out their hearts and slice it ‘em up real thin so he could feed you the strips with his hands—

“Fuck—” Simon pants in your ear, pulling his cock out of your cunt. You whine, clenching down on nothing, suddenly empty, until he turns you roughly over onto your back and grabs one of your flailing ankles, hooking it over a burly shoulder. “Cunt this good oughta be locked down. Should just chain your leg to the bed so I can wake up to this pussy every day. Would’ya like that, bird?”

Like it? You think wildly—

Keep me, keep me, keep me, pleasepleaseplease.

The leg not hooked over Simon’s shoulder gets pulled around his hip, spreading your legs wider to accommodate the width of him between them. The scour of his voice threatens to erode you, smash you to pieces. There won’t be anything left after he’s done with you. 

He’s just so big. Built like an ox, broad and solid. When he braces his forearms on either side of you, his biceps bulge, skin pulling taut over the muscle. The dark hair of his pits is stark against pale flesh. 

Blood roars in your ears and over you, he moves like a wave, filling you up again and again. You’re swimming in uncharted waters now; gazing out into an unfamiliar and dangerous sea. A swell this big might take you right under. 

Too bad for you, the hazy adumbration of danger in his words is pitted against the maw in your soul, the deep, cavernous hole that yawns wider with each passing year. 

For years now, you’ve had the same dream: overlooking a sea of evergreen peaks illuminated by a silky moonlight hue, winding a long, narrow road darkened on both sides by tightly clustered trees, your arms wrapped around your chest. Cold layered like a skin, sinking deep into your bones, cold wet like a damp hate; trees clustered around your wandering soul, spurned into wandering like a little undead ghost with teeth clattering in Morse code, saying: so many wrongs done, it is almost incomprehensible.

Is it too much to ask to be wanted? 

You need it like air. 

The issue is that—

more than horny, you’re really, really fucking lonely. 

For years now, you’ve had the same dream: a dream of being a lighthouse keeper, skin saltwater slick, seafoam on the backs of your knuckles, slathering over frozen fingers clutching at the gallery railing. Beckoning something to you.

What it is, you do not know.

“Look at tha’,” Simon says wonderingly, grabbing your face and yanking it towards him, forcing you to meet his eyes again. “Just needed to get turned out on a fat cock, didn’t ya?”

“Yeah,” you gasp. “So good, Simon, ohmygod—”

“Only this needy for me, right?” The glint in his eye is terrifying.

“Only you, only you—”

“That’s right,” he growls, bearing all of his weight down on you, forehead to forehead. His sweat-slick chest slides against yours, cock buried so deep that you can taste him at the back of your throat. Dark eyes stare down at you with an intensity that steals the breath from you, glossy like he’s rapidly losing the ability to be consciously present, but ever attentive to the pleasure rippling across your face. 

When his cock grinds into the soft plug of your womb, his eyes narrow when yours bulge, and he batters that spot until you seize up and spasm around him. His buzz cut gives you nothing to hold onto, so you dig your nails into the bulky planes of his back instead. 

“Fuck—hold on, Christ, fuck; here it comes,” he spits, the veins in his neck protruding when he grits his teeth. 

Your blood goes red hot when he rams deep into you, each thrust deliberate. Hips losing their rhythm. You don’t notice the first spurt of cum, too preoccupied with the smell and weight of him blanketing you, infiltrating every crevice of your body, but the second is hot. Scorching. You ignore the screaming alarm at the back of your head, barely coherent enough to parse out its meaning. All you can focus on is the warmth spreading inside you and your own walls pulsing around his cock, milking his release out of him. 

Time blurs. You lose some of it. 

You don’t come back until Simon rolls over onto his back, taking you with him. His cock is still buried inside of you, his cum running out in rivulets, pooling at the base of his dick lodged at your entrance. You’re going to be messy when he finally pulls out. 

Despite the ache already setting in, you feel reborn. Renewed. The old, dead skin flayed off. You can’t imagine how you’ll feel when you’ve got your energy back, when even tracing your eyes across the other side of his room doesn’t take tremendous effort. The traces of him littered around the room make you curious. A half empty glass. Steel-toed boots sticking out of a half-opened closet. A damp towel crumpled into a ball on the floor. 

You squeeze your eyes shut. There’s no use trying to fill the gaps in. Whoever Simon is won’t matter in the light of day. You repeat this to yourself until it sticks. 

When you try to get up, planting both hands on his chest, he pulls you back down, forcing your head onto the pillow of his chest. “Simon, the sheets are wet—”

“I’ll deal with it later,” Simon says, eyes already shut, on the verge of falling asleep. “Now shut up. You’re ruining the fucking afterglow.” 

You wake up the next morning covered in bruises and bite marks and dried cum between your thighs and on your belly, so sore that even twitching your finger hurts.

It takes awhile for everything to come back to you. When it finally does, consciousness snaps back into you, discomfort giving way to quiet self-satisfaction. You managed to do it. Your first one-night stand. A real milestone. The tacky sheets beneath you are proof enough of your accomplishment. 

The sadness slithers in when you realize that it’s over. One and done. In a half hour or so, the man plastered against your back and breathing heavily on the crown of your head will wake up, groggy and bleary eyed, and side-eye you until you put back on your clothes from the night before and slink out, tail tucked between your legs. A few hours delayed from when you were planning to throw in the towel at the bar, but still. In the end, it always comes around. 

A gruff voice at your side tells you to quiet, bird—s'too early for your bitchin’ before manhandling you onto your stomach and shoving his raw cock into your cunt and it’s only now that it dawns on you that you were too horny last night to remember to ask him to use protection. 

The thought is wiped from your head when he bucks his hips forward, impaling you on his swollen length. You lose track of time after that. 

Breakfast is an informal affair. Cereal from a box and a bit too much milk, and a cup of instant coffee. You wince when you sit down across from Simon at the kitchen table, your inner thighs still tender and pussy sore from the battering it just took. If it strokes his ego to see how gingerly you sit down, he doesn’t show it. 

It’s weird sitting across the table from him after last night. Hard to just leave it unaddressed, the truth simmering in the air. The red marks across his back make you wince, cheeks heating. Thin crescent marks and scored nails. It’s hard to reconcile yourself with the girl from last night. 

He eats in silence for the most part though, ravenous after the night before. Doesn’t comment on the state of his shoulders or the way you shift on your chair. Not even bothering to make eye contact with you. Your appetite takes a bit of a hit watching him shovel food into his mouth, hardly even pausing long enough to breathe, but you’ve seen plenty of hungry men eat before. 

Still though, silence has always had a way of getting under your skin. You’re not comfortable around it, prone to chattering. So you can’t help the way your mouth opens and the words come out involuntarily. 

“Do you do this a lot?”

“I don’t shit where I eat,” Simon grunts dismissively.

The expression makes you grimace. “So do you usually pick up girls elsewhere or—”

The look he gives you could melt the flesh off your bones. You realize your misstep, interrogating the man you just fucked about his other hookups. Best not to ask questions. It’s not like you’ll see him again after this. 

These last few moments are bittersweet. There won’t be many opportunities like this in the future, mainly because you don’t think you’re cut out for one-night stands. Last night proved that. As good as it was—and for as many times as you came, another time in the wee hours of the morning when Simon rolled over on top of you and shoved your legs apart to eat you out (a midnight snack)—in the light of day, you feel world weary. Like something monumental happened and passed you by. 

You almost want to thank him for making it special, but the anxiety around finally pissing him off is more than you can bear. You want to leave on a good note. It’s better this way. You’ll never have confirmation about whether he’d eventually grow tired of you like everyone else. Never know if he’d one day manage to lose interest in the real you, not the made up sex kitten from the bar. 

It’s better this way.

You tell yourself that when you push your chair out and stand up, hands fisting in the oversized shirt Simon made you wear before leaving the bedroom. “I should get going.”

He stops eating, staring up at you. His eyes are inscrutable, and the longer he stares, the less you understand his look. 

You shift from foot to foot. “Thanks for… I had a good time.”

Simon doesn’t say anything, but when he drops his spoon into the bowl, the metal clang makes you flinch. 

His silence leaves you off balance, like you’ve overstepped somehow. All motion stills under his scrutiny. 

“Got somewhere ya need to be?” he asks, a vague, almost menacing undercurrent in his voice. It’s said like a warning. There shouldn’t be anywhere else you need to be. 

“I…—don’t you want me to leave?”

He looks distinctly unimpressed. “You gonna walk home like that?” His words make you tug at his shirt, pulling it down to cover your thighs.

Your whole life has been made up of misunderstandings. Missed opportunities. Men who you thought loved you vanishing into thin air. You’re a poem often lost in translation. A long game of hide and seek; people run towards you then feign right, leaving you in the dust. 

Whatever this is, you don’t recognize it. 

You swallow on a dry throat. “…No?”

Simon searches your expression for something before he nods, satisfied. “Then sit the fuck back down. Finish your damn breakfast.”

You sit back down (wincing when you do) because the alternative is admitting that you don’t know what’s next. That you’re out of step again, but this time without that sinking feeling in your belly. A wild fluttering instead. That thought again that maybe you’ve bit off more than you can chew. 

What’s that saying again?

Ah, yes. Choices made in anger cannot be undone.

[hellfire--cult]

Harrington!reader who struck up a friendship with Billy after finding him crying. It wasn’t long until she developed a crush on the older boy. But she knew she was the least attractive girl in school, and on the cheerleading squad. Every girl was all over him, she never thought he’d see her that way.

Movie Night

I'm so sorry, I got carried away, and I made it super long, SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY AND I HOPE EVERYONE ELSE DOES this has: fluff, angst, mean brother persona on Steve's behalf, OOC Billy Hargrove, soft side.

wc: 8k (i got a lil inspired, no one requests Billy and I love to write him 😭)

Stupid Steve. Stupid school. Stupid fucking stereotypes.

You understand, you get it, the fucking sister of Steve Harrington should be the perfect girl, perfect as her idiotic brother. If only they knew that being in every single sport isn’t what Steve wants, it isn’t what he desires, it isn’t what he always dreamed about. 

But it’s not that perfection they want from you, oh no. It’s not your fault you have bad eye sight so you have to wear glasses, and for some reason that made you fucking undesirable. Just because you are wearing glasses, and you’ve been wearing them ever since middle school, where there were minimum problems with it, and now in high school when you just want to be able to date someone, or even kiss, it’s almost impossible because of them.

So yes, you knew people didn’t want to be with you, and you knew that it was all because of the idealization of the Harrington girl not meeting their expectations. Jokes on them, every single fucking guy in school looks like stepped on shit.

When you finally got into freshmen year, you already knew Steve was the most popular guy in school, always boosting about it at the dinner table, father always saying how proud he is for Steve being the captain of almost every fucking imaginable sport. You looked up to Steve, you really did look up to your brother… Until you crossed those forsaken high school doors, and the only face your brother sent you was that of disgust and turned his back on you.

And that sets your fate.

Now as a Junior, your brother finally graduates this year. Ever since he started dating Nancy who is in the same year as you, he has relatively changed. At home, he now tries to invite you to hang with him at the mall, or tell you to have dinner together when your parents aren’t home… You declined his invitation every time. You prefer to eat dinner in your bed, alone, while he drives away to be with Nancy. Just you, your books, and some good music. You are fine. 

It doesn’t help the fact that you have just one friend at school, and she’s not even always with you because she is Nancy’s Best Friend. Barb was always nice to you, and it’s the only one you talked to in class, because then in cheerleading practice, which you had to enter because you needed extracurricular credit because your parents said so, you were given the cold shoulder by every teammate there. You didn’t participate in the cheers really, you just wear the uniform every now and then and pass them bottles of water.

You just have to survive one year, just one more year and you can go to college, probably start anew, meet people, meet someone. You fixed your glasses on the bridge of your nose as you took notes while sitting at the bleachers, hearing the squeak of the tennis shoes of all the boys in the basketball team just going around. You hear a thump, making your eyes look up to see your brother laying on the floor, making you frown.

Then it made sense, as Billy Hargrove smirked, helping your brother stand up again. 

You knew that he wanted to take Steve’s position as the most popular guy at school, getting prom king and all that shit. You have heard your brother complaining about him on the phone sometimes, maybe to Nancy or to one of his friends. From what you’ve seen, Billy looked like a tough and irritating guy, and there is no need for you to get close to him at all, and you really could care less about what he does to your brother.

And that is basically your everyday life. Invisible, and you’re fine with that.

You’re fine. 

“Hey, can you believe that guy?” Your head snapped up to see your brother at your door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. You raised your eyebrow at him, looking back down at your book. “If he takes away my captainship in the team, I will– Dad will fucking cut my head off.” 

“That’s what you get for following his dreams from day one.” You mumble in a low tone, but he caught onto it, frowning at you.

“I have my own dreams. I don’t follow his.” You nodded at that while still not looking at him. You really could care two shits about all of this. 

“Maybe Nancy can help you with this kinda stuff. I'm busy.” You heard shuffling at the door and then a sigh. You heard steps and you raised your head to hear him slam his door shut, and you knew he was probably getting ready to go to a party or something because of the music he started playing on his radio. Not once you were invited to one of those, not even by your own brother. He had hosted parties before, and you were commanded to stay in your room all night. The only time you came out of your room was to the bathroom to pee, and even then you had to wait because people were always making out inside. 

You got up from bed, closed the biology book to then set it on your desk, looking over to your library of VHS’s tilting your head to check what to watch tonight. You picked Terms of Endearment and Sixteen Candles. Your collection was full of romance and dramatic movies because it’s just your favorite genre to watch. Same with your books, your favorite being Sense & Sensibility. 

Steve left after a few minutes, and you made your way down to start your Friday movie night, and tomorrow will be the same, next weekend too. You should get more movies, you are on a roll of rewatching stuff by now. But it was at this moment, when you put the cassette into your player, and you finally sat down and started watching Sixteen Candles that it all simply fell apart.

Your rough facade crumbles down as you see the romance of the characters on screen, the friendship that is displayed in these movies, late calls with friends, kicking your feet because the guy you liked kissed you, or even called you to spend time with you. You stare absentmindedly at the screen as you see the kissing scene finally happening and your fingertips brush over your lips, just softly, tracing the shape of them.

After a few hours Steve finally returns home, completely sober and cursing under his breath. He sees the light of the living room turned on and some blue light shining on. He walked inside to find you asleep on the couch with the TV still on. He sighed, walking over to turn it off but then his eyes looked at your form, making his face completely fall down.

He bent over your figure to see the dried tears on your cheeks, falling down onto the couch. He looked over to the coffee table to look at what you were watching, getting hold of the case. You watch the same movie every Friday night… And every Saturday night. He rubbed his mouth with a frown to his face as he looked back at your frame. And he always repeats the same action every Friday night and every Saturday night.

He stands up to grab the blanket that’s over the couch to put it over your body, and with tears in his eyes he bends over to press a soft kiss at the top of your head with a quiet whisper that he always repeats and that you never hear, not that you would believe him anyway.

“I’m sorry.”

Monday came way faster than you expected, and the morning was even quicker. Your parents were still away on their business trip, but Steve and you knew they were just out on vacation by themselves. Why have children when you just push them aside? 

You take out the lunch bag with your sandwiches in it, and you walk out of the school doors and into the football field which was deserted because it was lunch time, so it always gave you the best opportunity to head behind the bleachers to have some peaceful time for yourself, and that was until you almost dropped your bag as you screamed and flinched when you saw someone already there who snapped his head back at you.

Billy Hargrove.

Your breathing was heavy and your eyes were still trying to focus from the scare but as soon as they did you realized that Billy’s eyes were filled with tears, one or two might have escaped because you could see the glistening trail that they left behind on his cheeks. You were trying to talk to him, but then his eyebrows furrowed together, a tight angry look on his face.

“The fuck you looking at Harrington?” You flinched back at that, annoyance switching inside of you instead of fear. This guy was crying and has the audacity to sound threatening?

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just seeing Billy Hargrove actually having feelings is a sight.” His eyes snapped wide at your response, surprise crossing his features while he stared at you this time. “Who’s staring now?”

“Oh, right, sorry, it’s just that hearing you fucking talk for once is a sight.” You were taken aback by his response, mimicking yours. You sucked on your right cheek in annoyance as he wiped his cheeks away.

“Well, off you go.” He snaps his head at you, a frown on his features to then letting a smirk spread on his lips.

“I came here first. You go.” You scoff at that, shaking your head at him.

“No, I always come here at lunchtime, it’s my place.” 

“Well, that’s lonely as fuck.” You know that. You fucking know that, he doesn’t need to say it to your face, not the heartthrob of the school. Before your heart could turn in pain you nod at him.

“Fine, take it for today.” You turn to finally walk away. Maybe you can eat at the picnic table in the forest? But sometimes the stoner would go there to deal, and you weren’t judging Munson really, you gotta do what you gotta do to survive. 

“Wait.” You stopped on your tracks and slowly turned around to see Billy slumping down on the ground, his back resting against a column of the bleachers while he rested his forearms on his bent knees. “You can stay here if you don’t tell anyone you saw me like this.” 

Who would you even tell this to? He might be scared that you would tell Steve about it, but Billy seems to not know you don’t actually have a good relationship with your brother, and you have just one casual friend in this school. You look in between the bleachers and towards the woods and then you look back at Billy, giving a sigh and finally sitting down with your legs crossed. 

It was silent between you two, almost uncomfortable but not quite. You were eating your sandwich and you took out a bottle of water out of your bag too. You glanced once at him, and he was looking at the distance, just breathing slowly. You wanted to know what happened to him, because he didn’t seem like the guy that would cry easily. He looked at you, raising an eyebrow up at you.

“Why do you eat here?” He asks and you clear your throat, taking a sip of your water.

“Why were you crying?” 

“Touché.” You gave a nod in understanding. You weren’t going to talk to him if he wasn’t going to talk to you. You looked inside your bag to grab onto the other sandwich, and you handed it to him. He looked at it with a frown and then back at you.

“If you’re here it means you didn’t eat. Basketball players need food.” You calmly say to him and he looks down at the sandwich, taking it from your hands, and then taking a bite out of it, grimacing in disgust.

“What the fuck is in this?” He looks down into it and you smirk at him, finishing off your own.

“Mustard and pickle sandwich.”

He ate the sandwich anyway. It was nice to eat lunch with someone for once, even if that person was Billy Hargrove and it would be a one time thing in your life… Though, it wasn’t. Billy was back behind the bleachers almost everyday after that. He wasn’t at all that persona that he was with everyone else with you. The cocky insufferable bastard you knew was all a mask, and you could see it when he told you about how Tammy Thompson tried to hide a fart with her cough in class.

“You’re fucking kidding…” You were giggling, covering your mouth as you both sat in front of one another, and the closeness slowly shrinking as two weeks went by of eating lunch with him.

“I am not, she actually thought it was discreet, but I heard it. Not that I said anything about it, but it was a total boner killer.” You raised an eyebrow at that, swallowing your apple that you were having as dessert.

“What, girls can’t fart Hargrove?” He rolls his eyes at you and then raises his hand to flick your forehead, making you wince and rub the skin he left in a red state.

“I didn’t say that. When you trust someone enough to do it in their face, sure. Not in the middle of class, and much less when you are a chair in front of mine.” At that you let out a laugh, throwing your head back. He chuckled and took a swig of his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side so it wouldn’t hit your face.

“God, I really don’t pay attention to shit like that.” You took another bite of your apple and Billy was still looking at you, clearing his throat, making you look up at him.

“What do you do on Friday nights? I mean, your brother is at every single party but you are nowhere to be found.” He asks you and you feel your cheeks flush slightly at that. You look down at your apple and swallow your bite.

“I often watch movies. Have my own movie nights, sometimes with popcorn, and if I am feeling fancy, S’mores.” You gave him a small smile as you took another sip of water but Billy was still looking at you with a frown to his eyebrows.

“By yourself?” And you suddenly felt embarrassment washing over you. How pathetic were you? He is a guy that has every student in this school eating at the palm of his hand, plans of going out somewhere almost everyday, a date every single night, and you just watched movies and read books for company.

“I– I have to go.” You suddenly blurt out, standing up abruptly to then wipe your jeans from the dirt of the floor. Billy was following suit, doing the same thing, and about to stop you, but you were already walking away. You didn’t need the reminder of how stupid all of your life sounded. You didn’t need it from him. You were always reminded of it by your father, saying that you should be more like his son. Your mother says that at her age she already dated someone and had tons of friends. Steve showing off his new relationship and friends to you, keeping you in the shadows from everyone.

You didn’t need more reminders.

So when you got home, and realized Steve was already out of sight, probably at Heather’s party, you took your time to shower, put on some comfy sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a gray hoodie, and you grabbed your movies and went downstairs. Maybe they will cheer you up from all the stuff that has happened with Billy today. It’s stupid, you both don’t talk to each other all day, yet at lunch you just talk non-stop.

Sweet popcorn was today’s choice and you were already salivating at the smell of it all. Once it was done you put it in a bowl and headed over to the living room, turning the TV on, and putting Pretty in Pink in your VHS. Steve must be getting drunk with his friends by now, dancing to Roxette or something like that. You popped a single popcorn in your mouth and you were about to press play but you were interrupted when glass knocking was heard from the sliding door to the garden.

You jumped up in fear, eyes widened as you quickly turned your head and saw Billy fucking Hargrove outside the doors. You blinked once, twice, three times. Wasn’t he at Heather’s party too? You stood up from your seat, blushing at your attire but he already saw you in it, no time to actually go change. You fixed your glasses at the bridge of your nose as you walked towards the doors to finally unlock them and open a side for him.

“What the fuck are you doing here Billy!” You almost screamed at him, but he raised his hands up in a surrender mode and chuckled at you.

“By that yelling I am assuming your parents are still gone. Let me in, I’m fucking freezing.” He walks past you and you scoff at the nerve of this man. You close the door and you see him looking around with his hands inside his black leather jacket. Your eyes trailed downwards for a second, taking in how tight his pants were, but you snapped out of it, walking around him so that you were facing him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask again and he simply shrugs, still looking all around your house. 

“Party was lame as shit, and you said there was a movie night here tonight. That seemed far more interesting than Tommy trying to do a keg stand and falling onto it, breaking his nose.” He walks to the couch, sitting down on it and he immediately grabs the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. Your mouth hangs open again at this, going to the couch and sitting down next to him.

“You– I don’t need your pity.” You say to him, looking down at your hands as you played with the hem of the sleeves of your hoodie. He chuckles at that and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, I don’t pity anyone. The party was really fucking boring.” He takes a popcorn in his mouth and he hums at the sweetness. You raise an eyebrow to look at him. You never thought Billy Hargrove would be on the sweet side of stuff. “So, what are we watching?”

A smirk formed on your lips. He was gonna fucking hate it, that’s what he gets for barging in your house.

Yet–

“I fucking hated Duckie.” You were wide eyed at him. He had paid complete attention to the movie, even giving small commentary that he really liked the fact that the girl stood up for herself. He turns to look at you, a frown coming to his eyebrows. “What?” 

“I just… I didn’t think you like this genre of movies.” You reply to him, a little bit nervous for some reason and he smiles at you and then looks back at the screen.

“I never watched one of these. They have a lot of plot, and they’re interesting.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement and you grabbed his shoulder, which made him look at you alarmingly.

“You’re in for a ride.”

Billy came back again the next day, taking the chance that Steve was out at Nancy’s for the night. He then sneaked into your room while Steve slept and you played Grease on your small TV and VHS that were on top of your dresser. He actually enjoyed it, but despised it because it was a musical. The next time, he actually came through the front door, and you both finally watched Sixteen Candles together. Now, Saturday Night, Steve was at Nancy’s for a family dinner and Billy was taking out two beers from the six pack he came with.

“I don’t drink…” You say to him and he raises an eyebrow up at you. 

“Daily or weekly, but you have tried alcohol. One beer is not going to kill you Sweetheart.” You nodded at that and you grabbed onto the can, sitting back down on the couch. You opened it as Billy walked towards you and plopped down with a huff, already taking a swig out of his can. You grimaced at yours and you took a tentative sip, lowering the can to look at him, completely disgusted by the taste and he simply threw his head back in laughter.

“Disgusting.” You say to him and he shrugs at you, sending a smile your way.

“It’s an acquired taste baby, you just keep drinking it, if you feel fuzzy you can leave it.” You felt your heart accelerate at him, feeling the butterflies exploding in your stomach. You didn’t know when your relationship with Billy took a turn for the better, but he actually sends a smile your way this time when walking down the halls, he sometimes greets you when you pass by him in the hallways, like he is not making it seem like he doesn’t know you.

So it was hard not to fall for him. It was undeniable at this point, and even if he was strong and mean, and an ultimate bully to everyone else, he comes here to your house, watches romantic comedies with you, eats popcorn with you, and you two talk about nonsense all evening. Nobody knows about this, and you’re happy to have this secret between the two of you. You can live in the fantasy a little bit longer.

“What did you bring?” You look at the cassette he got and you look at the front of it. You grimaced again and showed it to him. “The terminator?” 

“Classic sweetheart, it’s an action movie, you gotta expand your movie knowledge a bit.” You didn’t want to complain, it was the first time Billy suggested to watch something he likes, and in reality you were interested in knowing it, and hopefully like it the way he does.

News flash, you didn’t like it.

“Why are there so many guns?! It's unnecessary!” You complain, your beer gone and you do feel a little fuzzy but not too much. You just felt giddy. He laughed at your side and shook his head as he drank his second can.

“That’s what action movies are, baby, they are irrational, little to nothing of plot, and shooting everywhere.” He says and you sigh at that, shaking your head. The room filled with silence as Billy looked forward, his smile slowly disappearing. “You know why I come here often?”

You straightened at that, blinked with confusion as you turned to look at him. You frowned when you saw how serious he got, just out of nowhere, and your belly turned for him, not in a romantic way, but more of a worry kind of nervousness. 

“Because parties now bore you?” You ask him and he gives you one chuckle and then shakes his head, resting it on the backrest of the couch, looking at the ceiling.

“You help me distract myself.” He took a deep breath in as you kept looking at him and you knew it was something he was having a hard time talking about. “The day you saw me crying… I was actually afraid.” 

“What?”

“My father… Let’s just say he has– a rough hand. Any slip up I make, I just get a punch out of it… I’m just so angry all the time, so unlike my fucking self and who I actually am when I am at school. I just let out my anger towards people, because I cannot take it out on my own father.” You could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and you knew he was trying to choke back tears as he talked. Your heart just knotted at seeing him like this, feeling helpless, not knowing what to actually tell him.

“Billy–”

“And you… I tried to be mean to you… And you actually had the guts that no one had at this school yet. Talk back to me.” His head turned to finally look at you again and your eyes burned at his confession. “I couldn’t be mean to you… With you I can— I can be calm, watch a movie, talk about how creepy that Creel house is and how we should sabotage it– I mean, the only thing I talk with the people from school? Chicks, sex, cars, alcohol.” 

You couldn’t help the small smile that appeared on your lips, turning your whole body to face him, your legs coming to rest on top of the couch too, bending them and resting your side on the backrest. 

“Well, I am glad I could help in some way… My house is always open for you Billy.” His eyes were just staring into yours now, the only thing being heard in the room were your breaths, until he finally talked.

“Can I kiss you?” 

What?

There is no possible way you heard that from him. This is a dream, it has to be a dream. There is no way Billy Hargrove, your now friend, your crush, the guy you like has asked to actually kiss you. This only happens in movies, in books, and it never happens in real life, at least, not to you. 

“W-Why would you want to kiss me?” And Billy’s features turned into saddened ones at your words. Don’t you realize how beautiful you are? He straightened up on the couch, his body turning to face you as well as both of your hearts jumped out of your chest.

“Why wouldn’t I want to kiss you?” was his short answer. Your belly turned in pure nervousness now as your body grew a cold sweat. You never kissed anyone, and Billy seemed to know how to do it, and you were just too inexperienced. A flush came over all of your body as you fixed the glasses on the bridge of your nose and you looked down to avoid his gaze.

“I– I never–” You gulped, not being able to finish the phrase from how stupid it sounded. A warm hand was pressed on your cheek, making you lift your head up to look at him again, and you didn’t realize how close he got to you, his blue eyes staring into yours.

“I ask you again… Can I kiss you?” And you finally give him a nod. You weren’t going to miss this chance, not for one second. He still wants to kiss you despite you not knowing what you were getting yourself into. He smiled at you and grabbed onto your glasses, pulling them off your face and setting them on the coffee table. “They were just going to get in the way.” 

You took a shaky breath in, his hand still on your cheek as he slowly leaned down towards you. You closed your eyes and his remained open to remember your features as he finally does what he has been wanting to do for the past weeks. At first it was a simple attraction of course, but he knew it was more than that, and he was scared as shit about it… But he never wanted someone as much as he’s been wanting you.

His lips connected with yours in a soft peck, brief, and you let a breath go out of your lips, only for another peck to land. Then another, then another that lingered there a bit more, and then the next one he just stayed there, and suddenly started moving his lips, guiding you as your heartbeat made you deaf in your ears. How do people do this and not faint at the spot?

The lip smacking was heard in the room as your hands finally were brave enough to travel, one scanning his bicep, the other one moving towards the back of his neck, feeling his skin under your fingertips. His free hand landed on your waist, not pressing too hard so that you know that he is being mindful of you. At this point, Billy would already be inside someone, satisfying his needs, but with you… He wasn’t going to do that, at least not now, not yet, and that is if you let him. 

He wants to take care of you.

He pulled away for a second, his lips touching yours still as your breathing mixed with one another’s in soft pants. You were feeling as if you were burning all over, not knowing what was happening with you. You never felt like this before, and maybe it has to do with the fact that not only was Billy good looking, but you also feel more than just friendship for him.

“You okay?” You nod frantically at him, wanting more, giving him a peck on the lips making him chuckle in a low tone. “Sorry baby, but I need more.” 

He suddenly pushed you back on the couch, crawling over you and you didn’t even think, you just wrapped your arms around his shoulders, and he kept his bottom half away from yours, even if it pained him on his thighs from the strength he was doing to keep himself up. His lips connected with yours again, rougher this time, more desperate, the kiss suddenly turning into a very heated one as he suddenly licks your bottom lip a few times.

The butterflies in your belly explode as you open your mouth and his tongue finally slides in. You gasp at the feeling, your hands finding his biceps through his blouse, and you felt his chain hitting your neck at every movement. One hand was still gripping on your waist, while the other remained at your nape, pulling you deeper into the kiss. 

You really can’t believe this is happening, not to you, not with Billy, it doesn’t make sense that he looked your way, it doesn’t make sense that he actually wants to kiss you, not when he has Heather on his tail all the time, or Carol even if she is dating Tommy. Or Janet. You always hear them talking about him in the bathroom, always planning their move on him, and this feels you with a sense of power, with a sense of accomplishment and pride in yourself. 

Your hands ran through his hair and he groaned into the kiss, and that ignited so many things inside of you that you never felt in your life, and you wanted to hear more of it. Billy was trying his best to keep himself in a hovering position with you, but he was finding it harder and harder to do so. He can’t go on, at least not today when it was your first kiss. He didn’t want to scare you, even if your urges were the same as his, because he could feel your need to pull him even closer.

The door suddenly clicked and both of your eyes snapped wide open, pulling away, looking at one another, panting heavily. Best scenario, it's your parents, and they would be thrilled that you actually, and finally, have someone over at your house… Now, worst case scenario–

“What the ACTUAL FUCK?!” You both sat up on the couch to look over at Steve, who was standing there in the living room, wide eyed, and his face reddened bit by bit. Shit.

“Steve–” You started talking but he raised his hand at you, to then point a finger at Billy.

“Get the fuck off my sister.” You wanted to roll your eyes at this, because why is he acting all protective now? You finally got some action in your fucking life and he wants to take it away from you.

“I don’t think she wants me to leave.” Billy dares to say, glaring at your brother who took a look at the coffee table, seeing the cans of beer. His mind started racing, and Billy followed his gaze, his mouth opening to talk but Steve was running up the stairs already. Your eyes widened and you pushed Billy off, standing up quickly and urging him to do the same.

“You have to leave!” You were trying to push Billy towards the front door but his feet were still planted against the floor with a frown to his face, and your head snapped to the stairs to see Steve running back down with his baseball bat in his hands. Billy’s eyes widen when Steve starts to approach him with a swinging motion.

“Taking fucking advantage of my sister is something I won’t take from you Hargrove, so get the fuck out of my house before I crush your skull in!” 

“Shit, Harrington– Fucking listen for a second–” Steve’s baseball bat hits the backrest of the couch, and you could see the dent of the wooden under it that he created. Billy ripped himself off you and gave you a look as if asking if you were okay.

“I’ll talk to him, you go.” You tell him and he gulps, looking back at Steve with a threatening look on his face which Steve only scoffed at.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Billy says with a small squeeze to your hand as he walks out of the house, passing by Steve. Your brother follows him to the front door and he doesn’t walk back inside until Billy drives away with his Camaro. After the roaring engine can be heard in the distance, Steve slams the door shut, throwing the bat at the floor and stomping back into the living room where you were standing there with a glare on your eyes as if you were about to kill him.

“When I saw his fucking car out in front of the house I thought it was a stupid coincidence, and I come in here to see you about to have sex with the sluttiest man in the goddamn school! What are you thinking!?” You frown in anger at that, stepping towards him.

“I am his friend! I wasn’t going to have sex with him, and he wasn’t taking fucking advantage of me! I drank ONE beer, ONE!” You yell back at him and he fake laughs as he runs his hand over his face.

“The first time you have a guy in this house, and it is Billy FUCKING Hargrove. The one guy that I am fighting with for Captain at our basketball team, the one guy that gives me the hardest fucking time of my life at the moment, and you want me to just accept that he wants to be with you because he WANTS TO?” Your chest hurt at those words, your own coming out in soft stutters at Steve’s blind rage.

“He even asked me if I wanted to, and I said yes–”

“God, you cannot be this fucking stupid! He hates me, makes my life a living hell, and you seriously think that he is a nice guy!? You really think there is no ulterior motive!?” He yelled at you and his words were stabbing you in every part of your body, your head already spinning from how harsh he was being with you.

“Why? Is it impossible that he actually wants to be with me?” You try to say loudly at him, even if your fingers start to feel numb. He scoffed at that, looking at you.

“Yes, and I don’t think you are dumb enough to not see that.” He was referring to so many other things, and it was regarding Billy’s persona, in Billy’s actions, in his rivalry with him… And when he saw your tear rolling down your face, his anger evaporated as if water was being thrown at him.

“Okay…” Was your defeated response. You turned around to retrieve your glasses from your coffee table and Steve winced, clenching his eyes tightly together as pain rushed through his body. 

“That wasn’t what I meant– Hey, listen to me, I really didn’t mean it to sound like that–” But you weren’t listening, putting the cassettes back into their cases and turning off the TV. You grabbed them and walked past him, going up into your room. Steve stood there, knowing he hurt you once again, not knowing what to do but run a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he started pacing back and forth.

He didn’t mean it to sound like no guy would want you, he didn’t mean it at all like that, yet the words coming out of his mouth betrayed him, completely. He doesn’t know how to make it up to you, because if he had given you the chance to go to the parties with him when you asked in your freshman year, many times, and told you yes instead of no, you would have more experiences, you might even have friends. If only he had let you come out of your room at his own parties when you asked him, almost begged him to let you participate, but he declined each time. Then in your sophomore year, you didn’t ask anymore, just accepted that he wasn’t going to tell you anymore about them, and you automatically locked the door whenever he hosted a party. 

This year, he tried to invite you, many times. You always declined. You didn’t even want to eat dinner with him, and he knows you want to leave the house as soon as possible thanks to him. Even with your parents. For the past two years he had been so blind because of his father’s approval and the one of all the students in Hawkins High that he didn’t notice how your parents didn’t ask you stuff at dinner. All questions were always directed to him. He noticed this year, and he tried to tell them you had nailed your exams, and the only thing you got from your father was ‘As she should.’

He was the cause of who you were now. Not at all the bubbly and animated girl that asked him to raise her up like an airplane in their backyard, not at all the small girl that put makeup on him pretending she was a stylist, not at all the middle school girl that got excited to see him whenever she got home from school to tell him about what she learned that day. 

He walked up the stairs and raised his hand to knock on your door, only to hear soft sobs on the other side, muffled. He wonders if you had also cried when he denied you all those times. He doesn’t know how to even make it up to you. He doesn’t know if he even can. 

So the next day, when you didn’t come out of your room, he let you have your alone time. Now on Monday he tried knocking on your door, only to receive the notice that you felt sick. He tried walking in but your door was completely locked. His eyebrows twitched and his mind had come up with a plan. A plan he will terribly hate. A plan that might end up badly for him. But it’s what he deserves for what he did to you. 

Billy looked everywhere for you, and even asked Barbara Holland where you could be. She told him that she hadn’t seen her at Science that day either, so his best guess was that you had skipped school. His jaw clenched when he asked other people about you and some of them didn’t even know what you looked like. He waited for the bell to ring, and he was going to tumble Steve down if he had to in order to see you. He didn’t care.

But when he walked out of the school doors to rush to his Camaro, he was surprised to see Steve Harrington sitting on his trunk with his arms crossed. Billy’s eyes hardened at the sight, walking towards him, tilting his head in question at the brown haired boy who was looking at Billy with a mix of emotions behind his eyes.

“Harrington. Get off my fucking car.” He says and Steve gulps as he looks to the side.

“I fucked up.” At that Billy’s eyebrows turned into a frown, but his fists started clenching as Steve kept talking, telling him everything, everything he did to you, and what he had said to you that night when Billy left. 

While this was happening, you were combing your hair after the shower you took while sitting on your bed. You had taken a shower because you were greasy from yesterday already, and you really didn't want to get up, but you didn’t have a choice. Ever since Steve said that, you didn’t have the guts to actually call Billy because at some far away place in your mind, it made sense. 

You were invisible, and suddenly you were noticed? It doesn’t sound real. 

So maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it really was to get into your pants to mess with your brother, and that was honestly the most reasonable explanation for it. You frowned when you heard the door open downstairs, your door was left open so you could hear some drawers being open, to then hear steps coming up the stairs. Your eyes widened when you saw Steve slamming himself against the door frame of your room.

His eye was completely inflamed from a punch received to the face, his nose was bleeding and he was holding some ice covered in a rug to soak the blood in it. From what you could see, his lip was busted as well and his breathing was coming out of his mouth, almost in a pant.

“Steve, what happened?” Even in your hatred for him, seeing him this way made your heart fill with worry, pushing all of the other feelings aside. You were about to rise from the bed until Steve raised his hand up at you.

“I deserved it.” He looked towards the hallway and your eyes widened when you saw Billy coming into view, a pack of frozen peas on his right hand, his eyes glaring at Steve as he passed by him and into your room. His eyes turned to yours and you couldn’t help but look up at him, completely stunned. Steve groans and closes the door for you two as he heads downstairs. 

“What… Did you…?” You stutter as you sit back on your bed, seeing Billy’s injured hand as he sat on your bed too, nodding as he looked at you.

“I sure as hell did. Fucker deserved it. He told me everything, from the very beginning, and also what he said to you on Saturday night right after I left.” You feel your face flush with embarrassment and you look down at your hands again. You are not understanding what is going on, nor why Steve would go and tell your life story to Billy. “Though I have to say… Your brother does care for you.” You scoff at that.

“Right. Like he cared for me the past two years.” You reply with venom in your voice and you feel Billy scoot closer to you.

“He knows. He knows what he did to you. Your freshman year was the punch on the eye, your sophomore year was on his lip… And what he said on Saturday was the one on the nose.” He lets out a chuckle and you feel mixed emotions to that. You were happy that he defended your honor, but Steve was still your brother and you didn’t want physical harm to come to him.

“Don’t punch him again… Please.” You slowly looked up at Billy and his blue eyes were already looking at you. Your heart rate picked up the longer he stared at you.

“Do you really believe what he said to you that night?” He asks you, a small worried tone behind his voice. You feel yourself gulp and you look away in embarrassment or nervousness, you no longer know.

“I– After years of feeling this way, it was a very possible scenario.” You say to him in a low voice, your fingers playing with each other. You see him put the bag of peas away, and his hands look for yours. You look down to see his right hand completely bruised up, some skin completely chipped off on his knuckles. You gasp at that and his hold gets stronger on you, making you look up at him. He was closer now, making your breathing get stuck in your throat. 

“How can I prove to you that I want you? How can I prove to you that I like you, that I like you very much that I drive myself insane with this fucking feeling, because god knows I am not good with relationships…” For the first time you see a blush come to his cheeks, and his gaze looks down at your connected hands, like how you do when you get nervous. “But I wanna try that with you.” 

Your heart leapt out of your mouth almost, not truly believing what was happening, but the bruised knuckles made it more real, the blush on his cheeks made you realize it was no dream at all. This man in front of you wants you, despite it all, and you both have so many broken pieces to pick up inside one another, but you figure that you can help each other. You can mend his heart back, as he can mend yours.

“I think… The first step would be a date…” You say to him almost in a whisper and he chuckles as he looks up at you. He squints slightly at that as if in thought as your smile grows on your face while looking at him.

“I have an idea for it. I think they are showcasing the new Rambo movie.” He says to you with a smirk to his face and your mouth fell open at that, shaking your head.

“I am not watching an action movie on our first date!” He chuckles at that, his face coming closer to yours slowly, and you feel magnetized to him as you both leaned into one another. 

“Oh, I bet you prefer the one where the bad boy goes for the intelligent and perfect girl, that genre, right?” You squint at him, pretending to be offended by his words.

“Don’t act like you don’t like those movies Hargrove.” At that he chuckles, his left hand snaking to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him, a soft breath hitting your lips as he talks.

“I might have a thing for romance.” His lips touched yours again, and you smiled through the kiss, your own hands resting on the back of his head to pull him deeper into the kiss, to taste him even better. Your lips moved along with his, taking in eachother’s breaths, bodies coming closer at each second.

“Don’t fuck my sister, I draw the line there. Not today, not with me here.” You both heard Steve’s voice behind the door, making Billy groan in annoyance and pull away from you to glare at the door as the steps could be heard and another door closes down the hallway.

“I am punching him again.” Billy says and you were glaring at the door too.

“My turn.”

A/N: Well shit, I hope you enjoyed. IT TURNED OUT TO BE A ONE SHOT.

[lvrxly]

singledad!Ghost who lives next door with his little boy, he asks you to babysit constantly due to his job and constant busy schedule full of who knows what, he doesn't trust anyone else to know what his kid needs and likes since he grew up around you.

"Thanks again for this y/n, I should be back around 9pm, please try and get him to bed before then," Ghost says frantically as he passes his son over to you along with his diaper bag and favorite blanket.

He had a date scheduled tonight with a lady he met through his best friend, John MacTavish. You nod and wave Simon goodbye, shutting the door with a sigh as you put his son down and watch him run towards the corner you have filled with toys just for him. What the hell were you doing...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who has to let himself into your house at 10pm because you weren't answering the door. He got back later than expected but still, he expected you to be up. But he freezes at the door, the key still in the lock as he stares at your couch.

The door clicks open as Simon uses the key that was poorly hidden under your doormat. He's told you to change the location countless times but you don't listen, you never do. With a soft sigh he is about to speak but freezes as his eyes land on your couch.

There you laid on your back, an arm falling off the couch and a leg propped up on the back cushion, snoring lightly. That position couldn't have been that comfortable. But that's not what made him freeze. It was how his son was laying on your chest, fast asleep with his favorite blanket draped over his back. You looked as if his son was your own.

Simon has been so dumb..You had been treating his son as your own all this time, and he never saw it. He also never had seen how much he loved how you looked with his son in your arms...

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

singledad!Ghost who drops his son off with his parents for the weekend, coming over to your house with a single rose and a bottle of champagne. It's not a date, he states, more of a friends hanging out without the ruckus of a little boy running around.

"No really, you're such a big help, I honestly don't know what I'd do without you. And he loves you a lot." Simon is more soft spoken than usual as he sits at your kitchen counter, twirling the rose between his fingertips. You're frantically searching your cabinets for those champagne glasses you got all those years ago that you've never used. You swear you still had them.

"It's no biggy. He's a good kid, a joy to have around and probably one of my only friends!" You laugh, sighing after you cant find those dumbass champagne glasses and grabbing two mugs out of the cabinet instead. Not quite what you'd normally drink something like champagne out of, but it would have to work.

"So I'm not considered a friend?" Simon says with a hurt tone, taking the mug with a raised brow and a laugh. He then looks down at the mug to which it read "Male Tears" in black lettering on the front. His shoulders shake in silent laughter.

"Eh, I kinda like your son more than you, he's less broody," You tease, pouring the champagne into each of your mugs. Your mug saying "Reading is Sexy" with blue lettering. You would be lying if you said you didn't have some questionable mug choices.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

a/n: kinda wanna turn this into a fic...should I?

EDIT: FIC HAS BEEN POSTED <33

[wileys-russo]

forget me not II l.williamson x reader

forget me not II l.williamson x reader

"only me lee!" you called out, slipping out of your coat and hanging it by the door, tugging your beanie off and running a hand through your hair. you sighed happily at the much warmer temperature in the house compared to the brutal winter wind bellowing outside.

but there was nothing that could wipe the grin off of your face, having just wrapped up your final day of your degree and handing in your final thesis, you were on top of the world.

and at that moment, leah had been determined to keep you there.

"leah?" you called out for your girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing in concern when there was nothing in return, though you could smell the orange blossom throughout the house where she'd had the diffuser on, and her car had been parked right next to yours when you pulled in.

"babe?" you yelled a little louder, unwinding your scarf and slipping off your sneakers leaving them by the door, frown deepening as you wandered further and further into your home with still no sign of the blonde to be seen.

but you melted as you rounded the corner and laid eyes upon a perfectly set dining room table, takeaway from your most treasured italian restaurant plated up beautifully with a glass of champagne poured to accompany it, an expensive looking bottle sat in a bucket of ice in the middle of the table.

you could see the food was still steaming which must have meant that-

"congratulations!" you jumped almost a foot in the air at the booming voice behind you, jolting around for a split second before leah engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet and cheering.

"leah!" you laughed, clutching onto her shoulders as the defender spun you around and carefully placed you back down on the ground. "i am so so unbelievably proud of you." her hands fell either side of your face, palms rough and callous but her touch warm and comforting as you melted into it.

"hold that thought." leahs finger smooshed against your lips for a second as she let go and stepped away, disappearing for a moment but returning with a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.

"oh leah, you didn't need to do all this! i'd have been happy with a takeaway and a cheap bottle of wine." you exhaled with a soft smile, leah rolling her eyes affectionately and placing your flowers down on the table.

"only the best for the best. we can get wine drunk and have a greasy chinese any day of the week my girl, but its not every day that you graduate university with top marks, honors and three job offers!" your girlfriend reminded, shaking you proudly as you threw your head back with another laugh.

"i love you." you sighed, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around her neck, her own hands settling on your hips and drawing your body closer into hers, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as you drowned in it.

"i love you, i love our life, i love our home. and i love that i don't need to fight a big dusty stack of text books for your attention anymore!" the blonde teased as you grinned, leaning in to press a few short but sweet kisses against her lips.

"i knew that was coming." you sighed with a shake of your head, leah pulling a face and nodding, stealing another kiss and moving to pull your chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit down.

"i hate when you pull my chair out for me." you reminded as leah shrugged, pushing it in and stealing another kiss. "at restaurants, you didn't say anything about at home." leah winked taking her own seat as you rolled your eyes fondly.

"to you my love!" leah raised her glass with a beaming smile across the table, a fond grin on your own as a gentle clink sounded around the kitchen.

in that moment you felt loved and supported, as leah showered you with praise and hung off your every word as she asked you question after question about your finally completed thesis and how you were feeling.

if only you'd known it wouldn't last.

~

leah and you met through your cousin alessia.

the pair of you both the only girls in your immediate family and only a few months apart in age you'd grown up thick as thieves, adopting one another as the sisters you weren't given, both instead having older brothers.

you only grew closer as the years flew by, you making your way across the world to visit her when she was in college in america and the two of you vacationing together time and time again in italy with your families.

when alessia moved to manchester for football and you stayed in central london you saw less of one another, but still you did your best to make it to as many of her matches as you could, never gifted with much of a sporting ability which all three of your cousins had teased you for growing up.

you'd seen leah around in passing at the international games but never really had much to do with many of your cousins teammates bar the ones you saw more often that she played with at united or on the youth teams.

you had first been properly introduced to leah on a night out, arsenal playing united meant several of the england girls were going for dinner and given you'd gone to the game and hadn't seen alessia in well over a month she'd invited you to join them.

you hadn't interacted with leah all that much that night, spending most of your time glued to your cousins side making the most of your time with her, your exams now done for the semester you were making plans with her to go to ibiza after the season wrapped up.

but unknown to you, you'd stuck with leah a little more than she had with you.

you hadn't had anything else to do with her until a couple of weeks later, you were in between lectures and desperate for a coffee which actually tasted like coffee and not something from a gas station pod machine.

so you'd ducked out to a little cafe just down the road from the university, it was a fan favourite amongst studnets and often quite busy so you weren't surprised to see all the tables occupied and people stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting their takeaways.

you'd ordered your usual and a ham and cheese croissant to snack on along the way back, moving away from the counter to wait for your order, smiling apologetically at a blonde you'd accidentally backed up into.

you assumed that would be it, off in your own world as you started to daydream, which is why you missed the girl speak to you, only zoning in once she tapped you on the shoulder and you turned toward her with a curious frown.

"sorry, what?" you blinked realizing she'd said something and you'd missed it. "i said you look really familiar, have we met before?" the stranger asked and you let out a small puff of air in amusement. "is that supposed to be a pick up line?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the blondes eyes widened.

"no! honestly. i would never try to pick you up-" she started but with a small scoff of offence from you her eyes widened further. "no! not that i wouldn't try to pick you up at all you're not ugly, but i wouldn't do it like that?" she cringed at herself as you hummed, turning back toward the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"hey no please, i'm so sorry this is all coming out wrong." the girl huffed with a shake of her head as again you only hummed and she seemed to give it up as there was a few beats of silence.

"oh! i know. you're...someones cousin." the girl seemed to light up, seemingly quite happy with herself as you threw her a side eye. "aren't we all technically someones cousin?" you questioned still facing the counter as the girl rolled her eyes.

"well yes but i swear i've seen you somewhere before." the blonde huffed in frustration and you sagged a little in relief as your name was called.

"let me guess. in your dreams?" you chuckled, stepping forward to grab your coffee and the small paper bag, good mood returning at the overwhelming scent of the croissant which was toasted, warm and calling your name.

"look. you're not unattractive but the whole 'oh i know you!' thing? it doesn't work. really, do yourself a favor and get a new tactic!" you shook your head with a slight smile, leaving the blonde gobsmacked as you moved past her and shuffled your way out of the cafe.

only if you'd just waited another thirty seconds, you'd have heard her own coffee's called out, all under the name leah.

again a couple of months passed and the coffee shop interaction disappeared from your mind, alessia laughing about it with you a week later teasing that even if you didn't date boys you couldn't avoid shitty pick up lines.

you didn't run into leah again until the very first friendly leading up to englands home euros run where they beat belgium 3-0. you'd been sat with everyone in the family and friends section, wedged between gio and your own older brother leo. the rhyming names in which you and alessia had teased them for for years.

naturally after the game and the crowd had cleared everyone was mingling with their families, and you'd been so busy laughing at alessia's brothers taking the piss out of her for having kept count of how many times she tripped over in the game you missed a familiar blonde spot you across the room.

however you were made aware of her presence around a half an hour later as your family had started to break off into groups, all headed to a local restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate alessia and everyone being together again.

"want a lift?" alessia offered twirling her keys around on her finger as she finished saying goodbye to a few of the girls. "yes but i'd also like to arrive to dinner alive." you sighed as the girl scoffed and hit you on the shoulder.

"well i'm your last option so you can walk if you'd prefer piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed teasingly, pinching your cheek as your eyes narrowed and you shoved her taller form away.

"alessia. you promised you'd stop calling me that." "i did, but i've changed my mind now. it brings nonna so much joy...i'd like to also feel that joy." "would you also like to feel my fist against your cheek?" "aw you're so cute, piccoli ravioli!"

"i hate you." you sighed in defeat unable to muster the energy for a proper comeback as your cousin only grinned and waved goodbye to mary over your shoulder.

exchanging goodbyes with ella and promising you'd come visit manchester soon you turned to follow after your cousin and her long legs which were already halfway across the room when there was a tap on your shoulder.

"you look really familiar. have we met before?"

"you." you realized quickly, eyes widening at the smug grin on the familiar blondes face who stood before you, clad in the same england tracksuit your cousin was wearing which could only mean one thing.

"you mean you're-" "yes i am, and you are someones cousin. alessia's!" the girl grinned victoriously as you winced a little at your previous interaction.

"told you it wasn't a pick up strategy." the blonde beamed even brighter, rocking back and forth on her heels and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"well you could have just asked!" you rolled your eyes at her smugness. "i did and you bit my head off!" the blonde huffed in defense. "i mean directly. like 'oh i think you might be related to someone i play football with'." you mocked in an attempt at her accent.

"i don't talk like that!" "thats what you took away from that?"

"well i didn't want to freak you out." the girl rolled her eyes as you snickered. "and how well did that go? i've been calling you coffee shop creeper when i tell that story, and let me tell you it gets some laughs!" your voice dripped with sarcasm but that just seemed to cause her lips to curl up into a more prominent smile.

"well then you're welcome for the ice breaker, maybe now you'll have some more success reading cues of when someone is trying to chat you up or just asking a curious question. not everyone wants to date you right off the bat, sorry for the let down." the blonde pouted though the sarcasm was obvious in her own tone.

"leah." your own response was cut short as the girl held out her hand, grin still plastered on her face and damp hair pushed to one side of your head as you sized her up for a second before sighing and exchanging your own name.

the interaction was paused as alessia yelled out for you, gesturing from the door and tapping her wrist making you scoff given she was one to talk forever the last to show up at any family event and notoriously known her lateness.

"well leah, i'm glad we cleared this up. good game!" you smiled sincerely for the first time and leah felt her stomach flip as you turned to head over to your cousin.

"wait! can i get your number?" you glanced back in surprise to the blonde who shrugged at your raised eyebrow. "only following your advice and asking directly!" leah teased with a smirk that you couldn't lie and say wasn't a little endearing.

"fine, but just so you know i will be saving your contact as coffee shop creeper."

~

years down the track and the coffee shop creeper charm had won you over, you were very happily in a long term relationship and a few months ago had taken the next step of moving in together.

with alessia now living in london too it meant the pair of you were near inseparable much to both leahs delight and frustration that your cousin loved to invite herself over, often interrupting date night.

you'd been by leahs side throughout her injury, sticking by her through the highs and lows, the lashing out, the icing out, the apologies and the crying and eventually, the peace and the healing.

you'd be lying if you said that despite how clearly proud of her you were, you missed having leah around as much now she was medically cleared and back fit and fighting for her beloved arsenal.

date nights were often forgotten, leah hanging back in the gym to do some extra work or to meet one on one with the physios ensuring her recovery was still right on track.

despite your own studies you made sure to be at every single game each weekend if leah was playing or not. but when she used to greet you afterwards with a bear hug and a sneaky kiss, whisking the pair of you away back home for a night of takeaway and horrendously cheesy rom coms, had disappeared as she instead spent time looking back on game footage with the head defensive coach or watching at home on her own ipad, normally requesting some space to do so.

but as always, you knew what this meant to her. football wasn't just leah's passion it was her life, and you wouldn't be the person to stand in the way of her achieving everything she wanted to and more, you were always her biggest cheerleader.

there was an international camp coming up and you knew that was her next goal, her focus narrowed down to have her name on that squad list her sole vision for the next few weeks, and of course as usual you'd been nothing but supportive of her.

but you had your own milestones incoming, your own goals to lock in on and finalizing your thesis was one of the last. leah had of course showered you with praise and attention and affection that night and you felt like things had started to slip back where they left off.

but then a few days later and again you were left sat at the dining room table alone on date night, reading a book and looking longingly over to the door awaiting the jingle of your lovers keys in its lock, but by the time it came you were long asleep in bed, leahs dinner left wrapped in cling film in the fridge, untouched and discarded by you that next morning.

as much as you put on a brave face, there was always someone who saw through any attempt at a wall you threw up for your own defense, and that was your cousin.

it had taken a little bit of clever reverse psychology and a mountain of carbs in the form of your favorite pasta dish but eventually alessia had you opening up about feelings you'd pushed down and down and down.

having known you longer and family meaning everything to alessia you knew the blonde would take your side, not that there was even an argument or 'sides' to be taken at all. but also always level headed and your go to for advice your entire life you took on board what she had to say.

she encouraged you to open up to leah and talk everything out, urging that the older girl was clearly head over heels for you and likely didn't even realise her actions were making you feel like this.

alessia cautioned that the longer you let these feelings sit the bigger chance they could begin to turn into resentment, to fester away and become much more negative, eating away at you piece by piece, the more likely that leah would continue on forward blindly, unaware of your feelings of neglect and you could both wind up hurt.

you wished you'd listened to her.

finally a week later your final hurdle arrived, your graduation.

given it was quite the extensive class you'd been apart of you only had a small handful of tickets to extend, but of course your cousin and your girlfriend had received their invitations weeks ago.

alessia had taken you out shopping a few days ago to find a dress, leah very kindly offering to come but you could see the slight grimace on her face at the thought and dismissed it with a smile, thanking her with a soft kiss for offering.

you needed to arrive earlier than your family, so alessia had texted leah the night before offering to pick her up and carpool. your girlfriend however assumed the blonde had meant a lift to training that next morning and declined, advising she would make her own way.

you'd also of course spoken about your nerves for tomorrow, leah only half listening as she studied the training footage she'd requested on her ipad, assuring everything would be fine and kissing your forehead as you hummed and settled down in bed beside her.

you were used to falling asleep first, back turned to your girlfriend as her fingers drummed away against her screen, wishing for nothing more than the nights where leah would be pressed up against you.

where she was present, involved, attentive. but again you chose not to mention it, afraid she'd take your feelings of neglect for neediness and the voices in your head warned it would mean your blonde lover would pull away even further out of reach.

it wasn't unusual for you to be up and gone when leah woke for trainings some mornings, the early bird out of the pair of you you often loved a morning run to clear your head, having long given up trying to convince your sleep loving bed hogging girlfriend to join you.

so she thought nothing of it when the time ticked by and still you hadn't returned, chalking it up to you maybe going for breakfast afterwards with a friend.

if she'd been paying attention when she raced out to her car, piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and her shoes in hand she might have noted your car was gone too.

leah was so wrapped up in training preparing for this weeks game, knowing sarina would be there to watch, she hadn't even tweaked your cousins absence, missing the flittering conversations that alessia had a family commitment.

never having her phone on her during training, leah was surprised to check it after showering to see an abundance of missed calls, messages and facetime attempts from a handful of different people.

"what the fuck?" the blonde mumbled, muttering her goodbyes to her teammates as she made her way quickly out of colney and sat down in her car, deciding to just start from the last missed call she had which was from her mum.

the girl couldn't even get a word in to ask what had happened before amanda was speaking, exhaling in relief at her daughters contact popping up on her phone.

“finally! I understand you might not have been allowed your phone for a face time during the ceremony but you better have some photos and videos to send me." amanda laughed, leahs frown only deepening but again she couldn't get a word in.

"god i bet she looked beautiful, she's such a gorgeous girl i've always said that! but now with a doctorate. oh leah did you cry? i bet your brother you'd cry!" amanda laughed as leah opened and closed her mouth in confusion.

"sorry, mum what are you on about?" leah finally managed to speak, a brief pause of silence on the other end. "fine so you didn't cry! you are a softie though bubba you can't deny me that. but i'm with your grandma so send me some photos at least to show her!" amanda encouraged as leahs eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry i'm a bit lost here. photos of what mum?” "the graduation of course, what else?" "whose graduation? you're not making any sense."

there was a few beats of silence, amanda having moved away for a moment to somewhere a bit more private.

"leah if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.” her mum warned seriously, tone shifting as leah scoffed. "of course its not a joke! i don't know what you're on about with this gradua-" but the words died in her mouth as finally things seemed to click.

"oh no no no fucking hell please no!” leah panicked, putting the phone down on her centre console as her chest tightened and her heart began to race.

"leah catherine williamson. please tell me you didn't forget your own girlfriends graduation ceremony." amanda spoke much more quietly, disbelief evident in her voice as leah fumbled around, knowing it was in here somewhere.

then she found it, the invitation.

you'd both been in the car when you'd shown it to her, leah having picked you up from a friends house where you'd had a few too many drinks for her to want you in an uber, smiling in amusement as you toddled your way down the driveway to her.

she hadn't seen you all day but the moment she'd gotten you safely in the car you'd presented her with the small slip of paper, leah's eyes widening in pride for a moment before her lips were showering every inch of your face in kisses as you'd laughed and shoved her off.

but the melodic sound of your laughter was a stark comparison to the stuffy horrendous silence which filled her car now as leah stared in both horror and disgust at the date on the paper clenched tightly in her fist.

"mum i need to go."

[rafeandonlyrafe]

girls night

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, teasing, p in v sex, semi public sex, a bit of exhibitionism, unprotected sex, clingy!rafe, established relationship

“so the girls are coming over-”

“mhm…”

“so if you want to watch a movie upstairs, or maybe see if top can hang out?” you suggest, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“hm, no.” rafe shakes his head, keeping his ass planted in the middle of the couch.

“no? it's just that we're gonna watch like a romcom and drink wine and gossip-”

“i can do all that too.” rafe shrugs.

“but do you really want to?” you question.

“no, but i don't want to be away from you. so you'll just have to put up with me.” rafe reaches his hand out, pulling you onto his lap.

“how long until they get here?” he questions, one hand wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest while his other hand ventures to your ass, gripping it over your pajama shorts.

it takes you a moment to remember what rafe asked you. “hayley will probably be here in like ten minutes.” 

“enough time to make out.” rafe smirks at you before connecting your lips. the minutes pass by as he holds you tight against him, mouth dominating yours until you're suddenly interrupted by the doorbell sounding out.

“shit.” you whine, legs a bit shaky and weak as you stand, rushing to let hayley in who also brought your two other friends steph and tina.

“hi girlies!” you hug each of them before moving deeper into the house. “i hope you don't mind rafey joining us.”

“no problem.” hayley shrugs. she knows the most how clingy rafe can be, and how much you love it.

“pick a movie.” you toss the remote at tina. “ill get the wine!”

you bring back glasses and two bottles under your arms, one red and one white. you pour yourself some before looking to rafe.

“ill share with you.” he smiles, not a huge fan of wine himself, so if he's going to drink it, it's going to be from the same glass as you.

“okay, i know we've all seen it before but ive really been wanting to rewatch 10 things i hate about you.” tina says as she hits play on the movie.

“oh, yes!” you squeal, sitting down next to rafe. tina is on the farthest cushion of the spot away from you while hayley and steph have taken up the armchairs.

you lean into rafe, only occasionally reaching forward to sip your wine. 

you're watching the movie when rafe ducks his head, pressing light kisses to the shell of your ear before moving lower, kissing along your jawline and neck.

“rafe…” you whisper, hand moving to grip his thigh as he pays extra attention to the spot he knows you're sensitive at.

“want you so bad.” rafe whispers, not stopping the kisses despite your hand tightening it's grip on his leg.

“and i want to enjoy girls night.” you turn to rafe so your friends don't pick up on wait your saying. “after. you know i want you to, but not when we have guests over.”

“fine, ill stop.” rafe huffs, leaning back against the couch, pulling you further into him to make up for not kissing you.

rafes focus shifts to the movie to distract him, his hand randomly petting over different parts of your body until another idea sparks in his head.

his hand drifts further up, thumb swiping over the bottom of your breast, keeping his movements slow and casual like they're not calculated as he moves up until he's cupping your chest, thumb swiping directly over your nipple.

your eyes closed the second rafe touched your breast, concentrating on not moaning out and turning the groups attention towards you.

hayley lets out a laugh at a scene and it has you jolting back to reality. you grab rafes hand and lower it back to your waist.

“come on.” rafe growls in your ear.

you ignore him as something in the movie reminds steph of an ex boyfriend as she launches into a rant about him, the same one you've all heard a million times, yet you're still happy to hear again, to make the same comments about how much of a dick he is.

rafe leans forward, slipping his arm from around you as he grabs a blanket from the basket you pulled to the center of the room for the girls.

“anyone else cold?”

tina raises her hand so rafe tosses a fluffy blanket in her direction before draping a bigger one over both of your laps, covering you up to the waist.

“i know what you're doing.” you whisper, turning to rafe and pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

��and do you want me to stop?” rafe asks. he already knows the answer to the question. as much as you feign not wanting to do anything until your friends leave, you find rafe just as irresistible.

it's why you don't really fight it when rafes hand disappears underneath the blanket. you even spread your legs for him, allowing his hand to cup your pussy over the cover of your shorts and underwear.

“you want to kill me.” you whisper-hiss into rafes ear, subtly covering your mouth in case you let any sounds slip.

“just can't resist that pussy, baby.” rafe presses kisses into your hair as you attempt to focus on the movie, rafes hand staying mysteriously still.

you become impatient, waiting for the inevitable, so you reach over, placing your hand on rafes thigh, slowly moving it upwards, teasing him by swiping your hand back down whenever you get close to his crotch.

rafe moves suddenly, standing up and letting the blanket fall away as he scoops you into his arms. “be right back, ladies.”

he rushes out of the room, not leaving you any other option as he presses you against his body.

“oh my god, rafe!” you squeal as he pushes you into the nearest private room, which happens to be your guest bathroom.

“i need you right now, fuck.” rafe tugs your pajamas down, revealing that you're only wearing a small thong.

“you could wait another like half hour? the movie was almost done!” you allow rafe to press your front into the wall, bending forward to stick your ass out.

“nope.” rafe opens up his shorts to pull his cock out, already hard from your teasing.

“ridiculous.” you roll your eyes, but its accompanied with a giggle. you love how rafe can never get enough of you, how his love and borderline obsession is clear to everyone.

“says the one dripping for my cock.” rafe chuckles, swiping the head of his cock through your folds before pressing against your entrance, pushing in with one quick motion.

“oh fuck!” you squeal before covering your mouth, remembering your friends aren't too far away, although they definitely know what's going on, you don't need them to hear it as well.

“god, you feel so good and warm.” rafe moans, immediately beginning to thrust, not wanting to take you away from your girls night for too long.

his hand wraps around your front, reaching down to rub at your clit while his other hand holds your hips steady, the slapping sound of your skin meeting together echoing around the bathroom walls.

“you're mine.” rafe huffs out, as if you need reminding.

his thrusts become wilder as the minutes pass by of him pressing into your cunt until you lose yourself to the high that rushes over your body.

rafe has to grab your hips to keep you upright as your pussy clenches around him, only a few more thrusts before rafe is spilling into you with a moan of your name.

“shit, i already want you again.” rafe laughs, pressing you into the wall as his cock finishes pulsing inside of you, needing to make sure hes filled you up as much as possible before he pulls your underwear and shorts back up.

“rafe, im gonna leak all over the couch-” you complain before he interrupts you.

“oh well.” the devious smile on his face tells all.

you pout as he gets redressed, opening the door like nothing at all happened.

“come on.” rafe holds his hand out to you, proudly walking you back into the living room.

“well, i can’t blame you for keeping rafe around all the time.” tina giggles as you retake your place on the couch, your face bright red.

“its me who needs her around all the time.” rafe smiles, pressing a kiss to the side of your head while you pull the blanket up over your face in embarrassment.

[nerdy-novelist017]

i'm so in love with your little bunny series and i'm so glad you're writing for benny! i was wondering if you could write something about reader being a yapper, always talking a lot about things with so much excite and benny finds this the most cutest thing ever, but one day someone says that she's annoying for that, which makes her feel very self conscious and she starts to think that benny might feel the same since he's a very much quiter person, and benny assures her that is not the case? just fluffy and comfort to warm my heart <3 thank you already!

Anon, this is literally the cutest request ever omg!!! Thank you for the request, I had so much fun writing this! I paired this as another one shot for my Benny x Bunny series, hope you enjoy!

Word Count- 2k+

Summary- See request above.

Sweet Talking (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader)

You pressed a kiss to Benny’s cheek, whispering to him that you’d be right back as you stood and made your way around the bonfire. You pulled Benny’s jacket tighter around you to fend off the chilly evening air on your trek back to the house. The night was still young, the sun having just set an hour ago and these bikers would be up until the sunrise, all having caught their second wind from the race held earlier in the fields. The loudness of the bikes and the sheer excitement from the crowds was something you were still trying to get used to, but you found that you actually liked talking to these people. Once they included you in their conversations and picked topics that you could relate to as well, you found yourself talking a lot more than you ever have in your life. They laughed at your jokes, they called out to you when they saw you approaching, they really seemed to just adopt you into their club. You supposed, in the beginning, a majority of that was from Benny probably intimidating some members into being nice to you, but regardless of that, they still seemed to enjoy your company and your silly stories and random facts – especially the women of this club. 

Stepping through the back door, you were immediately greeted by the scent of cigarette smoke and booze, things you were also still trying to get used to. Several members were lounging on the couch, smoking and talking as you passed them on your way to the kitchen. You went to the fridge, opening it and lowering yourself to search for a cold pop for yourself. Voices filtered into your vicinity from the adjacent dining room. Just as you grab another beer for Benny, your ears perked up when you heard your name being said in passing and you froze behind the refrigerator door. 

“–She does have a sweet piece of ass on her though,” a male voice, sounding muffled most likely by a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled to yourself, biting your lip. You probably shouldn’t be listening to this, but curiosity rooted you to your spot as you tried peeking over the door to catch a look at who was speaking. 

“Jesus Christ, you can’t get her to shut up anymore.” another voice replied, much deeper and raspier than the first. “I miss when she would just stand there shaking like a leaf, all nervous and quiet.”

“Would it even be worth it to hit that? C’mon man, she’d gab your fucking ear off during it, totally kill the mood for me.”

Your smile slowly at their words, heart sinking. You should get up and leave, you told yourself. But you couldn’t force your legs to move.

“I’d put that mouth of hers to work on something else,” the first man said, chuckling darkly. You squeezed your eyes shut at the insinuation. 

“Don’t know how Benny–boy puts up with it. I’d have to gag her just to hear myself think–”

You stand abruptly, unable to listen to anymore of their hurtful words. Using a bit more force than you intended, you slammed the fridge door shut, the glass bottles rattling harshly inside from the force. Tears stung your eyes as you rushed back through the living room to the backdoor. You paused once you rounded the side of the house, sniffing in order to keep the tears at bay. They were just drunk assholes, you tried to tell yourself. Who cares what they think of you? 

But a few traitor tears escaped your lashes at the thought of Benny finding you annoying too. Benny– that quiet, easy-spoken man who you loved with everything in you. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like how you squealed with excitement when you saw someone you knew from across the room. That quiet man who maybe didn’t like when you giggled loudly at jokes told around the bonfire. That quiet man who was your exact opposite.

******

Benny could tell there was something wrong the second you came into view again, your figure illuminated by the orange flames of the bonfire as you moved to sit back down by him. Your hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head tucked low. And beside him? It was rare that you didn’t sit on his lap anymore. 

You handed him a beer and he tried to catch your eyes because was that tears he saw coating your lashes? But you avoided his gaze, instead curling into his side and that’s how you stayed for the rest of the night, quiet as a mouse, until you eventually tugged on his sleeve and asked if you could go home. The ride home was also weird. You didn’t tap his shoulder and point to things that interested you like you normally did on the back of his bike. You stayed glued to his back, silent. 

Benny watched, brow furrowed, as you went about your nighttime routine in silence, the house you shared no longer filled with your usual chatter. He sat on the edge of the bed, wracking his brain with the possibilities of you being upset with him. (The silent treatment was often a go-to method of torture you used when Benny pissed you off) but he was at a loss. Something had to have happened when you left the bonfire. Anxiety spiked through him at the thought that maybe someone had done something to you, but no, you would have told him. He made you promise to always talk to him if someone at the club was bothering you. 

You changed into your nightgown and Benny’s heart squeezed at the sight of you avoiding his gaze once again as you turned and began brushing out your pin curls in the mirror. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asked, unable to bare another second of your silence. 

“Mh-hm.” Came your short reply.

Benny swallowed. You were definitely upset. “You seem . . . quiet.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because you’re shoulders stiffened for a moment and he thought you might turn around and throw your brush at him. But instead, you responded in a small voice, “Just tired.”

He frowned. He’d seen you when you were tired, this was something else. He tried a different tactic. “Tell me about your day, Bunny.” 

You shrugged. “Not much happened.”

“Well, tell me about it. I wanna hear it.” He tried to catch your eyes as you put the brush down and stepped away from the vanity.

“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk about it? I just want to go to bed, Benny.” you tried to move past him to go to your side of the bed but Benny reached out gently tugged on the hem of your nightgown, stopping you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, looking up at you. 

You nodded, but still refused to make eye-contact.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned. “Did someone do something to you tonight?”

You shook your head quickly and relief swept through him. “No, no. Nothing like that.”

His hands slid up to your hips and he pulled you closer to him. “Talk to me, Bunny. Please. I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

You swallowed, chin wobbling slightly. “Nothing happened . . . I just–I overheard some guys talkin’ is all.”

He remained silent and you continued hesitantly. “When I went to get a drink . . . they didn’t know I was there. And–and I should have left as soon as I heard them talking but . . .”

“What were they saying?”

You clenched your jaw and gave him a distressed look. 

He squeezed your hips encouragingly. “What were they saying?”

“It doesn’t matter–”

“It does to me,” he was quick to say. 

“They . . . they were talkin’ about how I talk . . . a lot. They said it was annoying. They were saying crude things about using my mouth for . . . other things.” you said slowly, voice wavering and you looked down in embarrassment.

Benny nodded and breathed out of his nose, counting to ten in his head to cool his suddenly white hot anger which bloomed in his chest. He had worked so hard to get you to feel comfortable around the club, to get you to come out of your shell and now someone had something to say about his girl—his sweet shy girl—talking? “Who was it?”

“Oh, Benny–” You pulled back from him. “Don’t go saying anything to them!”

“Why not?” He planned to do much more than talk to them.

“Because!” you cried, your voice going an octave higher. “That would make it worse! Besides, they’re–they’re right anyway.”

“Right about what?” he asked, bewildered at how they could possibly know you like he did.

“Well, I do talk a lot. A–and I know it can be annoying for someone who’s a lot more quiet.” 

“Annoying?” He laughed at the inaccuracy of that statement and you must have thought he was laughing at you because you took a big step back from him, out of his reach.

“I just don’t want to embarrass you,” you murmured, looking down at the carpet below you. 

Benny’s stomach fluttered apprehensively. There had been only a few times in his life where he wished he was better at talking, at communicating his feelings. He wanted to console you, to reassure you, that you could never be annoying or embarrassing to him. He wanted to tell you just how much you gave him purpose and helped him in his life. How you were his life. This was one of those times. 

He rose from the bed and approached you passively, trying to gather his thoughts. “I like when you talk. When we spend the day apart, I look forward to hearing about your day and what you did and what you saw while I was gone. And when we’re riding and you point to the little things like the flowers on the sidewalk or the sunsets, I like that. I really like that. And when you tell stories, you get so immersed and you start talking with your hands, I like that too. You’re so friendly to everyone, no matter what they look like or how well you know them and that’s one of my favorite things about you. You talkin’ could never embarrass me, Bunny, because it’s one of the reasons I love you.”

Tears welled up in your doe-eyes and he swallowed nervously. “Why are you crying?”

Suddenly, you were pressed so tightly to his chest, face burying into his shirt, hands holding onto him with such grip that Benny stumbled. He recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around your small frame.

“Oh, Benny,” you choked up. “You’re so sweet!” 

He wasn’t so sure about that, maybe only when it came to you. He sure as hell wasn’t going to be so sweet to those guys that spoke about you like that. He’d take a trip tomorrow to visit them personally, but for tonight, he belonged to you. He’d discovered that about himself from your relationship, from you. Even though he wanted to do things right when he wanted to, he couldn’t always. That’s what love was, putting others’ needs before your own. And tonight, you needed him, so he would be here.

His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head back to press a kiss to your forehead. “Will you come lay with me and tell me about your day?”

You nod, sniffing and Benny nearly melted at the smile you gave him. That was the smile he’d come to recognize as the one you had reserved for only him. Soft, sweet and totally perfect in every way. He pulled you gently back to bed and relished as you curled up against him. His heart was filled with warmth as he listened to you chatter on about your day and your friends and your thoughts, anything that came to mind. He’d ask questions every once in a while to keep you going, but he mostly stayed quiet, because to him, you were so captivating and cute. You both talked throughout the night, you slowly getting lower and lower into his side until finally falling asleep, your conversation temporarily paused until the morning.

-Tag List-

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[ripcupid]

FOCUS

“I can’t wait ‘till we chill, what you wanna do?”

- you left Price with the kids as you went on date, the date couldn’t be bad right?

୨୧ ex husband! price x reader

୨୧ word count: 2.6k 😨

୨୧ yes the title is a nct 127 reference! (If you even know who they are) also sorry for being gone for 4 months 🤭

“John, can you come pick me up?” You shiver in the cool night air, pressing your phone to your ear as you hold yourself.

“Was he that bad?” Price snickers on the other side of the phone, “I told ya, love,” he chuckles making you roll your eyes at the pet name.

“Shut up,” you huff, annoyance lacing your tone mixed with a hint of amusement. “Just hurry… please.”

“Alright, alright I’m comin’.” Price hangs up the phone, leaving you to wait in the cold a little longer before his car pulls up in front of you.

You find yourself smiling as you stare at Price's hands gripping the steering wheel, dropping your smile as he glances over at you, a sly grin spreading across his face. “I see ya looking, love,” he teases, looking from the corner of his eyes over at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, feeling a warmth in your chest at his teasing. "Just drive, John," you say, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. You turn in your seat to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks, grateful for the darkness of the car. 

Price chuckles softly, the sound making your heart flutter as he drives the familiar route to your home. As you get out of the car, Price leans over the console, his eyes trailing over your body before locking with yours. "You gonna let me come in?" he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, "you know, say goodnight to my kids?"

"Fine, but just for a minute," you reply, trying to sound stern but failing. You feel his gaze lingering on you as Price follows you through to the front door and up to your twin's room.

You lean against the door frame, watching as he bends down to kiss your sleeping son goodnight, a warmth spreading through your chest at the sight of him being a dad all over again, remembering all the times like this before the divorce. He moves over to your daughter's bed and tucks her in tighter, whispering a soft goodnight.

"Are you staying for breakfast?" your daughter mumbles, looking up at Price with sleepy eyes. He looks down at her with a soft smile, "I don’t know, Ya gotta ask your mom first, sweetheart." Your daughter looks over at you with hopeful eyes, silently asking for permission.

"Of course, daddy can stay for breakfast, " you say with a smile as your daughter's face lights up with joy, "but you gotta go to sleep now." Price nods in agreement, giving the twins a final goodnight kiss before quietly leaving the room with you.

You walk him back downstairs, heading to the kitchen to grab two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. As you pour the drinks, Price leans against the counter, staring at you with a loving gaze. "What, John?" you ask, noticing the look in his eyes.

"Nothing, love, just looking," he replies, making your face heat up with a blush that you try to hide by turning back to the drinks.

"Don't call me that," you say under your breath, handing him a glass. "I'm not your wife anymore." Price takes the glass from you, a grin spreading across his face.

"Oh come on, what, you don't like it anymore? I thought you loved it when I called you that," he teases, taking a sip of his whiskey. You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the memories that flood back at his words.

"Yeah, when we were married" you mutter, taking a sip of your drink and avoiding his gaze as you stand across from him. Price chuckles, setting his glass down on the counter. He steps closer to you, holding your cheek gently in his hand. You wanna push him away but you can't help the familiar warmth that spreads through you as he cradles your face. He lifts your chin, locking eyes with you.

His thumb traces your lips softly, a gesture that still makes your heart race despite the months you've been apart. He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against yours causing your breathing to hitch in your throat. The familiar smell of his cologne clouds around you as you grab onto his shirt, bunching the fabric in your fists. "John, we can't keep doing this," you whisper in the small space between you.

"Tell me no then, and I'll stop," he responds his voice barely above a whisper. The tension between you two is palpable, but you never tell him to stop knowing that deep down, you don't want him to.

"One kiss won't hurt," you rationalize, leaning in to meet his lips with yours. The kiss is slow and passionate as he holds your face in his hand gently, letting his tongue slide against yours. As the kiss deepens, his hands roam over your back, holding you against him. You can feel yourself losing control as his hand slips under your dress, resting on the curve of your ass.

Price kneads the soft flesh with a hunger that matches his own, sending a rush of desire between your legs. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you run your fingers through his hair, tugging gently. "John, upstairs, please," you pant breathlessly between kisses.

"Ya sure?" You nod eagerly, letting him lift you effortlessly in his arms and carry you up the stairs to your bedroom. As he lays you down on your bed, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you bite down on your lip to stifle a moan. He slides down the straps of your dress, exposing your bare chest to the cool air of the room.

The anticipation builds as he kisses down the center of your chest, your back arching in response to his touch. You hold the back of his head in your hands as he moves to your tits, kissing and teasing your sensitive nipples until they harden under his touch. Your breathing quickens as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before gently sucking.

You look down at him with desire, feeling the growing ache between your legs. As he continues to suck your tits, you push your hips up against him, silently begging for more. Price moves to the other nipple, giving it the same attention as the first. His hands move slowly down your sides, tracing every curve of your body as he buries his face in your chest.

You moan softly as Price releases your nipple with a pop, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he sits up to look down at you. "Look at you, love," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "So fucking beautiful." He pulls the rest of your dress off, revealing your naked body underneath before moving to your heels and slowly removing them, placing gentle kisses on each of your ankles as he does so.

You watch in anticipation as he spreads your legs apart, a smirk playing on his lips as he sees the growing damp spot on your panties. "No one's been taking care of my girl, huh?" He teases, sliding his hands up your thighs until they reach the edge of your panties. You shake your head, unable to form words as his fingers brush against the damp fabric, making you gasp softly.

"I gotcha now, don't worry," he whispers, his voice low and husky as he slowly slides your panties off, leaving you completely exposed to him. You sit up to stare down at him as he positions himself between your legs, his warm breath teasing your inner thighs. Price places a kiss on your aching clit, pushing your thighs to your chest to give him better access.

"Missed this pretty pussy of yours," he murmurs, looking up at you, making you shy away from his intense gaze. Your breath hitches as he leans in, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up your slit before he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently. Your hands instinctively reach for his head, your fingers tangling in his hair as you moan softly, grinding your hips against his face.

Price pulls back, replacing his mouth with his fingers, slowly sliding them inside you as he watches your reactions closely, a smug smile playing on his lips. "You taste so good," he grunts, his voice low and rough. His tongue presses against your clit, flicking and teasing the sensitive bud until you're squirming and arching your back in pleasure, unable to contain your moans. "Shh, the kids are asleep," he whispers, his fingers moving faster inside you, his other hand gripping your hip tightly. "Can't -fuck, you feel so good," you moan, trying to reach for his hand.

"You wanna hold my hand, love?" he chuckles when you nod, intertwining his fingers with yours as his fingers curl inside you in just the right way to make you gasp. You cover your mouth with your free hand, trying to muffle your moans as Price returns to your clit, sucking and licking the bud with the same fervor as his fingers. Your hips sputter and buck against his face as you feel the heat building in your core, his touch driving you closer to the edge with each movement.

"I'm gonna cum, John, please, baby, don't stop," you whimper, your voice shaky with need. Price lets go of your hand, reaching up to knead your tits, teasing your nipples as he continues his ministrations. As you feel the tension in your body reaching its peak, you clamp your hand over your mouth to stifle the loud moans threatening to escape.

"That's it, love, come for me," he murmurs against your cunt. Your hips arch off the bed as you finally reach your climax, reaching for his hand for support as you desperately ride out the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Price holds your hips tightly as you shudder and gasp, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

You lay limp under him, panting softly as he presses gentle kisses along your inner thighs before kissing his way back up your body. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your lips, kissing him slowly and deeply, tasting yourself on his lips.

Price's hands roam over your body, cupping your tits, eliciting soft moans from your lips as he brushes over your sensitive nipples. You continue to kiss him passionately, trying to get his shirt off, eager to feel his bare skin against yours.

Price breaks away from the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he quickly removes his shirt, revealing his toned chest. You chew on your bottom lip as he moves to his pants, pulling them down just enough to reveal his cock straining against his boxers.

Your breath hitches at the sight, anticipation building as he pulls himself free from his boxers, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. He wraps a hand around himself, stroking slowly as he watches your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Don't look so surprised," he groans, tightening his hand around his cock, "I know you can take it, love." You spread your legs wider, eager for him to fill you as you feel the heat pooling between your legs again.

You reach down to touch yourself, moaning softly as you match his rhythm, the anticipation of him inside you driving you wild. "I want you inside me, please," you whimper, your voice barely audible over the sound of his heavy breathing.

Price pulls you closer, pushing your legs further apart as he positions himself at your entrance, whispering, "Keep 'em open for me, okay?” You nod, eagerly waiting as his cock teases your wetness before finally sliding inside you. His eyes stay fixed on your cunt as he slowly slides deeper into you.

You sit up to watch as he slowly starts to thrust in and out, a whiny moan escaping your lips as you watch him disappear into you. The feeling of him stretching you out makes your jaw go slack, your hands gripping the sheets as you look up at him, feeling every inch of him filling you up completely. "Is this good?" Price asks, leaning over you, his eyes focused on your face as he starts to move inside you with a slow and steady rhythm.

"Oh my -fuck, yes," you manage to gasp out. You cling to Price desperately, your nails digging into his biceps as you meet his thrusts with your movements. Price holds your face gently in his hands, his eyes locked with yours as he whispers, "You feel so good, baby -god your body was fucking made for me."

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he lazily plants soft kisses along your collarbone. You hold onto him tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin and the weight of his body against yours.

The room is filled with the sound of heavy breathing and your soft quiet moans as his cock slowly brings you to the edge once again. Price pants heavily against your ear, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate as he drives you both toward release. The soft sound of his name escaping your lips in a breathless plea only spurs him on even further, his hand gripping your hips possessively as he speeds up his thrusts, determined to have you come around his cock.

His eyes are locked on yours, filled with love and desire as he watches you unravel beneath him. You lean up to capture his lips in a hungry, passionate kiss, moaning against his mouth as your clit bumps against his pelvis with each thrust. Your body curls into his, your nails digging into his back as you feel the pressure building in your core. "I'm gonna come," you gasp, feeling the tension in your body reaching its peak.

"I know, love, me too," he grunts with a chuckle. Price's movements become more urgent as he feels your gummy walls spasm around him, pushing him closer to his own release as he helps you ride out your orgasm, his own release not far behind. He holds you close, grunting in your ear as he begs to come inside you.

"Please, let me come inside you," he pleads, his voice strained with desire. You nod slowly, still dazed from the intensity of your climax, feeling his thrusts becoming more desperate and sloppy as he reaches his peak. As he finally releases inside you, you whimper softly in response to the overwhelming sensation of him filling you up.

Price collapses on top of you, both of you breathing heavily before he rolls off to the side, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead gently. "This is the last time, John," you mutter, tracing lazy patterns on his stomach with your fingertips. Price chuckles softly, making you look up at him. "You said that last time, love," he teases, causing you to pull away to face him.

"I mean it this time," you insist, getting up from the bed and grabbing your clothes. "We can't keep doing this," you say, walking to your bathroom. Price watches you through the open doorway as you turn on the shower. "Can I at least shower with you?" he asks with a sly grin as he gets up from your bed, tucking himself back into his boxers.

You look at him where he stands in your doorway, a mixture of frustration and desire evident in your eyes. "Fine, but this is the last time," you say with a sigh, unable to resist him as he follows you into the bathroom. Price's grin widens as he follows you into the shower, knowing he has once again won you over once again.

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[avocado-writing]

Hey, I love your writing and I just saw Deadpool and Wolverine and fuck it was good!

Could I request a Dp x W x reader smut where Logan goes into rut? If not that’s totally fine, but I figured it doesn’t hurt to ask

@saradika did an amazing Logan rut fic here, you really ought to go and read it if you like this kinda thing!

3.2k words. smut. minors dni

vaguely sub!Logan (he deserves to be taken care of); handjob (logan receiving); p in v sex (Logan giving, reader receiving); p in a sex (Wade giving, Logan receiving); knotting; fluff

It’s been a long day.

Logan is tired in a way he’s unused to being tired, at least for several years now - the kind where he’s worked himself to exhaustion after a hard day on the job. It’s not been easy, trying to build himself a new life from the ground up, make amends for how he was and attempt to be a good man again, but at least he’s got a pretty solid foundation beneath him: you and Wade.

He spots the two of you waiting outside the local bodega, finds himself rolling his eyes but smiling when Wade makes a big show of waving to him. Ahh. You two. He’s not quite sure where he fits in with your relationship, but you’ve both made it clear he’s welcome there. The three of you don’t go through something like what happened in the Void and come out without some pretty soul-deep bonds. And it’s… nice. It’s new.

Nothing too much has transpired yet, at least physically. The two of you are happy to pepper him in kisses but, so far, he’s gently turned down every invitation to join you in the bedroom. Not that he doesn’t want to. Fuck, he wants to. But he’s an old man now, a recovering drunk, and he has some… concerns about how well he’d be able to keep up. Doesn’t wanna humiliate himself between the two of you. So for now, he’s content to just be in a pile with you both when you’re watching a movie at night, held and caressed.

“Hey sugartits,” says Wade with a grin when he’s within earshot, “how was our hard-working man’s day at the testosterone factory?”

“Fine. Pretty fuckin’ tiring,” he confesses. He’s working manual labour at the moment, long days at a construction site, getting himself back into the shape he used to be. It’s good to feel like he’s doing something active and he’s making an okay paycheck too. You press a cool soda into his hand, a glass bottle, and he looks around before using his claws to pop the lid off. It’s refreshing as he gulps it down and he’s glad for it - no more booze. Not any more. He’s trying to be better and the two of you are either side of him to help get there.

“We got sandwiches for dinner, hope that’s okay,” you say, holding up a plastic bag. He breathes in the warm smell of the foil-wrapped food and…

… and he catches something else, too.

Something sweet, heady. It’s oozing off of you and Wade in waves. Catches in the back of his throat as he starts scenting the air properly. Oh fuck. 

His nostrils flare.

The two of you smell delicious.

And, for the first time in years, he can feel something begin to boil in his stomach, thick like molasses, the urge to mate.

Just lile that, he’s going into a rut.

“Logan, you okay?” you ask, noticing his shift in demeanour and reaching out to place a hand on his bicep. It’s like you’re made of static electricity, shooting a current all the way through him - and that’s just over his sleeve. God knows how he’d survive if it was skin-to-skin. He has to strangle a moan in his mouth before it can escape and incriminate him.

“Mmm. Not feeling so hot. Want to get home.”

You and Wade exchange a concerned look, but you know when not to push - and you stop Wade from doing so, too. He limits himself to an, “okay Peanut, keep your secrets I guess…” and leaves it there.

Logan makes himself hang behind as the two of you start the wander back to the apartment, tangling your fingers together and speaking in hushed tones. If he was in the state of mind to care more he’d try to listen in. He isn’t. The only thing he can concentrate on is trying not to get a semi in the street.

He thought he was over this. Thought that age and years of alcohol had grinded down that particular biological impulse. He’d sort of forgotten what it was like, actually, the urge to fuck so bad that part of his brain was worried it’d kill him if he didn’t. 

But then again, until now, he hasn’t had you both, has he? People who cared about him again. People who loved him. People who made it clear they’d look after him, whatever way he needed you to.

Fuck. Fuck. He needs to get home now.

It’s agony, the two of you walking in front of him. You both smell fucking amazing. There’s a soft, perfumey, light scent rolling off you; Wade’s slightly headier, nearly cloying. Together it is the most amazing combination he’s ever known. He digs his fingernails into the meat of his palm to steady himself until they bleed and heal, bleed and heal, bleed and heal - over and over. At least the pain is distracting.

When you open the door to the apartment he shoulders past you both and heads straight into the bedroom, attempting to slam the pathetic plywood door behind him and gruffly telling you not to follow. He can’t have you see him like this: animalistic, desperate, feral. So needy that it’s fucking humiliating. He needs to have something touching his dick, now.

He slumps down on the bed, hands fumbling at how quickly he tries to rid himself of his jeans. Fuck he wishes he hadn’t worn a belt this morning, just wasting time, getting in the way… he slices it off instead, flinging it to the side of the room where it hits the wall and lands on the shared washing basket. Three sets of clothes share that space like you share this one: yours, his, Wade’s. What a mixture. Fuck. For a moment he considers burying his face in it, smelling your combination and fucking himself to completion on the scent of home. At least he has the strength to resist that.

His cock is leaking when he pulls it out. Red, thick, pulsing in his hand as he wraps his fingers around it. Logan growls out a little noise of pleasure as he starts to work himself. He finds his hips bucking up pathetically into his own grasp but he knows it isn’t enough: if he’s going into a rut he’s going to need someone to help him through it. Look at him. Fucking pitiful old man jerking himself off because he has no control over his own body. What sort of partner would he make for you both?

“Logan, we just wanted to check you’re… oh.”

And then there you both are. In the doorway, eyes open and very much fixed on what he’s doing to himself. He can see the way Wade’s pupils dilate, how you lick your lips at the sight of his cock. 

“I mean, you could have told us you needed to bust one o–” you elbow Wade in the ribs, wiping the grin off of his face.

“Logan, honey,” you whisper, voice syrupy sweet. Oh shit. Another wave of pre dribbles down his knuckles and he hears Wade suck in a breath. “Do you need us to help?”

He can only grit his teeth and nod. He’d do anything to feel another set of hands on him right now.

Instead, he feels two.

Wade sits down on his right, you on his left. He doesn’t expect Wade to kiss him but he’s not exactly complaining about it either, not when the mercenary’s tongue swipes across his and it tastes so good. Your lips attach to the sweet spot of skin between his earlobe and his jaw and start to bite. Logan moans into Wade’s mouth as you nibble on him, tracing his pulse with your teeth.

When Wade pulls back it’s only to catch the back of your head and press your mouth to Logan’s too with a gravelly, “your turn.” Without debate you take over, kissing him softly but passionately, moaning against his lips. Your hand bumps against his, encouraging him to move it, and he does so dutifully - and it’s him moaning when you wrap around his cock.

“Fuck, look at that. Hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I used to subscribe to a lot of OnlyFans,” Wade murmurs, and Logan nearly yelps when he feels your hand get heavier on him. He glances down to see Wade has wrapped his fingers around yours so that you can both jerk him off at the same time. Fuck. Fuck. 

“Is this good?” you breathe, eyes wide. Logan can only groan and nod, and then suddenly he’s coming - a train to his guts, trickling down over both of you and choking out an amalgamation of your names. 

He feels you pull back, then hears you whisper “oh fuck” when he’s still hard.

“I told you!” Wade hisses. “I told you I thought he could go for multiple rounds!”

You press your fingers into his mouth to shut him up, making him lick Logan’s spend off your knuckles. He does so with surprising obedience. 

“‘S a biological thing,” Logan says through gritted teeth, still aware he’s throbbing even though he’s just had an orgasm, “gotta be inside someone to make it calm down.”

Your eyes widen. You and Wade look at each other.

“Do… do you have a preference?” you ask, voice low. He shakes his head.

“No. It’ll probably end up bein’ both of you by the end of the night.”

From the way the two of you light up, it’s as if he’s just announced that Christmas has come early. He watches, dumbstruck, as the two of you slap your fists into your palms, the same ones who just gave him the first non self-eked orgasm in years, and say in unison:

“Rock-paper-scissors-shoot!”

Your paper covers Wade’s rock. You grin and he grumbles.

“Fine, I’m more of a top, anyway…”

Logan watches the two of you begin to strip properly. If he had his senses about him this is something he’d enjoy doing himself, seeing every inch of soft curve you have to offer, the strong plain of Wade’s abdomen. But all he can do is stare with need as you unveil yourselves to him, two perfect presents he’s allowed to indulge in.

Wade’s hard, you’re pretty fucking soaked as you lay down on the bed in front of him, tapping his bicep to indicate the fact he’s still wearing his flannel shirt.

“This needs to come off,” you state, authoritatively. Well, fuck. That sends a roll of electricity down Logan’s spine which he wasn’t expecting. He starts to tug at it, pulling the material over his head as Wade fiddles with his jeans.

“These too big boy,” Wade mumbles, and he lets himself be handled by the two people he knows are sincere about looking after him. Together your abandoned clothes make a mess of the bedroom and Logan feels himself throb at the idea of being at the centre of the chaos.

“C’mere,” you sigh, opening your arms to him. Logan wastes no time in accepting the invitation, moving so that he’s above you and you’re able to part your legs to make room for his bulk. Any other time, any other time, he’d want to stretch this out. Maybe eat you out for a while as Wade is forced to watch, or vice versa… but right now all he can do is thrust wildly at your folds, feeling the blunt head of his cock slide against your wetness.

“C’mon loverboy, you can do it,” Wade whispers in his ear, and suddenly a scarred hand is wrapping around his length to guide him inside of you. Logan hisses as he sinks in with one fluid motion. You suck air in through your teeth, grinning up wildly at him.

“Fuck, Logan, that’s it…”

“How does he feel, baby?” asks Wade from where he’s reaching into the side table, though Logan’s whole body is so preoccupied with being inside a warm, wet hole that he can’t in that moment fathom why.

“Fucking fantastic,” you breathe as Logan starts to fuck you properly. There’s no rhythm to it, just utter desperation, just chasing that orgasm which will relieve him of the weight and languidness in his bones. You breathe roughly, the hair on his chest scratching your tits as they bounce up and down. You throw your head back and he buries his face in your neck, where your scent is strongest, and he knows he’s gonna have to go all night at this rate.

A finger circles his hole and for a second he freezes, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Wade is lining himself up in position behind him, bottle of lube in one hand, the other teasing at his entrance. The mercenary cocks a brow.

“What, you never had someone fuck you like this before? Gimme a break, peanut. The amount of flannel and leather you wear, you’ve known you’re bisexual for a long time.”

If he had more control over his speech he’d bite something back at Wade, but right now…? Yeah. He wants Wade to fuck him like he’s fucking you.

“Go hard. I can take it,” he growls, continuing to plow down, sinking his cock impossibly deeper into your tight heat and making you squeal. He hears Wade whisper a prayer of thanks to whatever god is listening and then he presses two long, lubed fingers inside him.

It’s a strange intrusion. Logan hasn’t had someone there for a long while now. That’s not to say it isn’t good, because holy shit it feels amazing to fuck back onto Wade’s hand as he move his hips against you. Wade does as he’s been bid, stretching him open roughly and wantonly, pouring more out of the little bottle when needed to ease his access. A third finger is added and every time Logan moves back to drive further into you, he feels himself hit Wade’s knuckles. 

“Holy shit,” Wade mutters, “look at you, peanut! Taking me like a champ. You reckon I could fit my whole hand inside, or…?”

“If you don’t put your dick to good use in the next ten seconds I’m gonna rip it off,” Logan snarls, needy and ferocious. Wade doesn’t have an answer to that, instead positioning himself behind him and holding onto Logan’s hips to make him go still. You mewl at the loss of movement but it isn’t for long - Wade sinks himself balls deep inside of Logan, filling him to the brim.

“Fu-uu-uu-ck,” Wade groans, eyes rolling back, then to you: “you’re right, baby. This is pretty goddamn fantastic.”

You smile up at him from beneath both men, reaching up so you can take his hand in yours and squeeze his fingers in the solidarity of sharing a man you’ve both been fantasising about since you met him for the first time at that dingy bar.

Then Wade starts to move, and Logan loses himself.

It’s messy and uncoordinated, but fuck does it feel good to ride out his rut sandwiched between two partners. Each time Wade presses down his hips, his head hitting that spot inside that’s been neglected for decades, he’s forced to fuck into you. Your cunt makes lewd, thrilled noises as he goes, and you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to bring him closer. Your tongue swipes the hinge of his jaw and Logan moans, cradled and cared for and adored.

His second orgasm is on the horizon and, with it, a feeling in his cock he hasn’t known for a long time. One he didn’t expect to know again. As Wade dips down to start pressing kisses all over his shoulderblades, Logan moves his mouth to the shell of your ear.

“Gonna knot you,” he manages, and though you can’t be entirely sure what he means, you nod enthusiastically.

“Oh fuck. Yeah. Do it, Logan,” you breathe. Fog floods his mind as he starts chasing his release inside of you, base of his cock swelling. Wade can clearly sense that something is on the horizon and quickens his pace, the idea of all of you finishing together just too good to pass up; Logan feels him catch his elbow and manoeuvre his hand towards where your hips meet his.

“C’mon Logan, if we don’t all cum it’s no fun,” he chuckles. Logan gets the picture and moves so that he can press his callused thumb into your clit and work rough circles there. When you gasp in pleasure so hard that your eyes roll back in your head, he knows it’s working. 

Fuck. He can’t last much longer. Wade fucks down into him, the heat in his stomach builds, and then—

It’s like fireworks.

He feels his knot force its way along the straining length of his cock and you gasp and squeeze him as it locks into place inside of you. He floods you with his cum, biting down on a pillow as it rocks him to his very core, keeps moving his hand and then you’re there with him, walls fluttering as you let out a string of very colourful language. Wade’s head tips forward to rest on his back as he empties himself inside of Logan, his hot seed spilling out and dripping onto the mattress below.

The three of you collapse for a moment to catch your breaths. Then suddenly your hand is slapping his arm.

“Fucking move, you two. You’re crushing me…”

“Oop,” Wade breathes, pulling out of Logan and making him hiss with the loss of contact, but meaning that he can roll over and have you rest comfortably on top of him. You sigh, happier now, nestling your head into Logan’s chest. Wade runs his fingers over the seam where you’re connected.

“So what, this just stays like this for…?” he leaves the end of the sentence open. Logan hums, pretty fucking blissful.

“‘Bout half an hour. Not too long.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow to look at him. He can feel his cum ripple inside you obscenely, Wade’s own dripping out of his fucked-out hole. 

“You feel better now?” you breath, dropping a kiss on his pectoral.

“Yeah. Thanks. I, uh, appreciate it,” he manages. You and Wade grin at each other.

“Any time, pookie. Just remember, next time I have first dibs on that monster dong,” Wade states, slapping the side of his ass like he’s a prime piece of meat… but hey, maybe he is. Maybe he doesn’t mind so much if it’s coming from someone he cares about.

His cock twitches inside of you.

“Oh fuck, Logan, again…?”

“It lasts a few days,” he confesses. 

“A few days… I’m gonna go get the sandwiches. Well need sustenance for the road ahead,” Wade states, rushing out to the kitchen without even bothering to tug his sweatpants back on. Logan gives an affectionate chuckle and then, for a moment, it’s just you and him.

“Really,” he mutters, “thank you. Dunno what I’d have done if you two weren’t there.”

Your fingers come to tangle in his hair.

“Logan, honey. You don’t have to thank us. We love you,” you say, simply, and it stirs his heart in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time now.

Yeah. Maybe it'll take some time to say it out loud but loves you both, too.

[prael]

Touch

Kinktember Day 9: Spa

Newjeans Danielle x male reader smut

words: 7,422 Kinktember Masterlist

"My client, did you see her come in?" you ask.

"No, why? Is she famous or something?"

"Well, that would explain the secrecy, and it would also explain a woman barely twenty having cash to burn at a place like this," you whisper to the colleague who is far too jealous of how you just got requested by name because that usually means big tips for a good service.

"Did you get her name?"

"Supposed to be a secret." Your answer dissatisfies her, and she throws you a side-eye. "Okay. Okay. Danielle something... Marsh?"

"Shut up!" She hits you on the shoulder. "No fucking way. Let me take this one and you can have my next ten VIP bookings."

"Sorry, but she asked for me by name," you tell her. She mutters an obscenity under her breath. "Want to tell me what I'm getting into here?"

And then the girl spews out a jumble of ramblings about K-pop this and K-pop that—the kind of reaction that only the truly obsessed can have. Millions of views on this, charting on that, really fucking popular is the gist of it. So basically the whole planet Earth knows who this Danielle is. Well, shit. No pressure or anything. "Get in there already, do your best work and maybe get me an autograph."

A few forceful pushes out of the staff room and you find Danielle where you left her, her cleansing mask still on her face, sitting in that long white robe. You step barefoot over the soft wood, heat rising from underneath it.

As you draw near, you ask, "Miss Marsh, are we ready to begin?"

"Dani, please," her voice says from beneath the mask. It's hard not to be intimated after being hit with the fact that the woman before you is world-renowned. Though from here, she looks like any other delicate young woman. Her feet are small. Bare, tiny and arched, they hang just a few inches from the floor, and they are as perfectly still as the rest of her. "No need to be formal, I'm here to relax."

"Then let me start by offering you a drink." The bottle pops as you twist it. The label is adorned in cursive. "Bottled at source, premium mineral water." Your arm raises the bottle so she can see the brand clearly.

"Is it magical water?" There is a playful lilt in her voice, "Maybe it has some healing powers?"

"Guaranteed to nourish the soul and unclog those emotional pores," you deadpan.

The facemask stretches with Dani's wide smile, and she lightly chuckles. "That's good, laughter is good for the soul."

"Right." You pour from a height and a theatrical stream flows. When the flute is halfway, you stop the flow and pass it to her hands, which take it gently.

"What? You don't even hold the glass for me? Put it to my lips and tilt?" It's another tease, the joke stretching on her grin, but now it is her hands holding the flute, her fingers long and smooth around the stem.

"I serve, not control."

"Those don't have to always be exclusive." She laughs, and the sound makes you feel something. "But I appreciate the intention. I hear you're the best in the business."

"I'll let you be the judge, Miss Marsh. Now, allow me to remove that mask. I have raised the temperature in here to help open the pores, and I would like to begin with a facial."

"I do love a facial." Danielle smiles to herself. "And again, please, just Dani is fine."

You step over behind her, where her head tilts back against the chair, her long hair cascading below, shimmering in the moist air. Lightly, you place the tips of your fingers along her jawline, finding the edge of the mask and gently lifting it upwards. She doesn't flinch at all, and you watch the wet mask give way to her face. Even upside down, Danielle is indeed beautiful.

With her sun-kissed hair, radiant skin, and effortless, elegant beauty. She is, in summation of all her parts: perfect. The image the word calls up has always been fuzzy around the edges, an abstract idea more than a specific concrete thing, because real people aren't like this. That's what you believed until you laid eyes on her.

"You take good care of your skin, Miss—Sorry—Dani."

"Thank you," she says simply, no joke this time. Your fingers ghost over her chin and then trace to her cheekbones, moving lightly to test her texture, all so smooth.

"First, I shall cleanse away any impurities," you say and lean down to examine her face. Even when you are so close, there is nothing for your scrutiny—no visible crevice, no blemishes, despite there being not a trace of make-up. It's all-natural.

There's a light whisper on her lips, one that you barely make out, "Good luck with that."

You tilt your head as you reach over for a fresh sponge, run it under hot water until it is filled, squeeze out the excess, and slowly drag a path of heat across her forehead. As your other hand holds the sheet over her neck to catch stray water, your first-hand works in large strokes from above, rinsing her skin with each successive pass.

As you focus, she leans back into the chair, and a soft hum escapes her lips. "Feels nice already," she murmurs.

You say nothing, working her in silence. Her eyelids are closed, her lips slightly parted, and she remains so still that, if not for the sound of her breaths, she could be easily mistaken as unconscious. This silence has a tranquillity and familiarity to it, one that feels like home, and without thinking, you are smiling.

She stays just the same as you begin to exfoliate her, brushing across her face in ever-widening circles. It's with such tenderness that her cheeks take a pink tint as she grows hotter and she smiles as you rub in gentle swirls, one spot, then the next.

Time passes in silence as you finish the exfoliation and apply all manner of natural, topical lotions, toners, and peels to Dani. When her skin is primed, you press your fingers against her skin and, starting at her forehead, you massage her face to a rhythm of long, soothing strokes. You enjoy touching her, you admit, which isn't exactly right for a professional, but since you have no outward reaction from her, you assume it isn't the end of the world.

Throughout it all, she keeps her eyes shut. Over time you move around her face, applying more pressure in some spots than others. She shifts and sighs, soft exhalations of her warm breath tickling your arm, yet otherwise doesn't move an inch. Her shoulders relax against the leather of the seat. "You really know what you're doing," she says, with a smirk. You pull her skin with your fingertips, moving them in large circles as it comes to an end. Finally, you tap your fingers gently over her skin to soothe.

"Now, your body, Dani."

Her eyes crack open, but slowly. "Are we moving?"

"I'll wash your skin over there, but the massage will be in the next room. Now, I'll need you to—"

Dani doesn't let you finish your sentence before she rocks forward in her seat and pushes herself to a stand. She's facing away from you and puts her hands in front of her, then she throws the robe back off her shoulders and lets it slide off her arms to the floor in one quick motion.

"Good," she says. "I was for too hot in that thing anyway."

Of course, as a professional, you would never gasp in surprise, yet, at the sight of her ass, the muscles tight, small, and round, the curves of her waist so thin, hair over her shoulders threatening to hide her slender back and those long slim legs, you manage to just barely gulp.

Too hot, she certainly is, you want to tell her and not just in the sense that perspiration coats her skin. Tiny beads of sweat that, as your eyes crawl over her, are in the process of running downwards. This glistening on her flesh is hypnotic. The curve of her ass, the slight tilt of her hips forward, the way the base of her spine leads downward, right down to a crack between her—

Focus. You remind yourself you have a job to do.

"In the far corner. The stone pool. Please, stand by the edge." It takes a second before Dani's head bobs, and then she slinks forward, slow and catlike. Her stride, and every motion of her muscles beneath her flesh that accompanies it, are mesmerising. And with every sway of her hips, you love her tight body more.

She pauses, a foot by the edge, and looks down into the water. Steam rises and envelops her form in a pale white that hugs her curves.

"Please, step in," you say as you walk over to her side and take her hand. Now, you catch a glimpse of her profile, and her chest, small, round and perky, and as you avert your eyes to guide her down the step, you tell her, "Watch your step now, go from stone to stone until you stand in the middle just there."

"Got it," Dani says. She steps with confidence and the hot water reaches quickly above her ankles and then halfway up her calves. With each careful move down the next step she gasps, soft and light. The water splashes with her movement and then swallows her up to the upper thigh.

"Please, take a seat there, on the wide stone." You reach to help steady her as she sinks down, her knees bending as she perches down so the water is at her hips as she sits.

"I just sit?"

"Yes, Dani, and I will bathe you." You step into the pool until the hot flowing water covers your knees, and then you stand behind her. You reach for a sponge, submerge it, and watch it fill, then draw it out and over her lower back and drag a large circle across her soft skin. "How's the water? Feel okay?"

"Great. Wow." She goes quiet as you work up and down her back, long, relaxing, soothing strokes until all the tension has left her shoulders. "That's wonderful," she says.

You clean her shoulders and then down her arms, the sponge dipping under the surface, and caressing her in a movement that feels like worship. With a slow rhythm, you run the sponge over her shoulders and around her neck, and finally, reaching over her, down to her chest. She shifts back as you do, resting herself against your legs. You run it over her chest a few times before coming up again to her shoulders.

"So soft..." her voice says, almost a breathy moan, and you catch a hint of it. Maybe she realises how it sounds because she soon goes quiet. Next, you work downwards, to her tight, toned stomach. Slowly you make sure you cleanse every part of her body. All while her back rests on you and her breathing is warm and pleasant.

"Miss, I mean Dani, can you stand now? We need to get you clean." You prompt, a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure." Dani snaps out of it. She stretches and cracks her neck before rising, leaning forward for a moment. When she rises, ripples run out in all directions and your eyes drift over her ass. It looks plump, perky, perfect. Then you sponge it, giving purpose to your stare. You push it down, over her cheeks and Dani shivers.

You repeat your slow, languid movements. Wipe away any trace of imperfection from her hips and thighs and then when you make her slowly step out of the pool, you work down her bit by bit. Finally, she stands on the edge of the pool, looking down at you, towering over you in her naked glory. She presents to you her foot and you hold her ankle to steady it and clean each digit, scrubbing between the toes.

"You can take the towel, on the peg, Dani."

"You do it." Dani doesn't move at all, keeping her eyes on you, staring into your eyes and through you.

You cautiously nod and then climb from the pool. You keep eye contact and wrap the towel around her small, wet frame. In your arms, she feels so fragile. You rub her down, first her legs. Long strokes, left and right. Each, in turn, both legs. Then you bring the towel up. When you wrap it over her hip and move upwards along her torso, Dani presses herself to you.

"You really know how to put someone at ease," she mutters.

You nod silently in return, and finish drying her shoulders, down her arms, back up, and down her back. You remain stoic as the heat between you builds, and she turns around without prompting. You wrap her again and bring the towel all the way down. Then over her rear. Soft, short circular motions with your palm.

"The table in the next room, Dani. Start by lying on your front, you can use the towel on the table to cover yourself. Once I see you settled in, I'll join you."

She laughs quietly and starts her slow walk to the door. You take your own towel, drying your legs, the water has soaked into the front of your shorts from where she leant against you.

She's on the bed. The towel, provided for her decency, is in a pile on the floor.

"Dani, the towel..."

"I'm fine, I want it off. I want everything off. Is that a problem for you?" There's this undeniably confident quality to her like the universe just has to be as it is because she likes it that way.

"Not a problem," you tell her. "It does tend to get in the way."

You're close to the bed now, looking down at her, still so perfectly nude. So vulnerable and relaxed, and not a drop of shame in her eyes. She gives you a look that says she's in charge, and that she's been waiting for this, and now it's finally going to happen. And that smile is impossible to refuse. "You could join me if it helps. Make it feel more like an equal partnership."

"Miss— I—"

"I'm joking," she winks. Danielle bunches her hair by her head and turns her head to the side as she rests.

The first of your oils, imported, rich and infused, drip with a consistency thick as honey over her. You watch it roll from the top of her back and run down her spine. Its warmth makes her twitch gently.

Slowly you reach out, press your hands into her skin and drag them from top to bottom, following the oil, making sure you cover her.

She hums in delight.

With great care, you begin your work. Fingers sink in, and your thumbs feel her muscles. Stroking and rubbing, from the top of her back, your fingers coax and prod at the flesh beneath. Pressing it back and forth, at times as gentle as a summer breeze and then as hard as a hammer.

There are knots in her back, beneath the tender surface. You find them easily and work at them to relax, coax them into submission, untying the muscles until they go soft. She gasps at your touch as you release them. Her body responds to you in the sweetest ways. With the smallest of whispers, the little fluttering breaths, and with her skin taking on a pink glow.

When the last knot goes soft, she writhes in response, and a content, relaxed murmur comes out of her.

"Oh god, that's it, don't stop," she says, the first words to come from her for a while.

"You were very tight." You reach across, add a small amount of more oil and start working back upwards. One stroke at a time. Up her neck. Over her shoulders. She trembles when you go deep into her flesh and reaches out to grasp at something, anything, and finds the edge of the table, holding herself steady. Her arms now, you lift them one by one, prying them from her grip and then holding and rubbing and pulling to coax the stiffness out.

Oil over her legs, next. Slowly you run your hands over the outside and inside and rub them into her skin, kneading it into her. Danielle keeps her mouth firmly shut the whole time. No jokes. Nothing funny. You lean down to her, focusing on her thigh that refuses to let go. Bending down, you push into her. As you feel her tension drain, you are rewarded with another quiet hiss.

You place the oil upon her feet and work it into her soles with a finger, an instant trigger, she cackles as her foot recoils at your touch. "Sorry, that's a bit ticklish," she tells you, apologetically.

Her feet go still and she inhales deeply as you set back to your task, much to the quiet amusement of Danielle. It's the slowest you have ever worked on a client, with long, dragging strokes to make sure she really enjoys it. Each is careful, so careful, to pull and tease. "Keep working it all the way up, all the way up my legs," she orders, quietly. "Nice and slow. Can you do that?"

You agree.

You hear Danielle sigh as you move your hands slowly up her calf. So soft and firm at the same time as she breathes so gently. A trace of laughter, an easy smile. You work her in the same manner, up her thigh, as slow and relaxing as before, massaging deep and heavy. Danielle begins to roll her hips as you grip the flesh at the top of her thighs and dig in.

"Higher, please, just for me." Danielle makes a little hum to accompany the instruction. You obey, knowing where this is leading. You take the oil, and let it pour lightly onto the peak of her cheek, it threatens to roll away so you capture it in your palm, a firm squeeze of her rear, a spread of oily warmth. She shivers and pushes up her hips in silent encouragement.

Your hands trail along, smooth and oily, each touch brings more shivers. Her legs part slightly, a slow squirm of her hips. Your fingers glide on her tight, round cheeks; running across, back and forth as she breathes deep. You press deeper with each sweep and listen as her gasps become a little louder, and her body moves a little more. She bends her arm, reaching back, as you watch it shake. Her nails claw onto the side of the bed.

The more you tease her with your touch, the harder she grips and the more she parts her legs. You've known the perfection of her body, just by seeing it, but this feeling confirms it.

Your hand wanders with long, oily strokes as you glide up her back, tracing the curves of her slim back up, all the way to her neck. There, you hold her as you lean in. "You can turn over now. Let's work out your front," you say, and Dani nods in agreement.

She smiles, though she remains silent, slowly, with such care, turning onto her side, then twisting to face you, her face flush, eyes drowsy, her mouth agape. She rests upon her back, arms by her sides, legs flat against the bed, open, as you gaze into her eyes.

You apply the oil with long slow strokes down her stomach, feeling her as she flinches, watching the dimples at her waist appear then vanish with her body's twists, with every flexing of her muscles. When you trace up, her flat, beautiful chest, and slowly slide a finger beneath her small pert breast, Dani takes a deep, quick, raspy breath, then says, "They didn't lie when the reviews said you have the best hands in the world."

Your oil-covered thumbs graze upon her nipple, soft at first, gentle in pressure, but this becomes firmer, building and rising, faster. Round and round it swirls, and this delight sends Danielle's breath to hitches and sharp, shallow pants. As she squirms in delight, her legs twist, rubbing and clenching. Her teeth bite down on her lips. The flesh of her body glistens.

One hand reaches, down a thigh then back up, across her stomach and down the other. Repeated in pattern as the other thumb never ceases on her pert nipple. Dani's eyes go blank as your touch continues, circling, teasing, stroking and grabbing. Her body responds and you are delighted to witness every tremor and gasp as it arches. And finally, for the first time, a full-blooded moan rings free.

Your hand goes lower. Deeper into the pit of her thigh as she spreads her legs wide. You seek out the inevitable and when you reach her crotch, you watch her tense up. And when the touch slides between her pussy's folds, and against her clit, there's an immediate reaction, her body jumping as you make the slightest flick of motion with your middle finger. You lift and let a trail of oil roll down her slit and back down to her rear.

"I wasn't really joking before," she gasps. "You should be naked. It would make this whole experience better." Dani tilts her head, fixes her drowsy gaze onto you, and holds the stare for what feels like a hundred heartbeats. "Don't you think that's fair? The way things are going?"

You hold the eye contact and consider this, a sudden lump in your throat making any immediate reply a struggle. Her eyes don't move from yours. Even her chest barely heaves with her short, fast panting.

"Go on, I want you naked. I'm going to feel so, so empty otherwise..."

That's all it takes.

How could you deny her?

Your hands, still covered in the hot oil, reach for the buttons at your collar. You slip them in order from the top and release one after another. Danielle's lips twitch, and her teeth rake them to a shine. Your clothing drops to the floor. Bared. It feels so wrong, and unprofessional, yet Dani looks on and gapes with a hungry, dark delight.

"Nervous now?" Her eyebrow twitches up.

"Never," you bluff.

Danielle's mouth stays open wide, and her breaths get caught and flicker as your touch returns to the same spot as before. Gentle, light touches flutter with your fingertips, drawing the tips of your fingers back and forth, back and forth, over her clit. You watch as her eyes widen, how her legs straighten out and she starts to kick her feet with the faintest hint of frustration as you tease.

"I paid for a deep massage." She emphasises the adjective, dragging the syllable out like a whine. "This teasing is bad for my heart," she whispers.

Her arm rises, then reaches for your chest and trails its way downward. The pressure of her finger, nails lightly scratching at your skin, trailing down to the waistline and then she wraps her slender fingers around you. It's hard. Incredibly so.

"And I'll show you how generous I can be with a tip."

She licks her lips slowly and sensually as her eyes meet yours with a mischievous gleam.

You grunt, pressing down with your fingertip, and then without a second thought, push it inside of her. Danielle throws her head back in silent bliss.

"Holy shit," she mumbles in a muffled, muted moan. "Don't hold back." You circle inside her slowly with one finger, letting the oil's moisture guide you. Then, adding a second digit, you delve back into her, pushing in deep and making sure she can feel it all the way inside as the palm of your hand pushes against her crotch.

Dani rolls her head to one side as you work, staring you right in the eyes and biting down on her lip as she throbs and you press down inside of her, moving in all sorts of subtle directions that are impossible for her to guess. With that, she moans again and there's a little grunt from deep within her. Her fist twists around you and she gets bolder with her touch.

You build it into some sort of rhythm and she moves, each time, reacting so well with your own thrusts. When she's relaxed enough for it, you introduce another finger.

"I— You can— Go a little bit faster," she pleas. Stretched wider, Dani starts to grow even more restless. This time, instead of small, languid strokes, your whole hand works, fingers rubbing and swirling, thumb finding her clit to massage it with purpose, building, always building, until she is shuddering under you, every single time, tensing and twitching with every change in direction.

"Come on—more," she pleads, bucking up against your hand, so slick with arousal.

She's barely jerking your cock, not even intentionally, just the jolts through her body causing the occasional twist of her grip or slide of her palm. You let it just rest in the loose curl of her grip and focus on doing what she commands, twisting your hand, gripping and stroking, tugging in circles and holding inside. The quivering gets worse and worse. And her breath grows heavier.

You keep working her relentlessly, as she squeals a drawn-out curse. Dani nearly loses control. She grips you hard, tightens her fist around you in spasm, a pained wince on her face, as she curls her toes so hard.

"Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop." It's the only thing she says, no jokes, no banter, as her eyes roll back, mouth agape as if the wind's been knocked from her, and a final, body-length spasm overtakes her. Her whole body. Back arched off the table, eyes pinched shut. It lasts for the longest time, almost impossible to sustain, you watch with an odd mix of terror and wonder. Her hair is a mess. Her naked, stretched-out limbs, glisten in the warm light.

It takes her a good half minute to fall back down, her lungs now sucking in the air as if there were none at all. One leg quivers. Her breaths slow, her eyes open again and you're holding her stare, her cheeks a faint scarlet, strands of hair plastered across her forehead.

More oil. More rubbing. From tension to relaxation again. Slowly she softens and you turn her whole body limp beneath your hands. All while you barely manage to hold yourself back from ravishing her. She keeps her eyes fixed upon you, so you force a smile, ignoring the ache clenched in her fist. You could kiss those lips, right now. Taste them. How soft and smooth would she feel pressed against you? What noises would come out of her?

You'd be forgiven for letting your imagination run wild with desire, but not forgiven for taking this service in any direction that Danielle didn't command.

She watches your thoughts as they float by, and seems to be considering the same. Then she smirks, and just with a look, reassures you that it's going to happen, and it's going to happen just exactly the way she wants it.

You're working your slick hands over her midriff, and have been for a minute or two, waiting for instruction. You work slightly up her body, perilously close to taking some initiative, but then she speaks, "That was... unexpected."

"Was it? Seemed to be your plan all along."

"Planned to tease. Planned to be touched. But did not expect it to be that good." She shakes her head softly, her cheek touching her shoulder as she stares with a fuzzy, dreamy look that is impossible to decipher. She has a cute, beautiful way of pouting her lips that's fascinating, you're struck still, hypnotised by the sight and the motion. "A few more would be perfect."

"You have me booked for another hour, and the client gets what the client wants."

Dani laughs. A light, melodious chime. "I know what I want," she tells you, gently rocking her palm over your cock. "I'm incredibly hard to fully satisfy, you better get to work."

Dani releases you from her grasp, and turns back over to her front, stretching out once more and looking back at you over her shoulder, holding a stare as she parts her legs. This stare could kill a man if his heart were too weak, and though your heartbeat quickens, your mind focuses on your purpose.

Your hands glide over her oil-coated thighs, wet and glistening. Dani rests her head back down and you are unable to stop your gaze from wandering along her spine, the gentle dimple above her ass, the two tight round cheeks below and the line bisecting between them. Up over her ass, you caress, then you slip and stroke in the valley, this, she clearly enjoys, judging from how her butt rises to greet your touch, her hips rolling once more.

Lower now. Lower and lower, until once again, your finger meets her lower lips and she hisses an inwards breath and tenses. Her body is so reactive to every touch. It makes this so easy, so rewarding, so deeply arousing. You are confident you can build her up, high, and crash her down in waves, for hours, until the sun breaks.

Two fingers again, to begin, that same twist and swirl to coax her towards delirium. Her quiet huffs and suppressed moans fill the air. With a heavy push, you dive in deeper, to watch as her whole body, muscle by muscle, starts to become lost in the sensation. And when you curl your fingers down and grind the heel of your hand over her clit, Dani absolutely loses it. She bites the sheets, body tight, hands trying to grab the far edge of the bed to give something to hold onto.

Her feet kick uselessly and a series of incomprehensible phrases fill her breath and break apart on the way out of her. Though you don't quite understand them, you grasp the meaning. This is what she wants you to do right now, to see how high you can bring her.

Her whole body starts trembling again. Tingling, quivering, shivering. It's one constant shake and her moans are louder, and longer. She struggles to breathe out a scream. Sweat begins to mix in the oil, and she lets out another unintelligible mess of words as you pull away. Dani collapses back into a quivering heap, gasping for air and stretching her hands out as if reaching out to the void, reaching out, grasping for something in the dark.

She lies there, spent, breathing deep. Her entire body is hot and burning as her muscles relax. Each breath is a moan, and her thighs clamp tightly together as if the feeling of nothing after being so worked up is torturous to endure.

Your fingers are soaked in her creamy fluids, it drips down onto the bed below. Yet somehow, this isn't over. No. There's a single goal, right in the back of your mind, that's never stopped clawing. If only you could taste her. Sink your face between her firm ass cheeks and tease her with your tongue and suck and devour her, the entirety of her.

Maybe you could ask. Or maybe you could just start kissing her lower back, your nose rubbing against her tailbone, working to the left, towards her hip and tease, trailing your lips ever lower to a spot just over the peak of her butt, until she wants your tongue to dive right in.

The thought is interrupted by her blessing, "Again. Another. However you want," her words stumble upon each other, a raspy, spent quality to her. "Whatever you want."

You kneel at the very end of the bed, lean over and take her hips and you lift them up with an abrupt strength that earns her immediate interest, judging by her sudden gasp. You put her on her knees, ass in the air. Beneath it, her lips shine and spread. You're going to drown in her. You lean over, planting kisses along her body until they land right where your fingers had been, right along her soaked pussy.

The taste is so sweet. Dani whimpers as her body twitches. Your lips part her, and your tongue stretches and laps her up with an unshakeable excitement. Dani tastes amazing, like every inch of her, hot and rich and so unbelievably delicate. She is desire—concentrated and distilled into the female form. Your mouth descends, kissing every tiny spot you can reach, your lips closing, sucking the sticky warmth into your mouth. You might spend the rest of eternity here, savouring her juices.

Each rough lick gives Dani a small burst of pleasure. This is perhaps not the most elegant approach, but you wouldn't dream of stopping and so you continue, over and over, eager to return Dani to her previous, tranced bliss. So wet and sweet and smooth as velvet, your tongue flattens over her clit.

Dani cums twice like this. Ass in the air, your face in her cunt, two more delicious releases and you lap up both. They come accompanied by Dani's musical screams and moans and swearing and mumbles and complete incoherence. Every part of her body tenses. Every movement becomes forced, with less control, until every part of her, quivering and shaking, is taken by a rapture. Her throat chokes off her moans and breathy whimpers, and then she becomes lost for a time, struggling to remember to breathe, caught up in the overwhelming, and unstoppable waves.

"Enough, enough," Dani chokes out, and so you stand back, watching as she twists back into a flat position on her back again, her hips shaking with the effort. She trembles for a while longer before lying perfectly still on the table. As you gaze at her, she still appears ethereal, unattainable. She gazes up at you with lidded eyes and the drowsy content smile that rests upon her lips—she is a goddess. Even after all those body-racking orgasms, she settles into that same elegant grace that makes you question what makes her mortal.

Dani raises a hand and curls a beckoning finger, "Come here."

And you come to her, to her smile that draws you in, a moth to a flame and the moth will burn, not the flame, it will never tire, it will consume anything. She takes you in her hand, hard and throbbing under her delicate touch, and yet so helpless against it. With a pull, Dani draws you in—to consume.

She parts those pretty, pink, curled lips and then looks up into your eyes and sighs as her warm breath runs across your length. Danielle curls her tongue to the underside of your head and engulfs it. She doesn't raise her head from where it rests, instead making you clamber up to her, so you put a knee on the wooden frame and a hand next to her shoulder. The heat grows, and Dani is swirling her tongue over your tip, making you twitch and throb in her grasp, a slave to her touch.

You're pushing forward, leaning over her, as her mouth opens wide and lets you in, then, all at once, tightens. Her tongue and lips stretch around your thickness and then enclose you, sealing tight. She makes a point of looking you in the eye, holding your stare, a curl at the corner of her mouth that only further sets a tremble to your loins. She pulls, slow, agonising and without hurry, her mouth holds tight and sucks back.

You pull out of her, an inch, and she stays clamped tight and as she draws away, she uses the time to slowly slide her tongue along and around your crown and against the sensitive underside. Once Danielle has pulled right off with a wet smack, the warmth of her breath covers your cock once more. She flicks her tongue against your tip, first as a long, sweeping, lingering brush, then a rapid flick that teases.

"Dani, fuck," you groan.

"That's the idea," she whispers, right against you, her warm, panting breath driving you crazy, her own burning desire barely contained. "Get down there and do me. Right now."

Then, in one fluid movement, her hands find her legs. She grips behind her knees and pulls her thighs up and back. She spreads her legs wide, with her feet in the air.

"Fuck me. I mean it," she states firmly, fixing you with that stern gaze. Her words send a flaming arrow directly to light the most basic of your instincts.

She has presented everything to you and wants to give even more. You can think of nothing else but ploughing her into the table until your vision fades to white. It takes only seconds and you find yourself over her, between those slim legs. You put a hand on each thigh and spread her.

Cock bearing down on her leaking cunt, you lower your body until she has all of your weight on top of her. Her hips squirm under your pressure, and she drags your arm tighter around herself until she finds exactly what she's been looking for. A rub between her folds as your length slips against her, up and down.

"Mmm, yes," she giggles, "put it in, all of it."

In an almost unconscious action, you place the head of your cock against her opening. Her wetness provides no friction, and Dani uses her nails to scratch your back impatiently. Slowly you flex forward. Every inch. So warm, so fucking hot. Tighter than anything.

"Oh, yes," is all Dani has to say as her breath cuts short. You feel the intense squeeze, you have no doubt this is a step beyond the pleasure your fingers gave her, and her entire body tightens, and she pulls you in, deep and full. Her eyes grow wide and her fingers dig into you as you draw back and drive in once more.

Another moan, her pitch gets deeper, this one drawn out from her very core. You hear it right in her chest, from the depth of her lungs, before it squeals free, right into your ear. "Worth every penny." Her words are thick and drawled, hard to make out, she can't seem to decide whether she wants to open her mouth or close it and keep it shut.

She wraps her arms tight around your neck and pulls you in deeper, you push her legs higher, folding her body up and it only makes things tighter, a thrill she clearly relishes.

You roll forward, holding her close to you, giving you a better purchase with her feet held up so high. Dani groans as you bite and suck at the soft skin along her neck. Your thrusts are still slow, so damnably slow. You push, and fill, and wait. Over and over, it's a cruel torment to both of you.

"Ah, come on. Give it to me, hard," Dani says, raking nails on your neck. She turns her head. Finds your mouth. Seals her lips against yours. Teeth nibble and then her tongue penetrates your mouth. Her hips start to rise and drop. Her sex grabs at you, pleading to pound her.

So you let go of your iron self-restraint and fuck her. Fuck her good.

Your tempo grows more powerful. Her walls squeeze and pull and writhe with a desperate need. It's tight, so, so tight, the way she envelops you, the slick warmth around you. Each stroke sends a shudder through her. Another ripple follows and with it, her high, pitchy wails. Dani's never been so loud, so demanding that her pleasure be delivered.

Number five is close, you can feel her body going rigid, the quivering, twitching, curling of her toes, the growing tension, you go faster, a force building within, trying to rush her to the inevitable. Dani screams, moaning incoherently, her eyes screw tight as you throw yourself into her with such ferocity, like an animal, with no regard for pace, or rhythm. Pure, unrelenting pleasure.

She grips so hard on your shoulder, and then her other hand goes back, over her head, gripping the edge of the table in white-knuckled desperation. "I'm... cumming," Dani spits through a clenched jaw, unable to even form her tongue around the word.

Her orgasm feels more powerful this time, so much more; it flows through her and you can't help but stare. Watching the way the pink blossom blooms on her face and how the rest of her pales. One orgasm into another, you think, it's difficult to discern. You're in no rush. No race. Instead, you delight in the absolute loss of control you see in Danielle's face and you feed off it.

Her mouth forms a soundless scream and she reaches up and sinks her nails into your chest and drags them across, not breaking the skin, but hard enough to leave marks. It feels amazing. All the more so watching Danielle break herself, willingly.

"Holy shit..." Danielle pants then sucks air into her empty lungs.

Her little, flexible body, pinned beneath yours, seems incapable of even the tiniest motion, save the trembles.

Through gritted teeth, she says, "I want— I want a facial. My face. Cum."

This is the single sexiest thing she could have possibly said at that moment. For all the time you've spent watching that pretty doll-like face contort in a hundred different ways, you want nothing more than to see it coated with your lust. To paint every last bit of that sweetness on her lips, on her cheeks—everywhere. To witness that brief moment, after climax where she is confused and awash with bliss and trying to remember how to breathe, and it's interrupted by a load of your cum. You want it.

You round the table, standing over her head, lowering down and watching her eyes spark with anticipation. Danielle knows how bad you want it, how close it is, and you watch, enraptured by the way she tilts her head up and licks her lips. Her little, eager tongue.

Dani wraps her fingers around you and strokes and pumps fast, pulling, urging you to completion, teasing you to spill over her, onto those pretty, dainty features. Your skin feels alive, like static and pinpricks and pure lightning, like your nerves have come to the surface. Pent-up energy coils low, threatening to snap. You cannot resist her anymore.

It all unfurls in a glorious, explosive instant. Blinding. A shiver climbs up your spine, spreading to every limb in one long spasm. A long, raw growl in your throat as you shoot thick and hard, some on her face, and some overshooting onto her chest. Dani gasps a cute little "Oh" and then starts to giggle as the second rope lands right over her perfect little features. And then another, this time across the bridge of her nose and her cheek and down her lips. Her tongue collects whatever it can.

Dani's small hand keeps a hard grip and keeps coaxing, even as you feel like you have nothing to give, with it all painting her face, still, she jerks up and down, until you are empty, trembling and drained. Still, she goes, forcing you through painful shivers, laughing the whole time until the pain becomes too much, and your hands take hers and pull.

You prop yourself against the table, looking down at the mess you made. Dani's happily laughing to herself, licking up what she can. "You'll need to clean me again now, won't you? Sponge away all your dirty filth," she giggles.

Her giggle is intoxicating. Loving. It warms you right through. You wish you could bottle up her laughter.

"Need a minute," you grunt, and there's so much pride on her cum-strewn face.

"Aw, need time for recovery?" Dani quips. "I'll just lay here, all messy and defiled. Waiting to be tended to. Enjoy the sight of me, of your filthy cum all over my sweet, innocent face, until you get the strength to lift me. Really, don't rush, I love this feeling."

[ohnogemini]

Are You Sure?

Hello, the name is Gem ✧⭑๋

This is the first fic I have ever written, and I have been sitting on it for a few months entirely too nervous to post it. I know typically fics tend to be short but this one flew out of me and I could not stop. I would love to hear your feedback and thoughts however please be nice to me for I am but a ｡⋆୨soft baby୧⋆｡ I hope you enjoy my story that came to me after watching every video of Lee Minho going camping over and over again ᵔᴗᵔ

✶ Word Count: 13k

★ Genre: !afab reader x Lee Minho

✹ Rating: Explicit 18+ Minors Do Not Enter

★ Comments: Tropes used: oops one bed; friends to lovers. Fluff and yearning. Slow to smut but it gets there. Felix and Seungmin make an appearance. M & F receiving oral ; unprotected consensual sex ; light spanking ; some cursing.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪.

You're sitting on your hands, with your feet hanging off the dock looking out onto the clear lake before you. The water is still enough that you can see your reflection when you look over the edge. You pull a hand from under you and absentmindedly put a strand of hair back behind your ear.

The air is warm, but the shade from the tree nearest to you is covering the top half of your body and you silently thank it for shielding your head from the beating sun. You feel the vibrations of movement on the deck before you hear the footsteps and you're immediately reminded of the knot in your stomach, the tension in the air that has been pulling at you for the last 20 hours.

You're aware that you've been sitting here by yourself for a while but cannot place how long that could have possibly been. The footsteps approach and stop next to you; glancing down to your right you see his sandaled feet and slowly trail up to see his half smile, left side of his lip curled and his eyes looking soft and half closed.

He's dressed differently now than when you parted with the guys and came to sit at the dock. Soft black shorts, a black shirt with the sleeves cut off, a baseball hat sits on his head barely revealing fading blond hair around the tips of his ears. He's holding a small wicker basket, though you can't see its contents.

"Hi, Minho" you say softly - as your eyes fall back to your lap, curling your hands around the hem of your shorts. He chuckles a little.

"Would you like one?" You hear him grab something and the sound of a glass clinking together. You look back up and see he's holding out a bottle of soju, your favorite flavor.

You pretend to read a watch on your wrist that you don't have - " I suppose now is as good a time as any. "

You try to shine a sincere smile up at him and hope he doesn't catch that your joke may have a double meaning. You grab the bottle from him; he moves a little bit forward and gracefully but forcefully plops himself down over the edge next to you, quickly realizing he has slips on and pulling them off and setting them down next to him, along with the basket. Minho grabs another bottle and two tiny clear cups and offers you one with a sly grin and kind eyes.

You shake your head, "Thank you, but I don't think I'll need that at the moment". Twisting the cap off your bottle, you hold it out to him for a cheers.

His smile softens a little, air blowing out of his nose like he's trying not to judge you and clinks your glasses together. You turn straight ahead again and pull a long swig from the bottle relishing in the sweet taste of strawberries. He opens his and takes a long swig too, opting to go the same route as you perhaps to ease the tension or maybe he needs it, too.

A silence falls around you and him. It's gentle but the quiet tension is still there from last night and this morning. He's sitting a little closer than you had expected him to. A flash from last night pings through your head and you wince at the thought.

It's been 5 months since you last saw him. Although you text quite often, and he calls you occasionally to check in, just like he always has since you met him 4 years ago- the distance has grown recently and become a little harder for you, even though you'd never admit it. Last time you spoke on the phone he invited you to this vacation.

You were a little nervous at the thought of tagging along with him and a few of his roommates on a camping trip, but you couldn't fight the need to be by his side again, so you accepted.

Every day, thoughts spin in your head about him. Each time the feelings become more vivid, more real, and precise. The corner of his lips when he smirks. How his entire face lights up, head tilts back and eyes crease when he laughs at one of your dumb jokes. No matter how desperately you try, the images and thoughts always fight their way to the surface.

"Neulbo..." His voice is incredibly soft and teasing, trailing the nickname out a little long but it snaps you out of the small trance you were in. You look over to him with a squint of pretend aggravation. He lets out a loud, quick couple of punctuated ‘hahas' and smacks his knee. He knows the nickname annoys you but not in a bad way. It’s true, you are lazy, but only because you like to enjoy the little things in life.           

              Just like this moment.

"Have you reconsidered my offer to go fishing tomorrow morning? I think you'll be good at it since it doesn't take any skill." He winks. "Plus, it’s a perfect relaxation moment for a little sloth like you. It’s just like what we’re doing right now but - with stinky bait and a pole."

He finishes the last sentence with a cheesy grin, his perfect bunny teeth showing, head tilted a little- like he knows his charms are working on you.

"If it also involves some of this, then I suppose it can't be too bad. But I'm still debating!" You hold up your drink and take another long swig as you look him in the eyes. He doesn't look away as it drops from your lips, and you clasp it in both hands. His face falls to a more serious look and the knot in your stomach swirls.

In your head you're repeating, please don't bring it up, please don't bring it up, please don't bring it up. But he does...

"I'm sorry about last night. Seungmin can be a little instigator and doesn't know when to keep his mouth shut. And it certainly doesn't help that Yongbokie can sometimes be clueless. They mean well but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable during our time here. Only I am allowed to make you feel uncomfortable." He quickly reaches out and pinches your thigh and you let out a squeak.

He's always known how to break the tension in most situations- by making a funny face at you, saying something absolutely random that it catches everyone off guard, or simply screeching in the most ungodly way that everyone bursts out in laughter. This moment is no different.

The tension subsides except for the small pull in your stomach- you're not sure that will ever go away. He's not wrong about Felix either. You've been around him enough to know that his sunshine demeanor and kind soul is no facade. He would never intentionally make you feel awkward.

Seungmin on the other hand... He knew what he was doing. It was already determined during the group text when you guys were planning the trip that you and Minho would share one of the glamping tents while Felix and Seungmin shared the other. It made the most sense since you didn't know the others as well as him. What you didn't know, was that Seungmin had purposefully booked one with two small cots and another with one larger cot. That little shit. And since they got there before you and Minho, they had already picked the one with the two small cots.

After dramatically rubbing your thigh and making an exaggerated frown, you look back up at him,

"Felix is lucky he's so adorable. However, Seungmin is on my shit list."

He punches out a laugh with a fake shocked expression on his face. You continue, "I truly don't mind sharing a room with you, we've done it before. But hiding condoms under the pillow and loudly playing "Let's Get it On" from his phone pressed up against the side of our tent was him digging his own grave."

You smile and laugh a little, taking another sip as he falls back against the dock covering his face with his arm, his nose pressed into his elbow. He's really laughing now. It's pure and loud and makes you laugh harder. You turn your body towards him slightly, fold your right leg and put your elbow on your knee to look at him writhing in laughter.

It truly was funny what Seungmin did, but it did make you extremely aware that you would be sleeping very close to Minho all weekend. You continue to trail your eyes over him as he laughs. First to his perfectly toned arm laying over his face, down his chest that's bouncing softly with each laugh, falling to the slit that his shirt is making right over the top of his shorts giving you the tiniest, thrilling view of his tight stomach muscles, finally to his thighs... strong, thick muscles... perfect to sit on, or even bite... 

The silence rings in your ear a moment and you are acutely aware that he has stopped laughing. Your eyes dart back to his face to see that he’s dropped his arm and was watching while you were very much staring down at his legs.

You see the smallest hint of a smirk across his lips - but you don't linger - and quickly bring your bottle up to slam the rest of your drink. He sighs softly and leans back up to a sitting position. With the way you turned to see him laughing, when he comes all the way upright, the closeness between you two is aggressively narrower than before.

Since this proximity is not new to either of you, you try not to move away so as not to seem startled by the sudden closeness, but your heart is beating rapidly; you hope he can't hear it or sense the tingles that run down your spine when his knee brushes yours. You remind yourself again that this is not abnormal, you've even rested your head on his shoulder a few times while watching a movie on the couch. But something in the air has felt different this weekend. Palpable.

"I suppose the guys will be back in the next half hour or so." He takes another sip of his drink and looks straight out across the lake.

You follow his eyes and take in the sight with him. The sun is just barely starting to fall slowly behind the mountains. This spot truly is serene. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his profile. Sharp but delicate. You turn ever so slightly to pretend you're looking at the oncoming sunset. His skin has become more honey-like since summer has started, and you hadn't noticed before, but he turned his hat backwards. Annoyingly attractive.

Although the lake sits still in front of you there is a faint sound of the river that flows behind the campsite and connects to the lake up above. You feel the heat rise slowly in your stomach but stop yourself. This is Lee Minho, your friend...

You shake out of your thoughts, smile and say, "I bet you 15,000 won Felix tripped and fell at some point."

He turns to you with a mischievous look "I bet you 15,000 more that Min tripped him"- Your hand raises to your lips with big eyes, and you can't help but giggle. His had bolts up and grabs the yours that was covering your mouth, "Let's go hide some of Min’s stuff!" He stands and pulls you up with him.

"I would love nothing more!" you say as you squeeze his hand.

You both remain for a second longer then would be normal with your hands lightly clasped, feeling an approaching heat flush up on your cheekbones, you pull your hand away to secure a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Also, you brought ALL of the soju for us?? Did you expect us to drink all of that just sitting out here?!" you look over his shoulder at the basket he brought. Sure enough, it had a bag at the bottom with ice and 6 bottles of soju sitting in it.

He turns around and points down at the basket "Firstly, that's not ALL the soju we have. But also, I wasn't quite sure how you were feeling. You opted out of the hike and then told us you'd wait by the lake. I figured maybe... if you didn't want to come back, we could sit here and drink heavily until we'd have to crawl to camp later for bed." He looks up with another sneaky half smile and a chuckle in the back of his throat.

His words were playful, but you can't help but notice that lying within those words was concern for you. Was it only concern? Or maybe he wanted to spend some alone time with you? You blink away the thoughts quickly.

"However fun that really does sound, I really want to mess with Minnie, and I am getting pretty hungry." You reach down to grab the basket, but he swats your hand away and wags his finger at you.

" Nuh uhh, my clumsy Neulbo."

You pull the towel tightly around your chest and tuck the top part in between your cleavage. The showers at the campsite are bleak but it got the job done. During your shower your mind continued to betray you. Your thoughts couldn't help wandering towards the way Minho's thighs looked flat against the dock, shivering at the thought of tracing your fingers over the defined muscles...

However, the cold water helped free your mind from the slight fog of the bottle of soju you inhaled while sitting with him at the dock, and your stomach was screaming at this point.

During the group text, Felix had brought up hot dogs for dinner and you were excited at the idea of having an American styled camping dinner. You missed your home but being in Korea for the past 5 years has been the kind of adventure and change your soul really needed. Besides, after meeting Minho a year into your time here everything really fell into place. It was an immediate connection. Both of you being on the more reserved side but still craving adventure, music and food. And damn did Minho know his food.

That's how you know that dinner isn't going to just be hot dogs. If anything, Minho has made at least 10 other side dishes, and you're not mad about that.

You quickly towel dry your hair and slip into your outfit. It’s still decently hot so you picked an oversized graphic tee with the collar and sleeves cut off, so it falls down one shoulder, your bandeau bra shows slightly on the sides, and jean shorts that are a little shorter than you remembered.

"Oh, wow Noona, you're absolutely glowing!" Felix says with a bright smile and a cute wave as you walk back into the opening of your campsite. You stick your tongue out to the side and wink as you pass him by to place your things inside your tent.

Minho had made the bed and even picked your jacket and purse off the ground and put them onto a hook at the back of the tent. You chuckle to yourself and throw your dirty clothes on top of your luggage in the corner, knowing he'll pester you later about your laziness. Right now, you're too hungry and ready for another drink to care.

"That's absolutely not how it works, and you have lost, just accept it." Seungmin is sitting back in a camping chair speaking to Felix who is dramatically waving his hands in the air.

"You can't only suggest word games with me and expect me to ever win a single round. If it was in English, I could win!" Felix stomps over to a large brown bag that they filled with games for the trip and pulls out Jenga. "We're switching to physical games, I'm too soft and tired for your mind games Min".

Pulling a bottle of soju out of the cooler you glance over to Minho who is working studiously over an open fire cooking. He's carefully turning over huge sausages on the grill and using a white towel here and there to wipe beads of sweat from his forehead.

You notice that the table next to him is just as you expect it to be, filled with small plates of Korean meats and side dishes. The man can never go without being extra when it comes to food. You bend back down to pick up another bottle of soju and a water bottle and mosey over to him.

"This looks like thirsty work." You outstretch your left hand that holds both a bottle of soju and water to him.

You can really see the sweat on his face and neck now. A single drip comes down from the corner of his forehead, slowly falling down his cheek to the swoop of his neck; he catches it with the towel pressing it down around his neck and onto the bit of chest that's showing from the top of his shirt.

His eyes blink at the drinks several times in serious thought and grabs both.

"At least someone appreciates my hard work out here." He gives you a small toothy smile and sets the soju down, twisting the water bottle cap off and chugging most of it in one go.

"I haven't seen that shirt in a while. I like what you've done with it." He points the water bottle at your shirt and goes back to drinking it.

You truly didn't think he'd remember giving you this shirt years ago. It was within the first year you guys became close. Being the clumsy person you are, when you were at his apartment you had spilled an entire glass of red wine on your new blouse; he demanded you take it off immediately so he could wash it in cold water and gave you one of his old t-shirts to wear. It was comfy and you liked the design. But you liked it especially because it was his.

"Oh," you chuckle nervously- "I hope you don't mind. You said I could keep it and it felt like the perfect shirt to make into a summer fit." You glance down at the cartoon cats high fiving on the front of the shirt and pull at the bottom hem a little.

"No, no. I don't mind. You somehow turned my old dusty shirt into a thing of fashion. Let's try not to ruin this one too, huh? I couldn't bear the thought of the kitties being thrown into the trash tonight. There is only so much heartache one can go through in life." His playful smirk is back on his lips again as he turns back to the fire to pull the food off the grill and place it on the table.

"Alright you animals, come eat before it gets cold and Lino gets angry!" He clanks the tongs together a few times towards Felix and Seungmin and they are up out of their seats headed to the table before he even finishes the sentence.

The food is outrageous. You can't help but wonder if it's because you're so hungry or purely because Minho can make anything delicious no matter where he is or what supplies he has. The sun had fully set, and you and Felix clicked on all the lamps during dinner. Conversation was fun and easy like it usually is between all of you. You, Felix and Seungmin played rock, paper, scissors to decide who had to take all the trash to the animal safe bins and by no surprise Felix lost.

The drinks flowed swiftly now. The remaining soju was finished, and everyone ripped into the case of beer Seungmin had brought. There was whining and groaning about fishing in the morning, but Minho held firm that everyone had to participate. As the night dwindled, the games became too much of a hassle and eyes grew sleepy, Felix and Seungmin waved half-hearted goodnights as they dragged their feet to their tent.

You were slightly bent over towards a small faucet coming from the ground, rinsing your hands free of some soap and the remnants of dinner and a Jello candy you had for dessert when you're caught off guard by a voice right behind you -

"Are you going to use all the water from the well?" Minho says just above a whisper- your heart jumps and you stumble forward catching the faucet on your hip falling a swift path to landing on your face.

As your stomach flips at the plummet, you feel yourself stop midair. His hand is holding tight to the top of the back of your shorts while the other quickly finds its way right below your belly button to stop your fall. The fear you had a moment ago all at once turns to relief as you dissolve into laughter.

"What the hell Lino, you scared me! How are you so quiet with all these damn twigs everywhere!" You're still giggling quite loudly as you try to straighten yourself up.

The hand holding your shorts lets go warily, but the one on your stomach holds firm helping you get your balance pulling you back up and closer to him. You did not realize you were still a little tipsy, but it is apparent now as you teeter backwards flat against his chest. Both your hands come up to meet his over your belly as it softens from the adrenaline-fueled laughter.

"Someone still seems a little affected by the drinks tonight." His laugh is low, but you can tell by the way it sounds that he has that mischievous smile on his lips again.

He still hasn't made an effort to let go of you and you're unsure if that's because he's nervous to let you go if you might fall or if he's happy to have the sensation of your body pressed up against his and your hands laid gently over his.

"Let's say we take a night stroll by the river. I promise I'll try my best not to push you in no matter how strong the urge is." He squeezes you a little tighter now before grabbing one of your wrists to turn you around and starts to lead the way, not looking back to witness the flush on your cheeks.

The walk to the river’s edge isn’t far. You stopped at the camp to grab another bottle of water before continuing. The short walk was quiet which was not uncommon with you and Minho. Silence never really bothered either of you when you were together. Usually filled with giggles at whatever anime or new movies you happily dived into. Or silent looks and gestures at food or scenery you enjoyed.

But tonight, you wanted him to talk. Even though he spoke plenty with you and the guys at dinner, it was different when it was just the two of you. His voice had this special edge, and his tone would lilt upwards unlike his more serious voice when around others.

"Thanks for making us hot dogs Lino. Even though they were most certainly sausages and not Ball Park Franks like I'd usually have at home." You skipped up next to him with your hands behind your back pushing playfully into his shoulder.

"I've never heard of them, but they sound unhealthy." He looks over at you one eyebrow raised blinking a few times, "I'm confident these were better." He chuckles softly and pushes back into your shoulder.

The sun had set hours ago but there was a clear view of the moon on the other side of the river giving you the perfect amount of light to see his feline eyes patrolling the ground for large rocks and pointing them out or guiding the both of you around them.

You scoff and turn your head up a little at his diss of your favorite guilty pleasure food, that is admittedly not that healthy.

"Not every meal has to be a perfect balance of nutrition you know. People are allowed to enjoy a little junk food once in a while!" You both laugh again, smiling at each other very well knowing you've made midnight runs to the corner store for ice cream plenty of times together.

"Thanks for bringing me on this trip too. I definitely was not expecting the invite." You say this part a little quieter than the last.

"Of course, why wouldn't I?" His response is quick, his tone is matter of fact.

"I guess I just didn't anticipate it at all." You're looking down at your feet now. He looks over at you, but you don't look up.

"Well now you're sounding ridiculous." He says this one through a huff that could have been a laugh. But for some reason you can’t match it. You're not sure why, but you suspect it has something to do with the knot that's still in your stomach, keeping you tethered to some sort of unspeakable tension.

"Either way, I was surprised. I sort of started feeling like you'd forgotten about me." As soon as you said it you felt foolish. He stops dead in his tracks.

"What made you think that?" His voice sounds more serious now than when he was retorting your statements earlier, with a tone of concern as if he thinks he's done something wrong.

You stop too and turn towards him as your hands come up waving in front of your face with your head shaking back and forth. The bottle in your hand has a tiny bit of water left in it and is making a small sloshing sound as your vigorously waving. He reaches up and grabs it, sliding it into his back pocket; the action is done before you can realize it’s happening.

"I just meant that..." you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you calculate the right words to say how you've been feeling but not too acute that you sound crazy. He's looking at you more intently now as he watches you think. Patiently waiting for your response.

You meet his eyes- "Ever since the last time we hung out, when we went to that cafe, you've been sort of more reserved? I'm not sure if that's the right word or if I'm just imagining things."

Your face is flushed now but you're hoping the cover of night is making it hard to see. He squints his eyes slightly and now you can see the gears in his head turning.

His arms come forward and he crosses them in front of him for a moment; then they fall quickly to his sides, and he puts his hands into the front pockets of his sweats. It’s almost as if he found something particular he wanted to say but decided against it.

"If I'm being honest, I didn't realize I had been acting differently." He picks up his hat off his head, combs his hand through his hair, sets it back down on his head and sticks his hands back in his pockets.

You can see clearly now his brows are furrowed. You reach up and cover your eyes with one hand and rub them with your thumb and middle finger realizing now just how stupid it was for you to bring this up,

 "I'm sorry- I didn't mean to make you feel weird." Your hand drops down to see he has a grin back on his face. It's slight and his shoulders are pushed back into a more relaxed position now.

"Nonsense. I'm always weird." His grin widens, curled at the corners more with a small number of teeth showing. It softens when he continues. "But I'm glad you did bring it up because I suppose when I think of it, I have been a little distant and I'm happy to be more aware of it now."

You're not exactly sure what that means but you're too nervous to be direct and ask outright. Is he happy to be aware that he's been distant so he can try to not be? This is the first time in a while you've spoken about something so serious with him so you're unsure how to continue it.

You realize you've been silent for a little longer than anticipated as questions roll around in your head.

Instead of acknowledging his statement out loud you turn and point down the path. "There is a bench up ahead and it’s calling my name."

As you start moving ahead, you hear him chuckle and follow behind you. The air is slightly brisk now. But the heat over your body from the embarrassment of bringing that up makes you wish for a large cool breeze to wash over you.

You reach the bench quickly. It’s made from a log of wood, carved out with an L shape so you can sit and lean back against it. It’s quite small too. Just enough for two people to sit comfortably.

You sit on the farther end pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around your legs as he tosses the water bottle into the trash and sits next to you, legs stretched out in front of him leaning back with his hands tucked into his pockets.

"Ahhhhh" he sighs loudly, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath inwards from his nose, his head tilted up at the sky. He looks stunning in this light. His sharp features are softer, more rounded in the low light of the moon. It’s almost as if you're in a black and white film. His eyes stay closed for a moment longer before they open to look at you, looking at him. Your lips press together, turning into a thin line of a barely visible smile.

He quirks one side of his lips up and pulls his hands out of his pockets to clasp them together and place them on his lap.

"So then, what made you decide to come? And don't tell me it was your excitement for fishing because I know that will be a lie," he says with a faux serious look on his face.

A loud laugh bursts from you "You're going to be so mad when I catch the biggest fish out of all of you tomorrow. I know I'm clumsy, but my luck is insurmountable."

You can tell he doesn't deny it by the shake of his head as he returns your laughter. But he doesn't respond, clearly waiting for your real answer. You drop your hands down to your sides and shuffle a bit in your position pulling your legs a little tighter inward towards your body. Thinking back to that initial invitation and the excitement he had when you accepted it, you realize that maybe it's not too serious of a thing to admit that you missed him...

"To be honest, it’s been a while since I had a really good laugh. If feels better when I get to laugh with you instead of at my phone." It's not the whole truth, but it's what you're willing to say at the moment.

"I'm glad I can bring you some relief." He raises his left arm and leans it back on the bench turning his body slightly towards yours. He gives you much more than just relief, but you're not sure how to tell him.

"Well, what made you want to invite me on this trip?" It's time for you to ask the questions.

You look over at him now, keeping your eyes as soft and clear as you can manage despite the craving in your chest to hear certain words come from him, trying desperately not to expect anything. He looks out across the river with a shy smile on his lips and then turns to look you right in the eyes and speaks softly -

"I missed you."

He said it. The thing you were too scared to say. Plain and simple. Your heart stutters a bit as you try not to make a face. Against your wishes your lips part as you take your next breath and then it turns into a smile. He can definitely see the red in your cheeks now because he stares more keenly.

A surge in your stomach flows through you at that moment. Something just clicked and became clear to you that you hadn't noticed before or even thought twice about. How come Seungmin did those things last night?

As far as you can remember, he has never done anything like that before when you we're over at their apartment. Even the times you drifted off to sleep on the couch after staying up too late watching something or talking with Minho. What was different this time?

His last words seem to embolden you for a moment as the next question slips past your lips quicker than you can vet them in your mind. "Did Seungmin do those things last night for a reason?"

Your heart is hammering in your chest now. You really didn't think you'd have the courage to ask that. You went from semi-innocent questions to one with a significant undertone. However he looks a little more nervous than you for a moment.

He chuckles anxiously but you're unsure if it’s at the awkwardness of your question, or at the surprise of what he wants to answer. His pause is drawn out a little longer -

"I told him not to do anything stupid, but you know how he is. When he gets an idea to mess with someone he rarely can be stopped. A while back, he may have figured out something even I wasn't fully conscious of yet."

The implications of his statement are not lost on you. While he's not outright saying what you believe he's thinking, you're quite used to the way he speaks. His eyes search yours; they are a bit darker now, piercing, and you fight desperately not to look away. The tension that has been here all weekend was not in your head.

He tilts his head to the side, still gazing at you like he knows you're lost for words. You've never been good with saying what you mean out loud and he knows this, but he's being patient with you.

"I...." You pause for a moment as you draw in a shaky breath. "Are you saying something has changed?".

Your hand comes up to your mouth as you fiddle with your bottom lip, a nervous habit of yours he knows well. He reaches up and grabs your hand to pull it away from your mouth and down between the two of you. He rubs a small circle over the top of your thumb as he's looking down at them gently clasped together -

 "It doesn't have to if you don't want it to," he says in a low voice.

It feels as if your head is spinning. This must be why he was so distant lately. Fighting with his own thoughts on how to speak to you with this new knowledge in his head. You think back to December, when you realized he had started acting a little strange.

"Why did you wait so long to say anything to me?!" It comes as a surprise to you too as the words come out.

His head falls back as he laughs, eyes creasing in the way that reminds you just of how much you adore him. His hand releases yours and moves to grab your ankle pulling your right leg out and across his lap. He trails a hand up your shin and grabs your calf as his head falls back down to look at you.

"I may be incredibly smart and handsome, but I can be an idiot sometimes too." His smile is sly and mischievous again. His words are silly, but you're suddenly snapped back into reality at the feeling of his hand on your skin. A current runs up your leg and straight into the center of your stomach.

Before you let yourself chicken out, you move your other leg out and across his lap turning to face him completely, immediately craving more touch. His arm moves to let you, and finds its way around both your legs, resting his arm across and his hand placed delicately on your knee.

Your hands come down in your lap as you look down at them, twisting a ring around on your finger. Your legs feel heavy like they want to press completely against his strong thighs. Having the courage to move closer still didn't change your nervousness to look into his eyes. Hoping silently that perhaps your body language is answering better than your words can. You’ve thought about this moment a lot. You've danced the words around in your head while speaking with him face to face. But saying them, that was different.

After a long moment, you speak up quietly -

"I would like that."

You hope he knows you are answering his question earlier about things changing between you two. You peek your eyes up at him, slowly raising your head. "For things to change," you say, just in case to clarify.

His eyes are softer now but he's biting his lower lip. Then the corner of his lips sweeps up again,

"Are you sure?" He asks after a beat, like he's letting your words sink around him.

You can feel the tension snap inside of you, and the only way you know how to make him feel what your body has been screaming for, is by showing him.

Your hands come up to his cheeks as you close your eyes and press a soft kiss to his lips, holding there for a moment. His lips are so soft, and you've wanted to kiss them for years. You feel his right hand slide up from your knee to the side of your thigh and squeeze lightly as his other comes up and lands on the back of your neck.

The nerves in your body light on fire. His hand on your neck guides your head to tilt a little and deepen the kiss. Pressing together a few more times, still gently. It feels surreal. You can smell his skin better now; a deep woodsy smell mixed with salt and some of his shampoo from his shower earlier. It's intoxicating and you want to inhale him completely. The mix of his hands on you and the closeness of your bodies kicks off a need in you.

He pulls away and you make a sharp inhale. Your eyes open to see his trained on yours. They are dark and lustful, ones you have never seen before. The look in his eyes feels almost as if he had to pull away and look at you like he needed to check and make sure you were real.

The next kiss is hungrier than the last. He shifts his body over on the bench to get closer to yours, his firm legs now pressing up against the bottom of your thighs closing the gap as far as he can.

He lets out a low "mmmm" at the back of his throat as your lips start moving faster, parting just enough to pull his lip into your mouth and suck softly. Dragging your teeth against his skin, drawing another noise from him.

The sound jolts your body and sends a spark straight down, deep in your center where everything is swirling, moving too fast for your mind to focus on. Your hands release from his face and slide down to his shoulders, running over his defined muscles, stopping to feel them, then wrapping around his neck and locking him in.

You can feel the vulnerable apprehension of your kisses as the speed continues to pick up. You want to taste him more. It feels like you should have been doing this forever. His hands let go of your face and neck, then are instantly at your hips. Clutching tightly. You shiver and your lips disconnect again.

"Come here." He says through a soft grin as he pulls you up and over him easily. Your legs spread over him until your knees are on either side and your ass is resting perfectly on his lap. It's very apparent now that he's starting to harden in his sweats. You press down against him, rolling your hips cautiously so you can feel him more, straddling his perfect frame.

His hands find your hips again as he grabs you, holding you down against him as his head falls back and lets out an excited sigh. You can't help but smile and delight in the way he looks crazed already.

"Why did it take so long for me to tell you?" He laughs as he leans back in to kiss you. This time, he dips his tongue out of his mouth and into yours. You moan as he swirls the muscle around in your mouth and you reciprocate. Languidly, taking your time to taste him.

You pull away after a minute, breathless and filled with desire- "I'm not sure, but I don't want to wait anymore."

He looks up at you and presses a hand to your cheek as he watches your eyes, hazy, filled with lust and staring at his lips. His thumb rubs back and forth on your cheek, "Should we go back to the tent?" He looks carefully at you waiting until your eyes meet his.

"Please." And you nod a few times. It's all the confirmation he needs before he stands up, holding you, wrapping your legs around him and starting to walk back the way you came.

His steps back start very fast. His hands grabbing your thighs tightly as they're wrapped around his waist. Your kisses had only just begun, and you don’t want to stop now. Your arms locked around his neck, pressing your lips to his over and over trying your best to line them up despite the awkward angle.

His right arm wraps itself around your back as his left holds you up by your ass. His steps slow as he pulls his head back and chuckles, "Despite not wanting to let go of you, If I don't put you down, I will likely trip and we will both go into the water."

He stops completely, attempting to let you down. Your legs tighten around him as you tilt his head back for another kiss; you finally have the right angle, passionate, pushing your tongue past his lips to taste him again.

Your tongues dance around each other, testing movements and finding a perfect rhythm. He moans as you pull on his bottom lip again, giving you confirmation that he likes it as much as you like doing it; there’s a small popping noise as you pull away.

"That's fair. Only because I know I'd have to rescue you, and I'm not sure I am strong enough." You giggle as you release your legs and connect your lips to his again. Not letting go from the kiss even as your feet are planted on the ground.

You step back and sigh, a little breathless from how hungry you were feeling in the moment. Everything is moving so fast your mind hasn't really taken a second to think about anything other than him. It all felt so natural, like it was meant to happen. Alone in nature, with your favorite person, mixing both your needs and wants together in a swirl of excitement.

He turns you around and gently but firmly slaps your ass to get you moving.

"I've spent years staring at your perfect ass. I need to see it without clothes on soon or I might die". He walks up next to you and puts his arm around your waist fiddling with the hem of your shirt, sending small shivers up your spine, guiding you quicker towards the camp.

Years?

"How long have you known?" You ask as you glance over at him.

"It's always been there." He's looking forward in contemplation.

"Well you said something changed. I guess... what was it?"

He takes a deep breath as he arranges his thoughts. His hand moving around your lower back in small circles as if he's grounding himself to you.

"I'm not sure anything changed really. I think it just became clearer." His hand moves again and closes around the base of your neck, possessively. You shudder a bit at how soft but strong his hands are, trying not to show how much that simple act turned you on.

"I started realizing things like how your voice made me feel. Like how it calms me when I'm feeling stressed- or how you match my energy when I'm excited about something. My thoughts became deeper, and it just clicked. I was nervous for a while, to mess things up between us, but I knew I didn't want you as 'just a friend' anymore."

Your belly whirls in warmth as you hear the words. You pull them apart in your mind. Embedding them into your memory. Then, your feelings quickly build in a vortex of restlessness seeing the path open to your campsite. You've had enough talking and you need him. Now.

He lowers his arm and strides in front of you a little bit to get to the tent, pulling the Velcro apart slowly, trying not to be too loud. You register quite quickly that his roommate’s tent isn't exactly next to yours, but still close enough that they could potentially hear you. You make a mental note of that as he holds a side open for you to step into your tent.

Hear you? Oh god, is this really happening?

His smile is playful, and his eyes are following you as you kick your sandals off and move past him through the opening.

The second you make it to the middle of the tent it becomes all too real what's about to happen. What you desperately want to happen. Your stomach tightens and your breath quickens as a panic fills your body mixed with anticipation.

But before the feeling takes over, you feel him pressed up behind you again, one hand is on your stomach and the other runs from one side of your collarbones to the other, then slowly up your neck, to your chin, guiding your head to the side to kiss him over your shoulder.

Your breath trembles but your body relaxes against his, immediately settling into his touch- bringing all those feelings down your body, tingling in your fingertips and building in your core. He held you like this earlier, but this time it was different.

Your lips move together as his hand leaves your chin, back down your neck to your chest where it slips beneath the top of your shirt and over your shoulder, the inner corner of his elbow around your neck.

You instinctively reach up to grab his arm feeling completely encompassed by him, running your fingers over his toned muscles. A short high-pitched whine escapes your mouth as his other hand slips under the bottom of your shirt placing his firm hand on your bare stomach.

"Your skin is so soft... I want to taste every inch of it..." He breathes out between you.

A chill runs down your spine at his low voice- as his lips come away from yours and smooth against your neck. Your head falls back onto his shoulder giving him better access as you moan quietly from the sensation.

Your back arches and your ass grinds back into his cock where you can feel it straining against his sweats. He moves his lips back and forth, teasing the skin, giving you goosebumps, then starts taking small bites and placing kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.

He leads the two of you forward, lips not leaving your neck, taking small steps towards the bottom end of the bed. As you reach it, his hands come back down to your waist and slowly turns you around.

Your breath hitches in your throat as you're face to face with him, his eyes are filled with desire, almost closed, with his mouth open slightly breathing deeply.

"You can," you reach out and put your hands on his chest, kissing him again. " You can taste it... you can have all of it..." Your words are whispers as you kiss him deeply. Making sure he feels your words, tastes the ache your body has for him.

You assume he receives it because his hands are pulling at your shirt now, asking to lift it up over your arms. You stick them up as you let him pull his old t-shirt up and over your head and onto a pillow on the bed. Your bra is still there, hiding what you know he wants to see. You feel a little shy for a moment, then pull it up and off, revealing your round full breasts for him.

"Fuck..." he says under his breath; then almost as if he senses your shyness at being topless in front of him, he yanks his shirt off over his head and presses your bodies together wrapping one arm around your back, leaning forward, pushing you slowly back onto the bed to lay on top of you.

He kisses you delicately now, like he's savoring the moment, lips coming together for soft pecks. Then moves to your cheek, down your neck, stopping first at the soft spot just below your jaw, shifting his body to start going lower. The way he's laying on you, fitting between your open legs so perfectly, you can't help but wrap them around him. You know he can feel the heat coming from your lower half.

He continues down your chest, kissing softly and tracing his hands down your sides. He takes his time with his mouth on each breast, starting on one, kissing the peak of your now very hard nipples, then swirling his tongue around and finally pulling them into his mouth- eyes closed, like he's truly relishing the taste of your skin. Your mouth parts and faint moans fall from you- shuddering every time he gently bites your nipples.

You've never felt your heartbeat so fast before, feeling like you may not even make it out of this alive at the rate your body reacts to his every touch. His hands come up and graze over your arms that lie flat against the bed as he continues his path of kisses down onto your stomach. Then they’re quickly at your waist pulling your body down, positioning your ass is at the edge of the bed. You gasp at the sudden movement, realizing what he wants to do.

"Lino..." your voice comes out in a whine as your eyes pinch shut for a second, body racing at just the thought of him between your legs.

"Hrmmm?" he hums out, his eyes not leaving your frame, hands tracing over every part of open skin he can come in contact with. You can’t form words to answer back, instead just squirming under his touch.

"May I take these off?" His hands cusp around the top of your jean shorts, one of his thumbs playing with the button as he looks up at you for confirmation. You lock eyes for the first time in a few minutes; he looks crazed but calm. You nod your head and lift from the bed slightly so he can unbutton and pull them off easier, down your legs and he tosses them towards your luggage.

You giggle a little as your shorts hit the pile - "So you can do that, but I can't?" Your voice is teasing but low.

He huffs and waves a hand "We'll talk about that later, right now I need you to do something for me."

You sit up on your elbows looking at him confused, his brows are bunched up and he licks his lips -

"I really need you to turn over so I can see your ass in these lace panties before I rip them off."

Your head tilts back as you laugh at how incredibly serious his face is with that statement, but quickly comply and roll over onto your stomach so he can get a clear view. You've always been proud of the shape and size of your ass. Never skipping squats when working out but never going too far so it stays soft and plump.

You hear him suck in a breath, hissing between his teeth as his hands come down to caress your cheeks. His thumbs go under the creases as he kneads into your soft skin getting as much of a handful his hands can allow. He pushes up with his palms and spreads your cheeks getting a clear view of how much you've soaked through your panties. Another sound escapes him, like he was holding his breath and blows the air out slowly.

You smirk at his intensity and wiggle your ass back and forth a little. A quick smack comes down on your right cheek that punches out a breath from you.

"mmmm...ohmygod" you purr out.

His hand quickly soothes over where he made the connection. "I had a feeling you'd like that." You can tell in his voice he's saying this through a smile.

Both of his hands slide up your back, then down to your ass, sliding flat up under your panties pulling them tight against your pussy, grabbing firmly now on your soft flesh. You're surprised by the cool, yet warm sensation of his lips followed immediately by a bite. You yelp quietly but intuitively push yourself into him more. He continues licking and biting each cheek, letting out soft grunting noises like he's a man starved who hasn't eaten in weeks.

His movements slow, lips trail down to where your panties are pulled tight against you, stopping right as he gets to the center. His hands push your legs apart slightly and lets out a breath, so warm against your aching skin. Your brain short circuits when you feel the first contact of his lips pressing a soft unrushed kiss on the fabric right over your clit leaving himself there for a moment. He pulls away and kisses again, with more pressure.

"Lino, please," you whine, your voice cracking a little.

*smack*

Another swift slap comes down, this time on your other cheek. Leaving no time for you to react he's yanking your panties down your legs and off you, before effortlessly turning you over. You're laying breathless for a moment, gathering yourself.

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to do this," his lips meet your right thigh, trailing kisses up towards your center and propping your leg over his shoulder. "There will be no rushing through this."

He pushes your left leg out, opening you further for him and you're instantly aware that you are lying completely naked, spread out, in front of the man you've longed for all these years.

He takes his time tracing lines on your left thigh with his fingers while kissing your right until he's planting them right around exactly where you need him to be. You can hear his breath deepen for a moment, then licks a stripe from the bottom of your pussy up to the top and pulls your clit between his plush lips and sucks.

The moan that escapes you is loud. Your hands grip the blanket as your body is already crumbling from his mouth. His tongue drags along you again dipping into your center to taste all the wetness he's created from this antagonizing slow pace he's controlling. He hums in appreciation and starts to circle around your clit with his tongue with the most perfect amount of pressure.

He's always been pretty in tune with you from the get-go. But the way he seems to know what to do, what your body wants, is thrilling to you. You squirm and push against him, vying for some sort of control as you feel yourself getting hazy.

He carries on his work, expertly lapping at you and pulling you into his mouth to suck and swirl his tongue around. You prop yourself up on your elbows not wanting to miss the sight of him between your legs. His eyes are closed, seemingly peaceful, despite the ravening way his mouth and head are moving to do exactly what he said he wanted and taste all of you.

Your eyes flutter as a familiar sensation builds up in your body, but you force them to stay open looking down at the insane sight of the most beautiful man enjoying you. His eyes open as he hears your breath quicken. You lock eyes with his and your head spins, the muscles in your legs tightening. His eyes crease as he steadies to slowly trail his tongue up and down you again.

For a moment you're confused, your brows furrow and a whine escapes you. He giggles, then moves his right hand up to your face, bringing his middle and pointer finger together, touching your lips softly, staring intently at them. His tongue doesn't stop moving as he pushes his fingers past your lips, and you dutifully take them in your mouth, sucking on them and swirling your tongue around.

"Mmmm," you hum around his fingers, aware that you've been receiving so much pleasure from him and haven't even started giving him any.

He pulls his head up a little farther to better see your mouth around his fingers. His lips part slowly as he watches you - eyes closed giving his fingers all you can to show him how ready you are for your turn.

His mouth connects to your clit again with more fervor as he brings his now slick fingers down to your entrance. His eyes trained on you, he slowly teases you with the tips of his fingers watching your body and your face as you writhe on the bed. Then before you can get used to the idea of his fingers being down there, he slides them in.

Your head rolls back, and a long breathy moan leaves you followed by a quick breath in. If you were close earlier, you’re quite literally on the edge now.

He feels you clenching around him, your body reacting strongly to every one of his licks, sucks, the curls of his fingers and touches of his other hand on your body, gripping the flesh on your thigh.

"God, you look so beautiful," he says breathy while continuing his work.

Your moans are louder now and for a moment, with his words in your ears, you don't care. But as he continues to put more pressure on a particular spot within you, your whine almost becomes a yell, you quickly bring your hand up to cover your mouth as your start to fall from the edge. He's still staring at you but with soft eyes now, like he really means what he said.

The feeling crashes over you, rippling through your body fast as his fingers and mouth keep pace to help you through it, lips not leaving you once. It undulates through you, taking all the burning from your shoulders, down through your spine, exploding down your center all the way to the tip of your toes leaving a trail, hot in its place. Your arms give out and you fall back on the bed. He slows his movements, letting you ride it out, then sensing your sensitivity, presses slow soft kisses around and on your center removing his fingers.

"Fuck..." you say under your breath as your try to regulate the speed of your heaving chest, ripples still making their way through your body. Legs twitching as he soothes circles on your thighs.

He chuckles and stands up over you between your still open legs, leaning down on his hands to watch you gasp for air. His eyes are squinted, and his lips are curled up into a satisfied grin watching you with what looks like amusement on his face. 

He leans in and whispers in your ear, "I'd gladly do that every day if you'd let me."

Your eyes finally fix on his and you can't help but giggle a bit at your euphoric feeling. His legs start to move forward, pressing into your thighs, pushing your legs and body up farther on the bed. Before he settles down on his knees reaching down for a kiss, you put your hands up to his chest stopping him.

He tilts his head inquisitively and it’s your turn to smirk. You lift yourself up on the bed to sit upright, legs still spread around him, pushing him down on his heels between you and taking his mouth in another heated kiss.

His lips are soft and slick and feel puffy from all his hard work. You kiss them gently as your hands trail down his chest to his stomach right to the hem of his grey sweats.

His hands come up to trace your sides and then find their place on the side of your breasts thumbing your nipples softly and palming at the smooth skin. A moan hits the back of your throat between your kisses, and you pull back to look up at him, tugging on his sweats for permission to pull them down.

You've spent a lot of time looking at Minho since you've known him. You've seen him without a shirt on before once or twice, albeit briefly. But never in this context - and the way he looks now, in the low lamp light from the corner of the room, looking down at you with a blaze in his eyes and his chest rising and falling in anticipation. You're certain he is the most stunning creature to walk this planet.

He must have seen the reverence in your eyes because he reaches out to push a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles sweetly at you. You have to remind yourself of the task at hand before you get lost appreciating him. You trail your eyes back down to the now extremely noticeable bulge in his pants.

You lick your lips, "May I?" As you go back to tugging on his sweats, mimicking what he asked you earlier.

He laughs, "You may."

You pull them down along with his boxers, freeing his cock from its strain. It bounces heavily right in front of your face, and you swallow eagerly. It shouldn't be a shock to you how pretty it is. The skin looks like velvet, soft pink and perfectly adorned with a few veins tracing the sides creating perfect patterns for you to touch. His length perfect, his thickness mirroring his thighs. You wrap your hand around the base and squeeze.

His body tenses and he sucks in a hiss as you lick his tip, savoring his flavor with your eyes closed, rolling your tongue around in your mouth. You look up at him with big eyes as you wrap your lips around him embracing his warmth on your tongue.

You start slow just as he did with you. Bobbing your head on his tip, whirling your tongue around - appreciating the feeling of his now fully hard cock in your hand. His head falls back for a moment when you take him further then quickly snaps back to watch you. Your eyes crease as you see the haze in his eyes as his hand comes forward to find its rightful place at the back of your neck.

Your stomach flutters at the feeling which drives you to relax your throat and take him as far as you can, only stopping when your breathing is cut off, but you stay and swallow a few times eliciting a deep groan from him. A sound you're sure you've never heard before but crave to hear again.

Pulling back, you take another deep breath, using the slick you've created on him to twist your hand up and down his length, following with your mouth moving your head side to side.

After a while of creating a pace and soaking in all the beautiful moans and gasps coming from his lips, you break it suddenly, thrusting him down your throat to the base again and stopping to look up at him. His lips are almost in a snarl, his teeth gritted, chest heaving. For the first time all night he says your name; not the cute nickname you pretend to hate but fold inwards on yourself every time he speaks it. Your real name, coming out in the most lustful moan.

He pulls your head back with his strong grip on your neck, slowing his breathing, and relaxing his face, looking at you with fire in his eyes.

"You have no idea how crazy you make me feel," he lets out a long shuddering sigh.

"If you don't stop now, I'm not going to last."

Your hand grips his base a little tighter while still holding his gaze, he shakes his head and lets out a weak laugh with a smile on his lips.

"Then you better push me back on this bed, because I don't want to stop," you stick your tongue out and quickly swipe his tip.

You can see his vision go blurry for a second then his attention snaps back, reaching his hands down to your thighs gripping them and pulling them off the bed, your arms instinctively wrap around his neck to steady yourself, as he hoists you up towards the pillow in a flash.

You land on your back surprised but with a smile adorning your face. He steps off the bed and lets his sweats fall to the floor stepping out of them, powerful legs on full display for you. He drops his hand and lazily strokes himself while looking at you on the bed, his eyes all over your body, like he's making a map of it in his mind. Committing every detail to memory.

A mischievous look comes over his face again as he slowly takes a few steps over towards his bag, where you know he slipped the box of condoms in from last night.

"Wait," you squeak out, fast but quiet.

He turns to you with questioning eyes.

"If you don't mind... we can go without. I'm clean." Your eyes fall down a little. "I really want to feel you..." You take a breath and glance back up at him through your eyelashes.

His eyes are soft but serious, and you can see a hint of thrill in them.

"Are you sure?" He asks raising an eyebrow.

Your eyes roll back softly, still with a smile on your face as you sigh, mildly annoyed at his competence in always making sure things are above water and safe. You raise your arm and tap your bicep a few times hoping he gets what that means,

"For fucks sake Lee Minho, yes, I'm sure. Please get over here before I scream," and you flop back against the pillow.

He chuckles softly but wastes no time, practically jumping on the bed between your thighs, plastering himself against the front of your body. Your lips meet again, and he cages you in with his forearms on both sides of your head. You share a few giggles between kisses as you shake off your declaration becoming aware of his weight pouring over you.

He's leaning over you, pressed against you so fiercely, you can feel his cock throbbing against you and your attention quickly pulls to your core. Your heart begins thumping in your chest again and you shudder when he does a tentative roll of his hips, sliding his cock along your wetness. Your lips fall from his as you suck in air. Breathing deep in the stillness of the moment.

He lets his lips trace your jaw, up to your ear and hums before nibbling right below it, still rolling his hip leisurely.

"I've watched your body from afar for so long." He licks your neck raising goosebumps over your arms.

"The way your hair falls delicately on your shoulders." He kisses you there earning a soft moan from you.

"How you always wear the most perfect fitting jeans to show off your curves." He bites into your lower neck sending a ripple through you.

"Your perfect lips saying my name." He kisses you so delicately on your lips that you think you might cry.

"And now your here, under me, and I never want to lose this." He kisses you with more heat and you have never felt more whole, more alive, with sparks coursing through your body, his words filling every crack and fiber of your being.

"Minho..." His name is a whisper between your kisses, and you feel him reach down a hand. He softly rubs the tip of his cock from the bottom up, spreading your wetness around and massaging your clit. Your breath hitches in your throat in anticipation as he captures your mouth in another kiss. Drowning your thoughts.

He pulls away from the kiss and settles his piercing gaze, looking into your eyes as he lines up with your entrance and slowly pushes in. Nothing could have prepared you for how good it feels. His tip pressing in slowly, filling your warmth and stretching you out so perfectly. The intimacy of the moment and his words still lingering in your ears makes your eyes shut, mouth parting as your arms wrap around his waist.

He bottoms out and stays there. All you can hear is both of your breath, lingering in the space between you. Soaking in the feeling of the moment. It feels like pure bliss. But you need more. You clench around him and his breathing stutters for a moment. You open your eyes to see him looking at you with a beautiful half smile on his face.

You smile back and kiss him, gripping his waist urging him to move. He starts to roll his hips in slow drawn-out circles, hitting every space, every inch within you. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly the knot in your stomach tightens, as he finds a steady rhythm, angling his thrust to hit the right spot. Those damn dancers’ hips.

You've been dreaming of this for so long. And now he's here, in your arms, between your legs and inside of you and everything feels right for the first time in forever. You want to take your time, but your body is a traitor and desperate for more. Moving your hips now to meet his thrust, he leans over on one elbow, using his free hand to roam over your body, grabbing at any and all of your skin, picking up his pace.

It seems as though he senses your impatience, because he readjusts, sitting up on his knees more while his hands come down to your hips to pin you to the bed. You had been cautious of your volume for so long now but the sound that escapes you in that moment is inevitable. You reach up to cover your mouth hoping to quell any more sounds, but he quickly pulls it away and pushes it up above your head.

"No, don't be quiet. I need to hear your every sound. Whoever else hears it, had it coming." His concentration is fierce as he says those words to you, making your stomach coil in heat, head rushing, and whimpers fall from your lips.

You’re certain you’ll be slightly embarrassed tomorrow, but your mind quickly pushes those thoughts aside as your need to give him what he wants overpowers everything else. Your moans grow louder, and your repeating his name through choked out breaths. Your hand that's not secured under his tight grip, finds its way to his arm that's now caressing your thigh to trace his skin.

He looks devastatingly elegant yet rugged above you. Chest heaving, eyes trained down towards where you meet in the middle. Where he’s driving into you, straight towards absolute pleasure. He looks up at you eyeing him, licks his lips, and a sly smile paints his features. As if it were even possible, he pushes up closer against you, using his arm to hook under your knee angling your body even more to hit the most perfect spot over and over again.

A wildfire courses through your veins as your eyes roll back, clenching around him again, quickly approaching your release. You can hear his breathing becoming a little more erratic as his hips stutter a few times giving you the knowledge that he’s not far behind. You use your free hand to grab his arm that's holding yours down and pry it away licking and sucking on his fingers quickly before guiding them down between your bodies.

"Touch me," you ask softly.

You can see the wild excitement in his eyes as he starts rubbing your clit in perfect circles with determination. It doesn’t take long before you’re gripping the sheets tightly beside you, arching your back, ready for the wave to crash over you. He sucks in a deep breath hearing you let out a sinful moan as you’re shaking under him and your second ripple of pleasure streaks down your body.

Your legs try to move and tighten him in a vice grip once the over sensitiveness snakes through your thighs, but his hands are quick to act. He slides both his hands up the back of your legs landing in the crook of your knees and pushing them forward towards your chest. Your breath is pushed out of you once his weight is pressed firmly against your front with forearms flat on the bed, caging you in.

His eyes have never looked more powerful, almost as if he's looking straight into the most secret, venerable part of yourself that you didn't even know existed. His mouth parts and his hot breath only feeds your desire to have him closer, stomach still fluttering in the aftershock. Wiggling your arms free you reach out and caress his face, tracing his bottom lip with your thumb before pulling it into your mouth, humming at his delicious sounds and taste.

"Fuck, I'm..." he mumbles into your mouth, but you don't give him a chance to finish his sentence.

"I know. I want it. I want it so bad, please." You lick into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck- feeding your fingers through his hair, gripping him as close as you can. You feel his body tense and eyes go wide at your statement and he's gone. Hissing through his teeth, he picks up pace; his head buried in your neck, teeth latching on for a moment followed by the deepest groan that vibrates through your body.

His warmth radiates through you, pushing himself as deep as he can with each slowing pump, hips flush with your ass as he softly trembles through his release. You slip your hands down his back rubbing soft circles and scratching ever so gently as he pants in your ear.

His hands find your legs again as he guides them down and secures them around his waist, still seated deep within you. Your breathing and heartbeats are still settling together as he turns his head to look at you -

"That was, " he huffs out a few low laughs as a smile forms on his lips, and he kisses your jaw, "I don't think words can describe it." He kisses the side of your lips and neck a few more times as he leans up on one elbow, placing a hand on your waist.

A sense of shyness briefly floods you as you turn your head to the side and cover your lips with the tips of your fingers, blushing slightly. He reaches up and pulls your fingers from your mouth, kissing them lightly. You can see adoration in his eyes as he takes in the pink that has flushed over your cheeks and chest.

"That was long overdue." Your smile is relaxed. Your eyes soft on his. You take your fingers locked with his back towards your mouth and repay the soft kisses.

He looks down between the two of you. Wrapped together, sticking sweetly at the skin touching, and slowly starts to pull his body from yours. As he disconnects from you, a shiver runs down your spine at the lack of contact and he rubs your legs while getting up from the bed.

Once again, you're amazed at his silhouette gracefully making his way over to the wooden shelf, grabbing some wipes and a towel.

Your body lays still for him as he delicately cleans you; tracing your finger tip up and down from your navel to your collarbones, eyes closed, basking in the sweet afterglow of the moment. An hours ago, your thoughts were racing, so many uncertainties in the air. Skin prickling anxiety at unsaid feelings and questions floating behind your eyes. But now that comfortable silence sits in the air between you again.

"Scootch," he giggles, as he jostles you to the side with his knee; he pulls the covers out from under you, climbs in and settles them up over the two of you. He reaches out and nestles you in close, your arms pushed up between your chests, face pressed to the column of his neck. You take a deep breath of him, feeling the sudden weight of sleep and the day settle over your skin.

"Don't keep things from me anymore, ok?" Your mouth is in a straight line, slightly pouted, but your eyes are round and playful as you look up at him.

His face is soft, and you can see a hint of mischief behind his eyes before he closes them, kisses your nose and speaks low but just loud enough for you to hear -

"You're stuck with me now. I'm never letting go."

[signedkoko]

Hi, hello, hey!! I just saw your Mammon x reader who calls him husband sometime and I loved it so much just- chefs kiss! If your willing, maybe a Vox x reader like that?

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which you refer to Vox as your husband, despite the fact that you aren't married. Genderneutral reader.

It was your 7th anniversary, and as per he had planned out a lovely evening for the both of you

He made you breakfast in bed (one for himself too, so you could hang out)

Then you went out for brunch

A 4-hour couple spa retreat

And then he had a stylist ready to pamper you and prepare you for dinner

It was never a simple evening if it was anything important to you, Vox treated you like you'd been married your whole life

He never leaves the honeymoon phase

But at the same time, he's so distracted with the company and how well everything is going that he doesn't really think about change

Change is good, so long as it's for the better, but that's business talk!

The only change he concerns himself with when it comes to you is you being hurt or leaving him

If he can wake up every day by your side to you happy and healthy, then there's nothing to change

Vox gets to the restaurant before you just to make sure everything is perfect

Candles, a fresh bundle of flowers he bought right before, and a spritz of the cologne he knows you adore

When you looked around to find him and he waved you over, you dismissed yourself from the host

" Oh! I see my husband right over there. Thank you! "

As far as he was, he heard every little word

A snap of electricity sparks between his antennae

As you approach him, he is internally saving the audio and replaying it over and over in his head

' Oh! I see my husband—my husband—my husband—my husband— '

" Hell to Vox? "

The audio is turned down, but he's still replaying it as he snaps back to reality, a large grin on his illuminated screen

" Shit! Yeah. Hey, babe, you look amazing! "

Amazing was an understatement, but he was so flustered that you had almost caught him in his embarassing love-sick ways that he couldn't get his charm back on fast enough

Your favourite wine is poured fresh out of the bottle into a chilled glass by his twitching hand, but you're so long in conversation that you don't notice how shaky he is

Internally, he's already browsing for rings and setting up appointments with wedding planners

It's almost as if he just heard you say, 'I do', and there's no braking on this high-speed chase now

Author's Note - I really loved this prompt on Mammon, and it suits Vox a lot too! Thank you so much for requesting, I hope its met your expectations!

[with-my-calamitous-love]

DON’T BRING ME TO TEARS WHEN I JUST DID MY MAKEUP SO NICE !

chuuya nakahara x f! reader

after a long and draining argument, chuuya makes it up to you in between your thighs.

smut! you are responsible for what you read 🪽

inspired by please please please

it was no ones fault, really.

it was one of those arguments that are really an amalgamation of many different things. that unwashed plate, his late nights and your early mornings, the way he brushes his teeth so god damn loud when you’re trying to read. it happens to every couple- not everything is sunshine, and you have to learn to love each other despite the things that may drive you crazy.

this should have been one of those nights. but it wasn’t.

you finally give out, surrendering your yells as the tears choke down your cheeks. he’s rescheduled this anniversary dinner about 6 times now, all due to his lucrative line of work. you were a okay at first, despite the nerve he had to make you call the restaurant almost all those times to cancel and reschedule.

“i feel like i don’t matter to you, chuuya.” you sigh in frustration, wiping away a tear. his eyebrows crease in shared annoyances, mostly towards himself for letting it get to this point. he’s tired, overworked by that jackass mori, and just wants to come home to you and feel your love. but he’s broken his promises, and knows he’s wronged you- despite how cocky he may be.

“i know, i know, i know, doll.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. he hates seeing you cry, and hates knowing he’s the reason why. he hates that the dress you just bought is now wrinkled due to waiting around in the apartment for him, and that your perfect eyeliner and mascara are smudged because of your arguing.

he isn’t even sure why he argued back. he knows he’s a prick that hates being wrong, but he’s also a prick thats head over heels in love with you. he shouldn’t have pushed you to the side, especially on such an important day. his explanations remained the same, but his promises remained broken.

you eventually sigh in defeat, giving up and locking yourself in the bedroom. chuuya resigns to the couch, opening up a bottle of cabernet and filling his glass full. he tosses his hat and his coat aside, loosely undoes his bolo tie and unbuttons his shirts. if you weren’t sobbing over his asshole-like behaviour, you’d get to see his unreasonably toned abs peaking out from his shirt. messy orange hair hangs low from his shoulders, tired and missing you.

a few hours go by. chuuya’s had his fair share of alcohol, but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the subtle click of the bedroom door unlocking.

he hesitantly walks over to the door, creaking it open to see you standing there. his eyes shamelessly roam your body, seeing how you’ve removed the dress and stripped down to just your panties.

“i was just gonna go to sleep.” you sigh. its not like he hasn’t seen every inch of you, anyway.

“wait.” he says, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes. (impressive, considering you’re literally naked in front of him.)

you don’t say anything, but your fingers do interlock with his. it gives chuuya the green light to speak.

“…i’m sorry, doll. i shouldn’t have kept rescheduling and accepting you not to care. you do matter. it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” say what you will about chuuya, but he is a stand up guy. he’ll own up to it, especially if he knows its important to you.

you sigh, your lips curling into a small smile. its hard, damn near impossible to stay mad at him. “please don’t make me call the restaurant again, babe.”

chuuya chuckles, and you can see the remnants of the wine on his lips. he knows you’re only half joking, but he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “no, i have something different in mind.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

chuuya eats pussy like he’s starved.

he drags you to the end of the bed, getting on his knees and places kisses on your innermost corners until your sobbing, begging for him to kiss you. he’ll use his thumbs to spread you open, just admiring the way he gets your fluids dripping down. he’ll spit on your pussy, seeing how it runs down your already gushing core before he finally goes in.

slowly, he’ll sink down between your trembling thighs, his tongue darting out to take that first tantalizing lick. you arch your back at just that light contact, knowing you’ll be in for a long night. his hands grab your hips, blessedly holding you in place while he lavishes your pussy.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby.” he moans against you, closing his eyes and loving how warm and soft you are. he savours this taste likes its the last he’ll ever have. as intimate as the moment is, you both know he’ll fuck his cock into you filthy and fast later- better to enjoy the soft stuff now.

“je pourrais rester ici pendant des heures.” he groans with you, the vibrations sending waves of warm pleasure through your body. it starts from your teary eyes, than to your sensitive breasts, down to your stomach and the finally reaching chuuya in between your thighs. every now and then his eyes will open, looking up to see your flushed pink face, but he doesn’t dare remove his mouth. not until your soaking wet for him.

“chuuya! oh, fuck, please!” you whine, grabbing fistfuls of silky orange hair. he chuckles almost cruely, knowing that he’s not stopping any time soon. he does this just as much for him as he does for you, if not more. he loves the way you moan his name, how your pussy tastes. it makes his cock fill out knowing that he’s the only guy that gets to taste it.

“please what doll? want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing what the answer is. he teases you by slowing down his tongue, only touching your pulsing heat with just the tip of it. you almost cry, begging him to keep going.

“bonne fille, tu as tellement bon goût.” he praises you, wrapping his wine-stained lips around your clit and sucking in a way that gets you sobbing from the pleasure. you want to wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him deeper, but he keeps your legs nice and spread for him. “just like that, doll. god, you’re so pretty like this. can’t wait to fuck you so good later.”

you can feel yourself unraveling, and chuuya knows it. his tongue, lips and teeth move in a messy pattern, making your toes curl deliciously. you’re so close, almost seeing white as you approach your high. he does everything to make it as intense as possible, ending it off with one long stroke from bottom to the tip of your clit.

you wail when you cum, chuuya’s thumb rubbing your clit in circles guiding you through the orgasm. your chest heaves as he moves up higher, placing a kiss on your neck. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make you squirt tonight. just relax.”

safe to say that if chuuya was gonna make you cry, he should do it like this instead.