#forced proximity babe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

catherinnn · 4 months

Note

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

“No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business”

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #enemies to lovers

2K notes · View notes

iamred-iamyellow · 5 days

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Bad Blood

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: franco colapinto x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: tensions started rising in the williams garage when bad strategies pitted you and your teammate, franco against each other. after spotting him in a bar the night of a race the two of you bonded over your shared bad result.

♥ one-shot - wc: 1.6k

♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing, drinking, and vaguely suggestive !!!

♥ a/n: rivals to lovers + forced proximity, go nuts babe. btw there’s some salty team vibes so i just wanna say i love williams (except james) this is purely for the plot lol

“Plan B, Y/n. Plan B,” you engineer said on the radio of your car.

”Is Franco undercutting me?” you asked, shifting down into a corner.

“We think this is the best decision point-wise.”

“You’re joking.”

“Y/n stick to the strategy, you’ll get your time eventually.” they responded.

“No this is bullshit. What advantage are you giving him? He can’t chase down Kmag any better than I can—at least he doesn’t have the pace right now. I don’t see why you’re making him the priority.”

You reached the end of the main straight watching as your teammate exited the pit lane in front of you.

He was on hard tires, an extremely odd choice for the end of this race. You were trying to complete the last 20 laps on softs while your teammate tried to make up positions on the opposite compound. Wait why the fuck would they put him on those tires? If they were aiming for an undercut, they were certainly going to fail with this strategy.

You dove down into the apex and collided with Franco, who was turning in front of you. You both spun out into the gravel, ending your race.

It was always like this. Somehow you always found yourself competing against Franco no matter where you went.

“Fuck,” you yelled on the radio as you threw your HANS device outside of the car.

“Are you okay?” your engineer questioned.

“Yup, yeah I’m fine.” you responded.

The Williams team could hear faint breathing from Franco.

“Is she ok?” he asked.

“Yes, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You scrolled through your phone in your driver's room, coming across a couple of posts about the situation.

@fcswife “is she okay?” FRANCO THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭❤️

@charlesgf16 she really has zero respect for franco huh?

@francodefender1 how could anyone hate him? 😩

You rolled your eyes and clicked off the device, throwing it onto a different cushion on the couch. You were going to need a drink.

Later that night you retreated to a bar you were unfamiliar with. A couple of F2 drivers in your circle mentioned it in passing and considering you couldn't fluently speak the language of the country you were visiting, you hoped to run into a few people you knew.

The room was dark, loud, and packed. You could hear music playing over the sound of dozens of drunk voices. You pushed your way through the crowd of people towards the front of the bar in order to get a drink.

You spotted a familiar face when you arrived. To your dismay it was the only person you wished not to talk to at that moment. His brown curls were immediately identifiable and if that wasn't enough, the fluorescent lighting illuminated his face, drawing your eyes towards the small mole on his cheek.

You looked around for a place to avoid him, but all the booths were taken and the only open bar stool was the one next to Franco.

Because of course it was.

You sighed and took the seat next to him, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact.

"A bottle of Dom Perignon please," you asked, causing Franco to snort.

“What?” you shifted your gaze towards him.

“Champagne is for winners,” he said, looking you straight in the eye.

It wasn’t like he was incorrect. Champagne was for the podium—but you had a long day and it was time to treat yourself. Regardless, you rolled your eyes at the man’s comment.

Franco waved over the bartender to get a glass and help himself to the bottle of alcohol.

“You can venmo me,” you said only half joking as he poured himself some champagne.

A small tv in the corner of the bar had a replay of the race and press.

”There were a lot of emotions definitely, uhm I think the decisions tire wise for the strategy weren’t great. It’s frustrating to see the prioritization of your teammate but I guess I have no input on whether that goes to me or Franco each race. We had a rough week overall as a team but I hope we can bounce back.”

“As much as I hate to agree with you… you were right. Both our strategies were fucked.” he said referencing your post race interview, “They screwed us both.”

The two of you never really got along, but at least neither blamed each other for the crash. It was just a racing incident and it didn’t have to prevent you from finally having a civil conversation with Franco.

“To screwing us both,” you smiled while raising your glass of champagne, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

He clinked his cup to yours with a smirk and took a small sip.

From that point on your distaste for him slowly started to die down and you began to have a mutual understanding.

The next race went over far smoother than the last. Franco ended up in P5 with you right behind him in P6; an incredible result for the two of you and the team.

You jumped out of your car and strolled your way over to his. The camera picked up on you patting his helmet and mumbling something.

Of course this was going to be all your media feed would show for the next few days.

That night you found yourself at a far more tame pub than the last.

“From the gentleman across the bar,” a server said, causing you to look up from your phone and towards the direction he was pointing.

Franco was leaning against the counter with a grin. He raised his eyebrows quickly and waved.

You took a sip of the cold blue drink in front of you and waved back. His eyes stayed locked on you as you pulled out your phone and unblocked a number.

You

is there red bull in this?

+1800******

yea

You got a text back immediately, prompting you to change the contact name.

You

i think that’s a sin

Franco

oh?

You

yea if i can’t drive it i shouldn’t be drinking it

Franco

i guess it’s too bad williams doesn’t make energy drinks

You

come sit with me

Tensions were still high on track between the two of you but the minute race weekend was over it was like someone flipped a switch.

A few weeks flew by and people started to notice your behavior towards Franco. By now there were probably dozens of pictures of you looking very cozy together at parties, but not getting along at the circuits or simply ignoring each other in the paddock.

Of course people were getting suspicious. Maybe this was a ruse to keep your relationship a secret? Maybe it was all staged for Netflix. Or maybe—you two didn’t really know what you were.

“Che,” a voice called out to you in spanish, instantly grabbing your attention.

You spotted Franco in a booth at the back of the club. It was far darker in that corner, but with the flashing lights and loud music you were glad he picked a more secluded area.

The building was full with the familiar faces of drivers and team members.

”Look at you,” he said, impressed.

You laughed and did a small spin, showing off your dress. You knew he’d liked it and by the memory you had earlier this evening, it seemed as though a lot of people would.

”Another date with Franco, huh?” Kika smirked while putting on some dangly earrings. “It’s not a date,” you protested. She spun her body around to face you. “This,” she gestured to your outfit. “Is for a date.”

You slid into the booth next to him, setting your black clutch purse beside you.

Franco’s hand firmly grabbed your thigh to steady himself as he shifted closer towards you. Your eyes darted down to the action but he didn’t seem to notice. His grip loosened as he settled and he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

A small hum escaped your lips, barely audible over the music and voices, but there was no way in hell your soft noises wouldn’t catch his attention.

”¿Esto está bien?” (is this ok?) he asked in a whisper, causing you to only nod.

His face moved closer to yours, and you wasted no time cupping his cheeks in your hands, and connecting your lips.

You melted into the kiss knowing damn well you daydreamed about this an embarrassing amount.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, tasting the gloss you applied earlier. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance and he dragged his fingertips further up the inside of your thigh.

Franco moved down to your neck leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His index and middle fingers brushed the lace of your lingerie, causing him to smirk against you.

“Stand up,” he demanded. He slipped out of the booth and pulled you onto your feet. You grabbed your clutch as he guided you through the crowd, hand-in-hand.

He opened the chiming door and the two of you stepped onto the wet cobblestone. Your heels clicked on the ground as he guided you to his car in the rain.

He pulled open the passenger seat door for you.

“Wow, we weren’t even in there a couple of minutes,” you stated.

“I think we’ve had enough time to talk… quiero llevarte a casa…” (i want to take you home) he leaned down and mumbled to you.

“O en este caso mi hotel,” (or in this case my hotel) “unless you’d rather go back inside..” he trailed off.

You shook your head in protest to his last works and a light chuckle slipped through his lips.

”Alright then,” he smirked, getting into the drivers seat.

#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 ౨ৎ #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto x y/n #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fic #fornula one fic #formula one fanfic #f1 one shot

408 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 6 months

Note

steve finds out reader hasn’t slow danced with a guy before… like maybe she never went to prom with a date and he makes it really sweet for her

when steve finds out you've never slow danced with anybody, he takes it as a challenge (fluff, established relationship, 0.8k)

Languishing on Steve Harrington’s couch, you rest your full weight against his shoulder like you’re trying to melt with him there. You vaguely hear him shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth while you stare unblinking at the black-and-white film playing ahead of you.

“Slow dancing is, like… really weird,” you observe in a quiet murmur, features all twisted in confusion.

“Whaddaya mean?” the boy beside you wonders through his mouthful.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a lazy shrug. “It’s just, like… swaying in place… really awkwardly.”

“It doesn’t have to be awkward.”

You wave your hand at the television across the room, where a couple of Old Hollywood actors dance like both of them’s caught the plague. “Look at that and tell me that’s not awkward!” you argue and turn your chin to look at him.

Your faces are much closer than you thought. The tip of your nose threatens to brush the chiseled bridge of his. The proximity leaves you wishing it had.

Steve scoffs with a boyish scrunch to his features. “Well, those two have, like, zero chemistry! You gotta slow dance with someone you like, you know? Like, really like,” he explains, gesturing wildly with his hand and jostling you slightly in the process. “Then you got yourself a good time, alright? You’re pressed all close, holding each other’s hands, dancing through the sexual tension—”

“It’s weird,” you insist with a scrunched nose.

“It’s nice!”

“Let’s just agree to disagree,” you shrug.

Steve shakes his wild head and shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Yeah, I can’t do that,” he says, muffled through the food in his cheek.

You snort a quiet laugh in return.

“So you’re saying you’ve never slow danced with someone before?” he wonders with his mouthful, then swallows. “Like, ever?”

Your face scrunches like it’s obvious. “No.”

“Not even at prom?”

“I didn’t have a date at prom!”

“I didn’t either!” he tells you, which you think is only half a lie. Nancy had just broken up with him then — whether he was too heartbroken or too lazy to find another date is still up in the air, really.

Your eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “The entire female class of 1985 was your prom date.”

“I’m just sayin’,” he insists, laughing quietly to himself. “You’re missin’ out here, babe.”

You scoff and reach for the bowl in his lap, stealing a handful of room-temperature popcorn for yourself. “Yeah, I don’t know about that.”

—————

The sound of vintage violins swells distantly in the otherwise quiet house as the film credits roll. Lit only by the amber stove light, you dump uneaten and unpopped kernels into the trashcan in the kitchen. A record crackles in the room over. A song floats gently on the midnight air.

Everybody loves somebody sometime…

Everybody falls in love somehow…

Your brows furrow when Steve appears in the doorway, rocking his hips back and forth and snapping his fingers to the languid beat. He sings the words quietly to himself, hardly trying but still sounding sort of decent anyway. “Something in your kiss just told me... My sometime… Is now…”

“What are you doing?” you wonder aloud, biting back a chuckle.

“Dancing,” the boy answers.

Your brows furrow as he approaches you — hips still swaying, fingers still snapping. “…By yourself?” you question slowly.

He cages his plush bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head. With wide, warm palms, he smooths his hands over your sides. “Mm-mm,” he hums and squeezes your hips. “With you.”

His touch urges you to sway alongside him, but you tense almost immediately — a virtually immovable force. “No, Steve!” you scold through giggles, shoving him away with a halfhearted hand. “Steve, don’t!”

“C’mon!” he shouts over your protests as his chuckles entwine with your own. “Just dance with me! It’s not gonna kill ya!”

You make a faint grumbly noise of disapproval but don’t fight about it any further. With your face still scrunched in a childlike pout, you let him take one of your hands into his larger one and rest your other against his chest. With a palpable hesitance, you follow his subtle side-to-side movements.

Something in my heart keeps saying…

My someplace is here…

“This is so cheesy,” you giggle to yourself.

“But it’s nice, right?” Steve presses with raised brows.

Rogue chestnut hairs fall over his forehead, and you fight the urge to push them back. Your nose scrunches in a silent answer, and he laughs. You can feel the golden sound rumble in his chest.

“You don’t have to say anything… I know you like it.”

You roll your eyes at his smug grin. “Only ‘cause you’re such a good dance partner,” you tease with a knowing squint in your eyes.

His gaze swims with honey as his rosy lips quirk in a lopsided smile. “Don’t make me blush,” he jokes in a quiet murmur, already leaning down to kiss you.

Steve swallows your laughter with a pink, petaled mouth pressed against your lips — tasting faintly of popcorn, cheap beer, and adoration.

The song crackles quietly through it all.

—And although my dream was overdue…

Your love made it well worth waiting…

For someone like you…

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #stevie drabble

909 notes · View notes

infictionalwonderland · 4 months

Note

Hiii, not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this, but could you do Eloise Bridgerton with a fem! royal! reader who is completely smitten with Eloise and is very open about being a lesbian? And her family supports her (shes Queen Charlottes favorite niece)

(they are open! and absolutely i can do this for you babe x)

“She’s here!”

The Queen, your aunt, rolled her eyes fondly at you as you scuttled away hastily—a secret smile pulling at her lips at the sheer happiness on your face.

You waded through the mass of people in the ballroom, a smile practically stretching from ear to ear. Some turned to look and curled their lips in disgust at you, knowing very well who you were walking to. Others looked at the raw joy on your face and smiled with you.

You stopped a bit away from your girl and her family, taking the time to admire her. Her hair was in a ponytail of curls with two pulled out the side and her fringe framing her face—lips a soft ruby and skin sparkling under the light. She was dressed in a soft mint green dress, a delicate necklace adorning her neck and resting on her chest, her arms covered with long gloves.

(You were in love)

“Ah.” Daphne spoke first, as she saw you. Her lips curled into a secret smirk, clasping onto her husbands arm and hiding her face half behind his bicep to conceal herself.

Simon looked down at her fondly, eyes practically glimmering.

“Hello Bridgertons.” You beamed genuinely, all the family returning your expression with equal truth.

As you had done her, Eloise could not help but stare at you in awe. Your skin looked glowy and wonderfully soft under the lightening, your smile the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen—eyes squinted with the force of it. Your dress was otherworldly, although to her, anything you wore would be and she just wanted to run her fingers through your hair.

“How do you all find yourself fairing tonight?”

“Yes, yes, very good. Blah—blah.” Benedict immediately waved the question away with an easygoing smile, gently taking his sisters arm and pushing her towards you. “We know which Bridgerton you are truly here fo.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

Eloise flustered, unused to such attention but you smirked back at Benedict. The whole family watched with smiles on their faces as their stone cold Eloise who detested marriage and had no true belief in love, melted against you as you took her hand, staring at you with wonder in her eyes.

“I’m beginning to realise it was never love she loathed—“ Anthony mumbled to Kate at his side, “just men.”

“Yes, and who can fault her that?” Kate questioned, head tilted.

All smiles, you looped your arm through Eloise’s and the both of you gracefully walked off—well, you glided effortlessly, from years of training and Eloise’s steps were harsh and careless against the floor, an endearing sense of her own unique grace about her.

“How are you today, Miss Bridgerton?” You smiled at her cheekily, eyes twinkling in a way that immediately disarmed her.

“I—yes, I am quite well, thank you.” Eloise stumbled, a fluttering feeling settling deep within her stomach, heart spiking as she was unable to look away from your eyes. “And yourself, your—your grace?”

“I could be your grace if you would like.” You emphasised pointedly, a mischievously sweetened smile curving at lips. You snatched a flute of alcohol from a passing servers platter, daintily looking into the eyes of the woman you admired.

She gulped slightly, a charmed blush warming her skin.

“I’ve had a genial day so far, my lady.” You giggled softly. “Although it has become all the more enjoyable when graced with your wondrous presence.”

“I can say much the same for myself.” Eloise rushed out genuinely, a smile at her lips as your eyes sparkled in response. “I find being in your proximity a most precious experience.”

“Perhaps you should venture in closer,” you offered almost offhandedly, taking another sip from your flute as you observed her, “you discover that to be an even more precious time.”

Eloise laughed a tad too loudly, nerves escaping her, but—with a timid smirk curving into her plush mouth, she edged closer towards you.

“And?” You encouraged amusedly, smiling.

“I—Your presence is even more powerful from here.” She grinned crookedly, “perhaps a tad too powerful—“ she joked, moving to take a teasing few paces away.

Your gloved hand caught her own and you both breathed in sharper at the contact. Without taking your eyes from hers, you traced almost absently on the silk material and she shallowly breathed in, feeling the sensations of your touch as though they were against her bare skin.

“Stay close, please.” You simply stated, tugging her back towards you gently. “If you would like.”

“I would like very much.”

You raised an amused eyebrow at her immediate reply and she battled back embarrassment as she made direct eye contact you, unabashed in the truth of her words.

“Your Grace, you look enchanting tonight.” Eloise complimented truthfully, admiring you. “I am only disheartened I have to share this awe-inspiring view with others.”

“You could admire me further in private, if you simply ask to do so.” You shrugged, a smirk on your lips.

Eloise blinked innocently, narrowing her eyes (cutely) as she attempted to recognise the hidden meaning—your words and tone making her feel warm all over.

She was about to open her mouth to adhere to your request when another approached.

“Your Grace,” a well dressed man you did not know walked to you both, bowing to you deeply while staring. “Lady Bridgerton.” He shortly acknowledged.

“It is indeed a pleasure.” Eloise muttered with a tight, bitter smile as she stepped closer to you—feeling dismay at how this man was staring at you.

“Quite.” He agreed, still gazing at you. “It has come to my attentions that your dance card is still empty, Your Grace—“

“Is it?” You interrupted, tilting your head innocently. “Allow me.” You implored to him, holding you hand out for his quill that a man was required to bring, to scribe on a lady’s dance card.

He blinked, a smirk crawling to rest on his mouth as he wielded to you his quill. You took it and immediately turned to Eloise, who grinned crookedly at you when you extended your wrist to her with the man’s quill.

The gent sputtered and flailed usefully in your peripherals but you could frankly give less of a shirt—staring at Eloise as she gently clasped your wrist in her hand, writing hurriedly onto your dance card with a triumphant grin upon her lips.

Fuck. You wanted to kiss her.

“This—this is hardly—“

“Enough? I do quite agree.” You aunt announced as she made her rare appearance on the ballroom floor, glowering superiorly at this unknown man. “I will organise more dances for you and your beloved. Now, shoo, shoo.” She turned to you, ushering you to the floor as a new dance began, a secret wink shot at you.

You and Eloise clasped hands, running away and towards the rest of the couples, giggling like children as you left the treacherous man with your darling aunt.

“You are a marvel.” Eloise laughed out softly, cheeks burning with joy, eyes crinkled as you stood across from one another—curtsying to each other. “I could not have asked for a better partner—in well, everything.”

“Oh, El.” You beamed, an enamoured giggle leaving your throat. “Believe me, it is I who is the lucky one.”

“Rubbish.” She rolled her eyes playfully, “never had I envisioned, even in my wildest fantasies, that—that I could. . would feel this way for another. But, you have invoked such—such emotion in me, it is almost a miracle.” Eloise laughed sheepishly. “You are not only angel in beauty and mind alike, you are also a miracle worker. . Are you not simply all a woman could ever want?”

“If you insist, Lady Bridgerton—“ You grinned widely, shrugging playfully at her.

You both laughed together, garnering sneers and smiles alike, although none of it was noticed. Lost in your own little bubble, hearts and butterflies practically fluttering around the pair of you.

In a spur of the moment, you decided to break from the traditional dance, pulling Eloise impossibly close to you before twirling her out—her dress billowing: she yelped in shock before you were both laughing giddily, others on the dance floor stumbling in bewilderment.

All eyes were on you both but you could not care, did not notice. You spun Eloise around before twirling her back to your front, swinging her playfully as she laughed loudly and you grinned uncontrollably down at her.

The sudden lack of chatter caused your shared laughter to slowly die out, looking about only to realise all eyes were on you both.

People blinked owlishly at the pair of you and you could feel Eloise begin to tense defensively before a sharp whistling erupted—followed by whoops and claps.

Everyone turned to see Benedict, fingers to his lips as he whistled uproariously. Kate was whooping and cheering happily, smiling ear to ear and Anthony, arm around her waist, was following her lead. Violet was politely clapping, a barely noticeable sheen of happy tears at her eyes at seeing her daughter to happy—Lady Danbury at her side, was applauding wholeheartedly as well. Colin was grinning, cheering—Penelope at his side was similarly expressing. Daphne and Simon were clapping loudly: The Queen, back on her platform, was engaging in a secret applause of her own, concealing her smile with Brimsley at her back doing the same.

Eloise and You blinked.

“Yes, yes!” Eloise snapped over the cheering, concealing her own smile and touched emotions. “We are quite besotted, thank you all for noticing, if you could return to your prior engagements that would sincerely appreciated.” She shouted, glaring at everyone.

The people of the ton twitched and blinked and fumbled in fear of the Bridgerton girl, returning to what they were doing—some sneaking looks back at you both.

When Eloise turned back to you in a pouty huff, you were beaming at her, mischief in your eyes.

“Besotted—?”

“Shut up!”

As your combined laughs echoed beautifully once again, all the Bridgertons and their extended family traded genuine smiles.

Their Eloise was incredibly happy, so it seemed: as were you.

#eloise bridgerton imagine #eloise bridgerton x reader #eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #wlw #benedict bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton imagine

967 notes · View notes

birdiewriteslit · 4 months

Text

“secret keeping”

trevor zegras x f!hughes!reader

masterlist

part 2 to “caught”

summary: you and trevor got off easy after jack caught you together. it wasn’t hard to keep things on the down low for your other two brothers, but when summer rolls around and you’re all in the same house, it becomes more challenging.

THIS TOOK ME FOREVER OMG.

warnings: kissing, suggestive themes, teeny bit of angst, fluff, big brother quinn

It had been nine months since you and Trevor got together. For three of those months, Jack has known about your relationship.

You elected him as secret keeper, mainly because he was the only candidate, and if you gave it a fancy name, he would be more inclined to shut his mouth.

It worked pretty well. With hockey to keep Jack occupied, he didn’t have much of an issue with keeping the secret to himself.

When the season was over, however, it got a little tougher for him to keep quiet. He was constantly calling you up to ask if he could tell Luke, which you always denied. You were glad Quinn was in Vancouver for the time being, and not in close vicinity to Jack, because you knew that if he was, Jack would cave almost immediately.

So, this was a problem, as you would all be in very close proximity to each other for the summer.

You got to the house later than everyone else, so late, in fact, that it was dark out and the boys had a fire going out back.

You set your things down in your room before throwing on a hoodie and heading outside. They sat around the fire, talking amongst themselves. “Hey, boys,” you said, announcing your presence.

Trevor, who hadn’t seen you in a few weeks, grinned widely at your appearance and stood from his chair. He ignored the sounds of his friends greeting you as he made his was towards you.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, closing his eyes as he inhaled the scent of you. You embraced him, semi-awkwardly as you watched Jack’s jaw basically drop from over Trevor’s shoulder.

You were the one to pull away, giving him a friendly punch on the arm. You gave him a warning look that said, ‘Remember where we are.’

Jack stood up next, hugging you and whispering in your ear, “That was one steamy hug.” He giggled as he pulled away, allowing Luke and Quinn to hug you next.

You greeted the other guys more casually with just a wave and sat down in the chair across from Trevor between Luke and Quinn.

“So, Y/n, any new installments in your life?” Jack asked, hiding his mischievous smile by taking a sip of his beer.

“What?” you said.

“Anything interesting going on?”

“Uh, work. And school,” you said, subtly glaring at him.

“No new men?” he asked innocently.

“Why are you so interested, freak?” you deflected.

Jack shrugged, a stupid grin on his face. “Just wondering.”

Quinn gave you and Jack an odd look before moving the conversation along. You were thankful to move on, and Trevor, who was making a show of counting stars, was surely thankful too.

Later that night, Trevor snuck out of his room and made his way down the hall to yours. When you let him in, his lips were on yours as soon as the door was closed.

His mouth moved against yours hungrily, his arms making their way around your waist as he guided you backward onto the bed.

The mattress hit your legs and made you sit. Trevor was bending down to kiss you, his hands moving to hold your face.

You held onto his forearms, forcing yourself to pull away and catch your breath. He leaned his forehead against yours as he caught his.

“I missed you, so much,” Trevor said. His hands still rested on your face, which was burning at this point.

“I know, I missed you too.” You guided his hands away from your face, holding them in your lap. He rose to his full height, looking down at you with a soft smile. “But, Trev, you gotta tone it down in front of the guys.”

Trevor rolled his eyes. “It was just a hug, babe.”

“Uh, to quote Jack it was ‘one steamy hug,’” you said.

“‘M sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” Trevor moved one hand out of yours and pushed some of your hair away from your face. “I just missed you. I forgot everyone else was there for a second.”

“It’s okay. I know you don’t like keeping this between us,” you said, feeling a little guilty.

Trevor shook his head. “No, baby. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll tell everyone else. I know you like things private.”

“My brothers are so fucking nosy. I have to.” You looked down at the floor, fidgeting with his fingers.

He laughed. “They are so fucking nosy. Of course, I want to let everyone know you’re mine. I want to be able to look in the stands and see you wearing my jersey. I want to be able to have my arm around you when we’re with your family. I want to be able to post you and to be seen with you. I want all of that, but I get that you’re not ready for it yet. In the meantime, I’m fine with this.”

He leaned down again to kiss you again, bringing his hand back up to your face as you held his other one. You leaned into his touch, pulling back after a moment.

You looked up into his blue eyes. He looked sleepy, the hood of his sweatshirt was up and, from under it, his hair was strewn across his forehead.

“Just give me a few more weeks to think about it, then we can talk, yeah?”

He grinned. “Sounds good, baby.”

He then practically tackled you onto the bed, pulling you on top of him. You tried to contain your giggles, not wanting anyone to wake up.

You rested your head on his chest, your arms wrapped around each other. He grabbed your blanket and placed it on top of you. You fell asleep like that.

The next morning, you woke up beside Trevor, his arm resting over your stomach as he laid on his and drooled into the pillow. You watched him sleep for a minute, his back rising and falling with each breath he took.

You turned over and picked up your phone, seeing that it was nine in the morning. Usually the boys slept in, but this was the first day at the lake, and they would want to get a head start on the day.

You heard voices from down the hall and begrudgingly got out of bed, gently lifting Trevor’s arm off of you.

You left him alone in the room, letting him get some more sleep. Walking into the kitchen, you greeted Jack, who sat at the island, sipping his coffee.

Cole was at the counter, pouring himself a cup. He saw you walk in and he grabbed you a mug and poured some for you too.

“Thanks, king.” You leaned against the counter as you drank it. Cole nodded before going to sit beside Jack.

Trevor walked in a few minutes later, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He passed by you to the coffee maker, his hand grazing against your stomach. You knew he did it on purpose, based on the way he smirked at you over his mug.

“Hey, man, I woke up this morning and you weren’t in the room. Where’d you go?” Cole asked.

Jack choked on his coffee and coughed violently, pounding his fist on his chest until he recovered.

Cole gave him a look before glancing back at Trevor. You and Trevor made eye contact, and he seemed to connect the dots.

“You!” He pointed at Trevor. “You sister fucker!”

“Jesus, Cole, what’s wrong with you?” you said, your face heating up. You were praying nobody else heard that.

“He’s a traitor,” Cole said, looking at Jack. “This is treason. She’s off limits.”

“Do you idiots actually talk about this?” You said, rolling your eyes.

“Uh, yeah, the first time I met you, I was actually threatened by Jack,” Coke explained. “Which brings me to my next point, did you know about this? How are you okay with this?”

Jack shrugged. “I would’ve liked if he asked for my blessing first, but there’s not a whole lot I can do about it now.”

“For the record,” Trevor cut in. “She came onto me first.”

You smacked him on the arm. “Shut up. We’re not talking about this anymore. Cole, keep your lips zipped. Nobody else can know.”

Cole protested weakly as you left the room. “But there’s so much that I don’t know! You can’t just leave it like that.”

You did leave it like that. You walked back into your room, changing into a different outfit and getting ready for the day, trying to forget about the whole thing.

As you were brushing your teeth, your phone started ringing. You spit out your toothpaste, accepted the call, and put it on speaker, not bothering to look at the caller ID. “Hello?”

“Y/n!” A high voice came from the other side of the phone.

“Oh, hi, mom.” You walked out of the bathroom into the room, seeing Trevor laying on the bed on his phone.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating Trevor?”

Your eyes blew wide and you almost threw the phone across the room. Trevor’s head snapped up from the bed.

You checked to make sure she didn’t switch it to FaceTime and saw him on the bed, and sure enough she didn’t. “Who said that?” you laughed nervously.

“Your brother! Jack left me a voicemail last night. He said he just had to tell somebody. How long have you been keeping this from us?”

“Uh, it’s coming up on 10 months,” you said as nonchalantly as possible. Of course Jack told your mom. You were going to kill him.

“Ten months?” She shouted. “If I could ground you, I would. You could’ve brought him to Christmas! Why didn’t you tell anyone? We all love him.”

You sighed loudly. “Quinn and Luke don’t know. Don’t tell them. I kept it a secret because I wanted some privacy. They have literally never been normal about me dating, and they’d be even worse if they knew about Trevor.”

She sighed. “It’s only because they love you. I respect your privacy, but you should’ve told me about this sooner.”

You bit the inside of your lip, looking guiltily at Trevor. “I know. I’m sorry. It got away from me.”

“That’s alright, honey. Call me back later and tell me everything. I want all the details,” she said excitedly before hanging up.

You groaned, flinging yourself onto the bed next to Trevor. “This could not get any worse. She definitely told my dad. He’s not weird like my brothers but he’s gonna embarrass me next time he sees you.”

“I would never find anything about you embarrassing.” Trevor said, setting his phone down and reaching out to play with the strings of your bikini. “It’s not the end of the world. We were talking about telling people last night.”

“I know, but I wanted a few more weeks of just us.”

“And Jack,” he added.

“Yeah, and Jack,” you said distastefully.

Throughout the next week, you had to resist the urge to beat the crap out of your brother. You tried drowning him in the lake the day that your mom called you, but he was a damn good swimmer, and he threatened to yell out the secret to everyone on the boat.

Jack never missed a chance to make fun of you or borderline expose you to everyone. He and Cole had a blast with blackmailing you. At least your brother had one person he could talk to about it. As long as it kept everyone else in the dark, you could do with the terrorization.

Cole didn’t tell anyone Trevor slept in your room every night, but he sure did tease you about it. It was getting annoying, really, and you were starting to care less and less about where you were seen and what you were seen doing.

With the few people who knew already, and your mother practically planning your wedding, you were seriously considering letting it all slip one day.

You were probably going to tell everyone soon enough. You knew Trevor was tired of it. He was only doing it for you.

The two of you managed kept up the charade in front of the boys, although he had a tendency to get a little handsy at times. It was very hard for him to keep his hands off of you when you couldn’t have sex often due to the chance of someone overhearing.

You were on the couch with him one day, the others out on a boat ride. You two stayed behind to watch the season finale of a show you both liked.

Well, you were watching it. Now, you were making out. You were on top of Trevor, straddling him and grabbing onto the back of the couch for balance.

He was holding onto your hips, his hand occasionally roaming to squeeze your ass. His lips were hot and rough on yours. He already took your shirt off, the heat being too much for you.

You hands slipped under the fabric of his shirt, silently urging him to take it off. You got lost in the feeling of his warm skin against your fingers.

You heard a crash and a very loud, “What the fuck?”

You lifted your head off of Trevor’s and spotted Luke over the coach, his mouth wide open and his plate shattered on the floor.

“Put your damn shirt on.” He begun picking up bits and pieces of the plate.

“Jesus Christ, Luke. I thought you were on the boat.” You grabbed your shirt from beside you. Trevor made a noise when your leg dragged across his crotch as you got off of him. He covered it with his hand and his face with his hat.

“I wanted to watch this too. Thanks for ruining it. Just because everyone is gone doesn’t mean you can defile the couch like this,” Luke said, completely ignoring Trevor and focusing on you. “Quinn’s gonna kill him.”

“Well good thing Quinn doesn’t know, right?” you said warningly.

“Of course, but if he were to find out. . .”

“I’d kill you, then. Don’t be a menace.”

“Don’t fuck on the couch, fucking freaks,” Luke scoffed, and headed outside, saying nothing more about it.

“He didn’t seem to care much,” Trevor muttered.

“He doesn’t care. He just likes to terrorize me. You wouldn’t take him for the demon the he is with how quiet he is all the time, but he’s the fucking devil, so watch out. It’s why I didn’t want to tell him.” You thought back to the time where he “accidentally” pushed your ex boyfriend down the stairs in high school. It’s safe to say that you didn’t want to relive that.

“Well, he certainly knows now,” Trevor said. “That’s two out of three brothers and probably the rest of the house at this point.”

“I’ll tell Quinn soon, just not today,” You promised. “And preferably not when you’re within close proximity to him.”

For the next couple of days, it became clear that Trevor was right. The whole house knew except for big brother Quinn.

They weren’t being super subtle about it either, but good thing Quinn wasn’t great at picking up hints.

You and Trevor were getting sloppy with hiding it since you didn’t have to fake anything in front of most of the guys, but when Quinn was in the room, things were tense between you, but very enjoyable for your other two brothers to watch.

Three days after Luke caught you on the couch, you were all on the boat going for a sunset cruise.

You kept up steady conversation about this and that. Trevor was telling a story that you weren’t really listening to until you heard him say your name.

“So then Y/n was all like ‘What’s the deal with this shit?’ and I was like ‘I have no fucking clue,’”

“Wait a minute,” Quinn interrupted, lifting a hand from the steering wheel. “Why was Y/n in Anaheim? I thought she was with her friends for spring break that week.”

Your heart literally dropped to your ass. This was not how you wanted Quinn to find out. You wanted to sit him down in a space away from Trevor and break the news to him delicately. Not on a boat that he was driving in the middle of the lake.

Trevor stared at him before stuttering out an excuse. “Uh, she wasn’t. I was wherever she was and we ran into each other.”

“She was in Cabo. You said this happened at Disney Land. You’re talking about a Minnie Mouse parade. Are you on something?”

Jack was looking at you like your hair was on fire and Luke was staring at the floor. The rest of the boys were pretending like this wasn’t happening and distracting themselves with miscellaneous objects on the boat.

“I’m not on anything. I’m stone cold sober.”

Nice one, Trevor.

“Y/n, why were you in Anaheim with him?” Quinn asked calmly.

You were about to speak when you made eye contact with Jack (who looked like he might explode), and he took the liberty of doing it for you.

“They’ve been together for basically a year, and a few months ago I caught them together, and now everyone knows but you, and it’s been really stressing me out,” he said quickly.

“Oh my god, Jack, you can’t keep anything to yourself!”

“Everybody knows!” he protested.

“He doesn’t!”

The boat was approaching the dock, and Quinn didn’t say anything as he lined it up. “I don’t care who you date, Y/n. Just be responsible.”

“You really don’t care?” You were a little bewildered that he was so chill.

“Nah,” He said, looking over you, making sure that Luke was ready to jump off and tie it up.

Once the boat was secure, you all filed out onto the dock.

“Trevor, come here for a second,” Quinn said.

Trevor looked at you and you nodded. “I’ll be in the house,” you said, gesturing to the guys who were almost there.

Quinn wasted no time walking right up to Trevor and shoving him off the dock. He landed in the water with a big splash and resurfaced looking shocked with his hair in his eyes.

Your mouth fell open and Quinn brushed past you on the dock. “Quinn! What the hell?”

“I thought Jack told him to stay away from you. Guess he’s not too smart if he can’t do that.” He didn’t look at you, continuing to the house.

“Quinn, stop!” He did, and he turned around. He looked angry. “I’m the one who wanted to keep it a secret this whole time, don’t blame him.”

“Seriously, Y/n, you could’ve chosen any man in the world to be with, and that’s your pick?”

“It’s not my fault! I really didn’t mean to!”

“That’s reassuring,” Trevor muttered, grabbing onto the dock and hoisting himself up, rolling onto his back. He coughed a few times before getting up and grabbing a towel from the boat.

Trevor tried walking past Quinn but he grabbed his arm. “If I hear one complaint from her about you, when I shove you in the lake, I’ll make sure you drown.”

Trevor nodded. “You got it, boss.” He ran into the house, catching up with Jack and Cole, who were trying very hard not to laugh at him.

You sighed, watching him go. “You didn’t have to do that, Quinn.”

“No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t have to if I knew about it sooner.” He paused, running a hand over his face as he thought of what to say. “You should’ve told me. I thought we agreed you could trust me with anything.”

“I do trust you, Quinn, but you guys always do this. You, Luke, and Jack always give the guys I date shit and it never works out. Pretty much every one of my exes broke up with me because they were scared of you three, as fucking stupid as that is,” you confessed. “I didn’t want it to happen with Trevor. You don’t get it. He’s different.”

Quinn looked you up and down, taking in the look on your flushed face. “You love him.”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’ll back off,” he said earnestly. “There are worse guys that you could be with.”

“That’s true,” you agreed. “So, are we good?”

“If you’ll let us be.”

You nodded. “Of course. Let’s go inside now, Quinny.”

He followed you into the living room where everyone else was, they all tried to act like they weren’t paying attention. Trevor stood from the couch, looking at Quinn before looking at you.

“We’re all good,” you said. “He’s not gonna harass you, don’t worry.”

“I will if she wants me to, so watch out,” Quinn said.

Trevor grinned as Quinn came over to shake his hand. Jack snorted and tried to cover it up with a cough.

Quinn took Trevor’s spot on the couch and you nodded your head toward your bedroom. Trevor followed you there, ignoring the whistles from the boys.

He shut the door behind him, letting the towel he was using drop to the floor. He hugged you, getting your coverup wet as his damp curls tickled your neck.

“Free at last,” he murmured into your skin, making you giggle.

“Okay, get off. You smell like the lake, you gotta shower.” You pushed his chest away from you.

He grinned mischievously. “Only if you shower with me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that made its way across your face as he reached under your coverup to pull at your bikini strings. “I don’t see why not.”

#birdiewriteslit #birdiewritesfics #nhl fic #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #nhl #trevor zegras oneshot #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras #trevor zegras blurb #tz11 #jack hughes #quinn hughes #luke hughes #hockey imagine #trevor zegras x you #trevor zegras x y/n

425 notes · View notes

xx-like-a-villian-xx · 7 months

Text

I'd Love To Watch

You’re forced to share a room with Noah and he wonders what book you’re reading.

This one is for all my dark romance reading babes, stay slay 🥀

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, (I have so many WIPs)

CW: one bed trope (ugh my fave), mentions of dark romance, fingering, Noah is a MUNCH, squirting, forced proximity (let me know if I need to add any more)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, staring at the second suitcase in the bedroom that you called dibs on when you arrived at the Airbnb. “Matt, who put their shit in my room?” You call out to your best friend and tour manager who walks towards you, a smug smirk on his face.

”Well Noah kept saying he would take the couch but there’s a California King in there so I told him he should just bunk in with you tonight.” He leans against the doorframe, grinning. “Call it team building.”

”Team building?” You scoff, exasperated.

All you want is one night to yourself without being stuck in a bus full of sweaty guys and Matt thinks it's funny to let the man you’ve been trying to avoid all tour share your room.

Noah doesn’t like you, it’s been clear since day one. Every time he talks to you he’s so patronising and cocky it makes your blood boil but it’s not like you can say much. You’re just their merch girl after all, replaceable. If it wasn’t for Matt you wouldn’t even have the opportunity so you keep your mouth closed and stay out of Noah’s way unless it’s important.

“Does Noah know that we’re sharing?” You fold your arms over your chest, staring at your best friend.

Matt chuckles. “More than aware, he actually seemed fine with it.” Your eyebrow raises in surprise and he laughs. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watch Matt retreat to his room and get to work pulling your pyjamas out from your suitcase, locking yourself in the bathroom to get ready for what you now know is going to be a hell of a long night.

While brushing your teeth you hear someone shuffle into the bedroom and you groan internally. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, you gather your discarded clothes from the day and take a deep breath before opening the en-suite door.

Noah is lying spread eagle on the bed, wearing a pair of basketball shorts with no top, scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence when you put your things back into your suitcase. You roll your eyes, grabbing your book to sit in the window seat across from the bed for a while, quietly reading to yourself. The silence is thick and you can hear his heavy breathing, distracting you from your book.

Your eyes flick from the dark romance novel to the man on the bed, eyes trailing over the expanses of ink that cover his toned skin and you feel heat pooling in your core.

”Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes flick back to the words on the page.

You scoff. “I wasn’t staring, you just breathe really loud and it’s pissing me off.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart.”

The sound of movement reaches your ears but you daren’t look at him, lifting the book higher to hide your red face. Suddenly the novel is snatched from your hands and you scramble to grab it back from him.

”Heartless Heathens?” He hums, holding the book out of your reach as he reads the blurb then flicks through a couple of pages, eyes widening. “Jesus, Y/N. I didn’t realise you were into this kinky shit.”

Your face is tomato red, burning hot as you try to wrestle the book from his hands.

“Noah give me my book back!”

All he does is laugh, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the page I had bookmarked. “Oh my god! ‘Does that tight pussy hurt when my fat cock stretches it out like this?’ Wow…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you squeeze them shut out of embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands.

”You like that shit, huh?” You can hear the amusement in his voice as steps forward, throwing the book down on the window seat. You want the ground to swallow you up when you feel him staring down at you.

You huff, removing your hands from your face. “Loads of people do, it’s just a book.”

“I mean, do you like that stuff? Guys talking to you like that in bed? Asking you if it hurts when they stretch you out on their cock?”

You laugh, he’s joking right? You look up at him and your mouth goes dry when you see his dark eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

”I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, I don’t really have the time.”

Noah looks taken aback at your words and his lips turn up into a smirk. “A pretty girl like you? Surely you have guys begging for a chance in every state we visit.”

You chortle, crossing your arms. “Unlike most guys, I don’t need sex.”

He scoffs, picking the book back up. “So you just read this casually?”

”Most of the time.”

”And the rest of the time?”

The hot flush returns to your cheeks, reaching the tips of your ears. “That’s none of your business.”

He starts to flick through the pages again, humming as he reads. “Can I take a guess?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, go ahead.” You throw yourself down onto the bed, sitting against the headboard as he paces, reading.

“I think you like this Corvin guy most, I can imagine you getting all hot and bothered when you read his parts and you can’t help but find yourself fingerfucking yourself in your bunk when everyone is asleep.” His head tilts when he stops to look at you, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of your arousal, grinning when he sees your thighs clench together. “Am I correct?”

You shake your head in disbelief. What’s his game and why is he trying to get under your skin over some book. Your underwear feels damp from the wetness that is pooling at your core from his words and you have to stop yourself from lunging at him, to either punch him or kiss him…you’re unsure which one would be more satisfying.

”C’mon Y/N, tell me.” He sits next to you, pointing at a section where the main character is riding Corvin. “Is this what you get off to?”

You feel all too hot and bothered with him sitting next to you with his shirt off, tattooed skin taunting you as he tries to coerce the secrets of your alone time out of you.

”If I wasn’t in here right now is that what you’d be doing? Getting off over your little dark romance book?”

”What’s your deal Noah? Why do you want to know about all this?” You sit up straighter and he lounges back, eyeing you humorously.

He shrugs. “It’s just cute that you read this horny stuff. I never took you as the type to get riled up by it, is all.”

”You’d be surprised.” You mumble and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

”You read worse?”

”Oh shut up, Noah. It’s just dumb fiction, why are we even still talking about this?”

He turns to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes burning into the side of your head. “Because I can tell how hot and bothered you are right now and it’s kind of sexy, I must admit.”

You gulp at his words, staring straight ahead in a conscious effort not to look at him or all of your resolve might falter.

”So tell me, were you so pissed about having to share this room because you wanted some special alone time tonight with your little smut novel?”

You can feel his smirk and the tension in the room thickens, turning into a storm cloud of lust.

”You can still do it, you know.”

Your eyes finally dart to his smug face and your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He shrugs casually. “You can still get yourself off, I could read to you if you want?”

Your swallow thickly, your core throbbing at his words. “No, that’s weird.”

Noah chuckles. “Masturbation isn’t we-“

”I fucking know that! What’s weird is you’re my boss and you’re offering to read to me while I make myself cum. Do you hear yourself?”

You can’t lie to yourself, the offer is almost too tempting. It’s not fair that the most attractive man you know is basically offering to help you get your rocks off but he hates you right? He’s always so moody and weird around you. Why is he being like this?

He sits up, scooting closer so your shoulders are touching and he leans close to your ear, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. “Or I could tell you every wicked little fantasy I’ve had about you since you waltzed into the studio with Matt all those years back.’

Your eyebrows raise and you turn to him, his mouth just inches from yours. “You fantasise about me?”

He laughs, a smug sound that makes you want to punch him. “Oh yeah, my favourite is the one where I get to bend you over and rip apart those fishnets you love to wear, the ones with the lace flowers on.” His eyes darken as he reminisces over the lewd thoughts and your mind wanders.

How would it feel to have his hands all over you, tearing away those expensive tights that you adore? How would it feel to have him buried to the hilt inside you as he pushes your head into whatever surface he can find? Fuck its all too much.

”Noah, we shouldn’t talk about this stuff.” You try to reason with yourself but your resolve quickly disappears when his long inked finger trails up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your silky black pyjama shorts.

“Why? We’re both adults.” He smiles almost innocently.

”Because you don’t like me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Since when? Didn’t I just tell you that I literally think about how I want to bend you over?”

You roll your eyes. “You literally talk to me like shit the majority of the time.”

”I like watching you squirm.” His smile is cocky and it only sends more electricity to your core because he’s right, he does make you squirm and you like it too.

A lust filled silence lingers in the air as he stares into your eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips.

”So do you still want to get yourself off, I’d love to watch.” He cocks an eyebrow and there it is, the last of your resolve leaving out the window.

”Fine.”

He’s like a kid in a candy shop when he sits up, watching you lie down on the bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you close your eyes, trying to pretend he isn’t there. You slide the silk shorts down your legs, leaving the black lace thong on and your hand travels over the soft fabric, running over the damp patch that is only getting bigger.

You gasp when you slide your hand between the fabric, fingers slipping between your slick folds, easily finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that's been begging to be touched since you walked out of the bathroom to find Noah sprawled out shirtless on the bed. Oh how you wanted to just climb on top of him, to sink down on his cock like you owned him.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips when you circle your clit, slowly teasing yourself to the images of Noah’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. You feel him shift next to you to get a better look at your movements, how your fingers move under the dark lace of your panties. You hear him take a shaky breath and it sends shockwaves to your sensitive core.

“Does that feel good?” His voice is deep, coarse in your ear and you whine out a confirmation, moving your fingers faster over your clit. “God, you don’t know how good you sound. Do you like it when I talk to you?”

”Y-yes.” You sigh and he chuckles.

”Such a good girl.” He whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Do you want me to tell you what to do, huh? Do you want to be good for me and remove your underwear so I can see how you touch that pretty little pussy? God, I bet it’s so perfect.”

You whimper, using your spare hand to push the lace down your thighs, kicking them off as you toy with yourself. Noah leans forward, a hand landing on your thigh to pull your legs further apart and a feral groan leaves his throat when you spread yourself open for him to see just how wet you are, fingers covered in wet slick.

”Oh fuck, you look so good sweetheart. Show me how you bury those pretty fingers in there.”

You push two fingers into your core, the wet sound reaching your ears. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. You hear Noah’s breathing quicken as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, soft moans leaving your bitten lips.

”Doing so fucking well for me.” The praise feels like heaven when it meets your ears and you speed up, curling your fingers upwards. “Fuck, what I would do to bury my own fingers inside you.”

”Please.” You whine, opening your eyes to look at him, your breath coming out in pants when his lust blown eyes meet yours.

“Please what?” He smirks, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear as you find your clit again, rubbing your soaked fingers over the sensitive bud.

“I need your fingers inside me, please.” You’re so fucking needy and you can tell how much he gets off on it by how his smirk grows into a cruel grin and he holds his fingers against your plump lips.

”Are you gonna suck them for me? Get them nice and wet like the good little slut you are?” Your eyes roll back at his words and he gasps when your tongue swirls around the calloused pads of his fingers, soaking them with your saliva.

He pushes two long fingers into your warm mouth and you hollow your cheeks around them, staring up at him with innocent eyes that make his aching cock strain against his shorts. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and trails them down the valley of your clothed chest, down your navel to where your own fingers are still toying with your clit. Your eyes follow and your hand moves, giving him full access to where you need him most.

”You gonna watch me fuck you with my fingers huh?” He smiles sweetly, sliding his fingers up and down your drenched folds teasingly.

You nod, leaning up on your elbows to watch his slender fingers disappear between your folds, rubbing tight circles around your clit and you gasp his name, your mouth falling open at the immense pleasure. He chuckles, sliding them to your entrance to gather the wetness that pools there, moving back to your clit to play with it all too slowly.

”Please Noah.” You whine and he tuts.

”Be patient, I’ll get there. I want a better look.”

He moves to lie between your legs, pushing your legs further apart to get a good look at your glistening cunt. You can feel his breath hot against you and you could just cum right there without him even touching you, especially with how he looks up at you through those long lashes, eyes black and predatory like he wants to eat you whole.

“You’ve got such a perfect pussy, fuck.” He groans, pushes his long middle finger in, the dark ink disappearing inch by inch inside your cunt and you moan louder than expected, your hand flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, it feels so good, so soft.”

A second finger joins the first and he slowly curls them, finding that spot that leaves you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back, your head lolling back on your shoulders. His spare hand grips your inner thigh with a bruising hold and you're sure there will be bruises there tomorrow but you don’t mind, it feels like heaven.

”My mouth is so close to your pussy I can practically taste you.” He growls and your hips buck, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you. He chuckles darkly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

You sob, nodding enthusiastically.

”Use your words, pretty girl.” He hums, kissing your pelvic bone.

”Please taste me.”

He hums, his hot tongue dragging over your folds before his lips close around your clit, leaving you gobsmacked from how fucking good his tongue feels against you with his fingers fucking into you.

You’re close, you can feel that tightness building in your lower abdomen, so fucking close. His fingers curl faster, his tongue lapping over your clit like you’re the last water source on Earth and you’re falling. Your legs shake, a feral groan leaving your lips as your orgasm rips through your body like a fucking tornado. His fingers only move faster as his lips leave your sensitive clit and you're tipping over the edge again just as quickly, gushing around his fingers and the bed sheets below.

”Fuck, good girl!” He grins, lapping your sweet nectar from your thighs. “Think you’ve got another?”

You have no time to protest, he rises to slide between your thighs, fingers still buried deep inside your cunt as he stares down at you, curling them fast exactly where he knows he can drag another orgasm from you. His free hand covers your mouth when you cum again, screaming into his palm, soaking the front of his shorts where his leaking cock strains against them.

”Good fucking girl, well done!” He kisses your forehead, pulling his drenched hand away from your sensitive core to suck his fingers clean.

You stare at him in bewilderment when he smiles down at you. You’re in shock at how much you just came for a man you thought hated you half an hour ago.

”I think I need to catch you reading more.” He chuckles.

”Shut the fuck up.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into a searing kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“So you two didn’t kill each other last night?” Matt smirks when you make your way downstairs in the morning, wearing one of Noah’s shirts with him freshly showered following behind you.

Folio storms past, looking a little worse for wear. “I would’ve preferred it if they did, I need to bleach my ears.” He groans, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

You blush bright red, throwing a grape at the drummer and Noah wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into his lap.

”Guess my plan worked then.” Matt chuckles, popping a grape in his mouth with a grin.

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens band #bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens cult #band fic #fanfiction

980 notes · View notes

sycamoregirlsworld · 7 months

Text

I Can See You- L. Castellan

“what would you do if i went to touch you now?” -Taylor Swift

Luke x Fem! reader

slightly mature? idk

Early morning training wasn’t something many campers enjoyed doing.

Most of the kids at camp would much prefer staying in their cabins until the very last minute. Wrapped in their covers until they just had to go to training.

Luke and (Y/n) we’re not those people. Well— it was more like they couldn’t be those people.

Their sparring sometimes got a bit… competitive. Too many campers had complained about it, so the pair decided that they would start to spar early in the morning.

It’s not like they were complaining. Being alone provided a better environment for them.

“Gods, Luke.” (Y/n) breathed out as she was forced onto defense, blocking his jabs with her twin swords.

Sweat glistened on their foreheads as they clashed blades, the metallic echoes filling the air. Luke's brown eyes never left (Y/n)’s form, enamored with the way she fought.

While his fighting style was quick and agressive, she fought gracefully and her moves were calculated.

“C’mon sweetheart, is this all you’ve got?” Luke teased as he attempted to strike her arm.

“Fuck off, Luke.” She grunted and parried his strike.

She had always been a bit too competitive, and it got even worse when it came to Luke.

He winked before swinging his sword towards her, the steel side of backbiter unknowingly facing her.

Catching the silver gleam of the steel, (Y/n) quickly dropped and rolled under his legs.

“Steel side is out, stupid.” She huffed and kicked the back of his knees.

Luke grunted as he stumbled forward. He caught his balance and whipped around to glare at her.

“That was a cheap move, babe.” He breathed out.

Before she could blink, Luke had thrusted his sword out (this time making sure the steel was not facing her) effectively catching her off guard.

(Y/N) stumbled backward, her swords falling out of her hands. Her heart pounding, and not just from the shock of the move but also from the Luke way look was looking at her.

She found herself on the ground, the force the the disarm sending her sprawling. Luke crouched next to her, his eyes now a mix of pride and something deeper.

Unable to break eye contact, Luke lifted (Y/N)'s chin with the tip of his sword, their faces inches apart. (Y/N) bit her lip as she looked up at him, her eyes wide and her breathing unsteady.

The cold metal of his sword should’ve made her scared, if he moved it a bit it could’ve pierced her skin, but instead all (Y/N) could think about was the fact that if she moved her face just a bit her lips would’ve been on his…

The tension hung thick in the air, their faces were both flushed from their sweat and close proximity.

"I could have defeated you," (Y/N) teased, her voice a mix of challenge and vulnerability.

Luke's lips curved into a half-smile, "Maybe, but where's the fun in that?"

His hand reached up and grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging her head back slightly.

“You look hot like this.” He mumbled, his sword still under her chin.

(Y/n) averted her gaze from him, her face burning brighter.

“You’re such a perv.” She chewed at her bottom lip.

Luke nudged her chin with his sword softly. “Look at me, pretty girl.” He pouted playfully.

Luke discarded his sword with a clatter, his urgency evident as he pulled (Y/n) onto his lap, their lips colliding in a fervent, heated kiss.

With one hand tangled in her hair and the other gripping her waist possessively, he drew her closer, igniting an ache within her. (Y/n) gasped softly, before surrendering to the kiss.

She threaded her fingers through his tousled brown locks and tugged softly, eliciting a soft moan from him.

Luke's kiss was rough, and the lingering scent of his sweat heightened her desire.

With a yearning for more, she instinctively began to move against him, seeking the friction she so desperately craved— until a sudden realization pulled her back to reality.

"Luke—" Her voice faltered as their eyes met, his pretty, brown eyes were half-lidded and intoxicated with desire. His tousled hair and flushed cheeks, saliva-slicked lips only fueled her longing. "We can't... we're still on the training grounds..." She hesitated, torn between restraint and the burning need coursing through her veins.

"So what?" Luke's husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his hands began to explore beneath her shirt, his touch setting her ablaze with desire. “It’s still early.”

Glancing around, she considered their surroundings. It was early, and the ache between her legs had gone unattended for weeks…

"Fuck it," she muttered, her resolve crumbling as she pushed Luke down, surrendering to the intoxicating allure of their forbidden passion.

This was why they trained early.

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #aesthetic

634 notes · View notes

ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up.

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well?

DINGUS: so it seemed.

ARGYLE 😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour.

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe.

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance?

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next?

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve.

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference.

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first.

He’s making no move to get up off the floor.

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.”

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through.

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious.

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you.

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion.

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?”

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.”

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything.

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?”

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.”

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours.

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.”

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms.

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush?

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively.

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.”

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.”

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit.

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?”

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better.

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.”

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.”

“Then consider this your notice.”

Is this what I had always been missing out on?

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning.

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever.

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?”

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.”

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.”

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you.

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there.

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home.

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really.

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions.

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation.

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.”

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?”

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?”

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?”

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.”

“What have you guys been doing?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.”

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says.

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.”

“Am I?”

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder.

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.”

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.”

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.”

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.”

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet.

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.”

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket.

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.”

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over.

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now.

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.”

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night.

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly.

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center.

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well.

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it.

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches.

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now.

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now.

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.”

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.”

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.”

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?”

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t.

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing.

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it.

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to.

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave.

Eddie’s quick to follow.

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure.

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C.

Leaving now is not leaving forever.

But it sure does feel like it.

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave.

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you.

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?”

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?”

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck.

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.”

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you.

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Time. You two needed time apart.

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet.

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away.

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful.

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went.

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart.

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.”

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat.

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind?

That wasn’t really complicated.

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.”

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes.

You wish you would have kissed him.

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-”

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend.

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours.

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be.

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems.

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted.

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you.

Rough’s a good way to put it.

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it.

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend.

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy.

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress.

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie.

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along.

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless.

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration.

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again.

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two. And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s.

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two.

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him.

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time.

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to.

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears.

EDDIE: Make it home okay?

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now.

YOU: yep. my roommate just left.

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember?

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud.

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone.

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams.

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care.

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened.

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now.

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds.

EDDIE: Ah. I see.

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over?

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems.

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down.

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours.

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos.

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you.

YOU: About what?

EDDIE: I’m not home right now.

Your heart clenches.

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not.

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere.

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is.

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step.

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you.

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues.

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist.

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.”

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter.

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool.

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?”

“Start over?” you question wearily.

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.”

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves.

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.”

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you.

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss.

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home.

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.”

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

taglist is now closed.

#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #this feels so surreal to post jesus christ #thank you guys genuinely for all the love #i will be making a sappy post before i post the epilogue on thursday #i just #wow #yeah #i did it #again #i finished a fucking fic

1K notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 1 month

Text

All the Pieces Fall

Title: All the Pieces Fall Characters/Pairings: female!reader x BABE OF YOUR CHOICE Word Count: 3.1k Summary: After leaving the man you adored to chase your dreams, you're faced with the nightmare of bumping into him again when you least expect it.

Content/Warnings: exes to lovers; explicit smut: oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart); fluff

Author Note: A little something for @stargazingfangirl18 for her birthday/birthday bonenanza. I couldn't decide which babe to write for you for your birthday, so take a deep breath, close your eyes, make a wish while you blow out your birthday candles, and pick whoever you want! Exes to lovers, a few of your dialogue prompts (bolded/italicized), and a kink or two from your prompt list...

Additional Note: I'm also submitting this for the @bucks-and-noble Choose Your Babe challenge. I gave this babe blue eyes, but that's it.

You felt someone’s eyes on you before you turned around.

When you did turn only to discover they were his eyes, your stomach dropped while your heart shot into your throat.

Him.

Why did it have to be him?

He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his face.

All flights were grounded with the torrential rains, so there were hundreds of passengers stranded just like you, but of all the days and all the destinations, to be stranded during a layover in Dallas with your ex was the last thing you wanted.

As you walked away from the booking counter and the tall, handsome man who occasionally still haunted your dreams approached you, you reminded your body that you did not crave his touch anymore. You were well past that.

Your heart did not stutter when he uttered your name in greeting.

(It did.)

But you managed to give him a convincingly strong hello in return, and his smile grew and warmed.

“Your flight delayed until tomorrow now, too?” he asked.

“Yes,” you sighed.

“Do you have a place to stay yet?”

“No.” You frowned. It had been in the back of your mind, but the first concern had been getting confirmation on when you could fly out.

“I own a hotel nearby. Let me put you up for the night – I won’t take no for an answer.”

There was a tiny part of you that wanted to say no, aware of the slippery slope of entering his orbit again. But after hours of being delayed already, you were tired. Not having to worry about something you were sure was going to be a nightmare to arrange with so many other passengers stranded was an offer you didn’t want to refuse.

“Thank you, that’s an incredibly generous offer.”

He shook his head with a slight chuckle. “It’s really not. It’s entirely selfish.”

He took a half step closer to you.

The proximity forced you to have to raise your chin to look into his eyes.

“I knew I couldn’t chase after you when you left, but I was sure one day our paths would cross again. Now I have one night either to get closure or to convince you to come back to me.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

He traced the line of your jaw with his finger, then nudged your chin, closing your mouth.

“Let’s go,” he said.

With a single nod, he turned, another man approached and took your bag for you, and you hurried along to fall into step with him.

You knew your ex had done well in the years you had been apart. It had been hard to ignore him in the news as his company grew and expanded, brought other companies under its umbrella, built a new headquarters in another city on the other side of the country, and on and on.

He only touched you to put his hand at the small of your back when he opened the door of a sleek, black SUV, waiting at the curb outside the terminal of the airport. He walked around the back and sat on the other side.

He engaged you effortlessly in small talk from the airport to the hotel.

He swept you away to have dinner with him the moment the two of you arrived.

He easily convinced you to stay for dessert after the exquisite dinner the two of your shared.

The evening was too easy, the conversation too effortless.

At least on the surface.

You enjoyed every moment, and yet you itched for him to touch you, to look at you in the piercing way he used to, to ask for an explanation as to why you’d cut and run.

But he didn’t.

And he had been content to keep talking until you finally had to try and stifle a yawn. Only then did he suggest it was time to retire.

As the two of you left the restaurant, a concierge approached and handed two small keycard envelopes to him. He nodded and thanked his staff and led you to the bank of elevators.

He looked in each envelope, then handed one to you. There was a soothing ding, and one of the elevators opened for the two of you.

He pressed two buttons – one for your floor, and one for the top floor.

The two of you rode up in silence. You fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve.

When the lift stopped at your floor – only two below his – you started to step out, saying, “Well-”

But he cut you off, grabbing your wrist, and putting his other hand out to hold the elevator doors open. “Stay with me tonight.”

You looked at where he held your wrist in time to see as his hand slid down to hold your hand instead. Then he lifted your hand to his lips. Tentatively, eyes locked on yours, he kissed it softly. The friendliness that had shone through his face all evening was gone, replaced with an intense hunger.

You stepped back into the elevator, closer to him than before.

The elevator doors slid closed behind you.

You took a deep, steadying breath, then said. “I’m sure you could talk me into saying ‘yes’ to whatever you want.”

His eyes darkened, and he licked his lips.

Moments later when the lift opened to the top floor, he led you by the hand quickly and quietly down the hallway to the penthouse suite.

The moment you were inside, he closed the door, and pressed you up against it, crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

You responded instantly, muscle memory taking over as your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. His lips were just as you remembered - warm, demanding, intoxicating. The familiar scent of his cologne enveloped you, and he pressed closer, one hand cupping your face while the other gripped your waist. A soft moan escaped you as his tongue swept across your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You granted it willingly, melting into him as the kiss deepened.

Suddenly, reality came crashing back. You broke away, putting a hand on his chest, breathless, your head spinning. "Wait," you gasped. "We shouldn't..."

He rested his forehead against yours, both of you panting. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this?” he murmured, his voice low and husky.

You bit your lip, looking straight into his eyes again. You could feel the ache for him in your bones as much as you could feel your heaving chests pressed against each other in that moment.

“But why?” you had to ask, even though you could only manage a whisper.

He took a step back, his hands sliding down to gently grasp yours. His eyes never left yours as he spoke, his voice soft but filled with emotion.

"Why? Because from the moment I first saw you, you've been etched into my soul. Every day we spent together only confirmed it. When you left, it felt like you took a piece of me with you. I tried to fill that void with work, with success, but nothing could replace you.

“After a while, it hurt less, but I could still feel the lack. I've replayed every moment we shared, wondering what I could have done differently. I've imagined a thousand scenarios where you stayed, where we built a life together.”

You had replayed and imagined different scenarios, too. No one had ever matched him and the place he had inhabited in your heart.

“But I don’t think a life together is lost for us either,” he said, bringing his hand back to cup your cheek.

“But don’t you want to know why I left?”

“I know why you left.”

You frowned. “Then why didn’t you come after me?”

“Because I know why you left. You wanted more and you were worried if you stayed you wouldn’t find it.”

Tears welled in your eyes, because it was true. He was growing and changing, moving forward. Your friends at the time had been getting married and having babies. You wanted that, too, but at the time you felt like everyone was leaving you behind. And so you’d left instead of being left behind.

“I’ve followed you following your dreams. If I get one night with you now and still have to wait for forever later, I’ll do it. You’re the only one I want.”

“Even after all this time?”

“Has there been anyone else for you?”

“No,” you confessed.

“There couldn’t be for me, either,” he said fervently.

You surged forward and kissed him. “I want more than only one night,” you rushed between eager kisses.

He smiled against your lips, his hands sliding down to your hips. "All my nights belong to you," he murmured, pulling you closer.

Your fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he trailed kisses along your jaw. The familiar yet electrifying sensation of his lips on your skin sent shivers down your spine. You gasped as he found the sensitive spot just below your ear, the one he always knew drove you wild.

"I've missed you," he breathed, his voice husky with desire. "Every inch of you."

You managed to push his shirt off his shoulders, running your hands over his toned chest. He was still as fit as you remembered, perhaps even more so. Your touch seemed to ignite something within him, and suddenly you were being lifted, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

He carried you to the bedroom, laying you gently on the plush king-sized bed. The city lights twinkled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a soft glow across the room. He hovered above you, his eyes roaming your face as if committing every detail to memory.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be ruined for anyone or anything else.”

In response, you pulled him down for another passionate kiss. Your hands explored the planes of his back as he settled between your legs, the weight of him both familiar and thrilling. He broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, his fingers working deftly to unbutton your blouse, his lips lavishing heated attention to each inch of skin as it was revealed. He was committed to relearning your body with reverent touches and tender kisses, but you could feel the frenzy building. You arched into him, desperate for more contact, more friction, impatient and needing him. Both of you broke apart to finish tearing off your remaining clothes, and then your came back together. Your name fell from his lips like a prayer as he began to worship your body. His lips never left your skin, whispering words of adoration between heated kisses. Your fingers dug into his back, urging him closer, desperate to erase any remaining distance between you.

Finally, his lips found the soaked slit of you, and you keened and arched beneath him. He chuckled and put an arm firmly over your hips to keep you pinned for him.

His tongue teased along your folds, building the ache within you to a fever pitch. You writhed against his hold, desperate for more. When he finally slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right, you cried out in ecstasy. He worked you expertly, his mouth and fingers in perfect synchronization, quickly pushing you to the edge.

"Let go for me, sweetheart," he murmured against your skin. "I want to taste you."

His words, combined with a particularly skillful flick of his tongue, sent you careening over the edge. You came with a cry of his name, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. He didn't let up, working you through your orgasm until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

As you came down from your high, he kissed his way back up your body, settling between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and you ached to have him inside you. Your hands roamed his back, pulling him closer as you nipped at his earlobe.

"Please," you whispered, your voice husky with need. "I want you."

He groaned, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he slowly pushed into you. You both gasped at the sensation, the familiar yet electrifying feeling of being joined again after so long apart. He stilled for a moment, his forehead resting against yours, both of you savoring the connection.

"You feel like home," he murmured, his eyes locked on yours.

Slowly, he began to move, setting a languid pace that had you arching beneath him, desperate for more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, urging him deeper with each thrust. The room filled with the sounds of your mingled gasps and moans.

His pace quickened, driven by your encouraging moans and the way your nails raked down his back. You met him thrust for thrust, your bodies finding that perfect rhythm you'd always shared. His lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he drove you closer to the edge. The tension built between you, a coiling spring of pleasure winding tighter and tighter.

"God, I've missed this," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Missed you. So much."

You could only whimper in response, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, sparks of pleasure shooting through you with each movement. You were close, so close, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

He seemed to sense it, one hand sliding between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers worked in tight circles, perfectly in sync with his thrusts, until you cried out in ecstasy beneath him, body contracting with your climax. He pulled out and flipped you over onto your stomach.

You gasped as he entered you again from behind in one smooth thrust, his chest pressed against your back. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close as he set a frantic pace. The new angle had you seeing stars, each thrust hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

"You're mine," he growled in your ear, his voice rough with passion. "Say it."

"Yours," you moaned, pliant and helpless beneath him. "I'm yours."

His left hand found your left hand, and his fingers tangled with yours into the sheets he drove into you relentlessly. You could feel another orgasm building, your oversensitive body trembling with each powerful thrust. This angle, how deep he could hit inside of you, was always your undoing. His breath was hot against your neck as he peppered kisses along your shoulder.

"Come for me again, sweetheart," he demanded, his right hand sliding down to where you were joined. "One more time."

It was all you needed to fall over one final ledge. His thrusts became erratic as your walls squeezed around his throbbing cock, and then he shouted as he released deep inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the heavy weight of him. You reached back and threaded your fingers through his hair, humming in contentment, his half-hard cock still inside you.

Finally, he rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were nestled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound in the room was your gradually slowing breaths and the distant hum of the city outside. You traced lazy patterns on his chest, relishing the familiar warmth of his skin.

"I can't believe this is real," you murmured, still feeling dazed from the intensity of your reunion.

He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long," he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looking into his eyes. The vulnerability you saw there made your heart ache. "I'm sorry I left," you whispered, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "I was scared and foolish."

He caught your hand and pressed a kiss into your palm. “You might have been scared, but you weren’t foolish. It hurt like hell to let you go, and the only thing that kept me sane was the belief that it wouldn’t hurt so much if I didn’t love you more than anything else in this world.”

Your breath caught in your chest.

“I never stopped loving you. I didn’t get to ask you then, so I’m asking you now: marry me.”

You laughed nervously. “That’s not a question.”

“So?”

“We live on different sides of the country!”

“Are you making excuses because you’re nervous or because you want to say no?”

You bit your lip.

This seemed impossible, and yet how easy had it been to slip into simply being with him again? From the hours of easy conversation earlier in the evening to the intensity of both the physical and emotional intimacy between you, nothing had been forced, it only felt like using muscles that hadn’t been tested in a while but were still there.

“I was actually heading back home for a final interview.”

“Home as in…?”

“As in our home. I didn’t know if I’d take the job, I was worried about seeing you again.”

“And now?”

“Now when they ask me if I’m serious about considering a relocation across the country, I can say I’m highly motivated so I can be in the same city as my fiancé.”

His eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and disbelief. "Is that a yes?”

You nodded, a smile spreading across your face. "Yes! Yes, I'll marry you."

He pulled you close, capturing your lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate. When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless and grinning.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, tracing the lines of his face with your fingertips.

He caught your hand and pressed a kiss to your ring finger. "Believe it. I'm never letting you go again."

You snuggled closer to him, relishing the warmth of his body against yours. "So, what now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly. "Sleep. Then breakfast and more sex, probably not in that order. Catch our flight, then ring shopping before dinner. Figure out the rest after that?”

You nodded. “Together,” you said.

“Together,” he echoed before kissing you again.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

This is maybe the fluffiest smut I've written in a while, and it was absolutely not what I was planning on when I woke up today, so... make of that what you will. I'm really nervous to post it, and when I never designated a specific babe I really don't know how this got up over 3k, but HERE WE ARE!

#happy birthday siri 2024 #bnchooseyourbabe #chris evans characters #sebastian stan characters #henry cavill characters #aspen wrote something #choose your babe #female reader

193 notes · View notes

idunnoficsorsumthing · 1 year

Text

Lost the bet

Pairings: Topper Thornton x reader; Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe and Topper make a bet.

Warnings: 18+ sex scenes are described so MINORS DO NOT interact. Cheating? unlikeable characters?

The summer had cast a relentless warmth upon the coastal town, and as your boyfriend, Topper, draped his arm casually over your shoulders, the heat seemed even more stifling. Across from you sat Rafe, his gaze a simmering mixture of intensity and tension. The trio was gathered around a weathered wooden table on the terrace, but the atmosphere was far from relaxed.

Topper and Rafe were locked in a heated discussion, a bet that revolved around surfing, and your gut instincts urged you to intervene. "Let's make it five hundred," Topper proposed, the words hanging in the humid air. Rafe's eyes remained fixated on you, a glance that stirred both heat and unease within you. You couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of embarrassment as his gaze bore into your very core.

Then, without warning, Rafe's voice cut through the thick air. "Sex," he declared, his tone dripping with confidence. "If you win, you get five hundred, but if I win, I want sex." The unexpected proposition hung in the air, casting a palpable tension over the table. Kelce, a friend who had been listening in, couldn't help but burst into laughter. "A threesome, huh?" Topper quipped, a touch of unwillingness in his voice.

You felt compelled to voice your objections, but before you could interject, Topper and Rafe sealed the deal with a firm handshake. Desperation welled up within you. "Top, can I talk to you?" you implored, prompting a reluctant nod from him. The two of you retreated from the terrace, seeking a quieter corner to hash things out.

"What the hell, Topper?" you exclaimed, your frustration evident as you slapped his arm. "I can't believe you agreed to this."

"I'm not going to lose this," he retorted, an air of unwavering confidence in his tone.

"Calm down," he urged, though it was clear you were far from calm yourself. For the next ten minutes, you engaged in a passionate discussion about the value of women and relationships, your words aimed at conveying the sacredness of intimacy. Despite your heated exchange, you couldn't shake the sense of discomfort that had settled within you.

In the following days, you kept your distance from Topper. You refrained from wishing him good luck and gave him the cold shoulder, struggling to determine your course of action. Should you break up with him, unable to get over his lack of protectiveness of your intimacy with him? Or should you stay and to be alright with the result of the bet as the thought of Rafe's hunger-filled gaze haunting your thoughts?

That day, the inevitable call came. "I'm sorry, babe," Topper's voice was laced with worry, as if bracing for another round of your anger. "I tried to get him to accept money," he added, sounding somewhat defeated. "But he insists on the 'prize.'"

You took a deep breath and finally conceded, "Okay, fine." Silence hung on the line. "But it's all about you, babe," Topper assured, trying to alleviate your dread.

When the day arrived, Topper left the room momentarily, claiming he needed condoms from the bathroom. Left alone with Rafe, his darkened gaze and proximity intensified your unease. You had seen that look before, but this time, it held an entirely new meaning. "Are you okay with this?" he asked, leaning in close on the couch.

"Does it matter?" you responded with a shrug, downing your drink in a single gulp. He didn't back down, holding your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His words hung heavily in the air, causing your heart to race. "So, Y/n, do you want my cock?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. Your breath hitched as his words stirred a hunger deep within you, an unprecedented longing.

"I need words," Rafe demanded, and you could only nod in response. "Yes, Rafe," you whispered, the tension in the room palpable. As his lips met yours, desire ignited, and you found yourself craving his touch more than ever.

You hadn't even noticed that Topper had returned, though you were too consumed by the escalating intimacy. "You guys started without me?" he remarked casually, reclining on the bed beside you. His hands began to explore beneath your shirt, planting kisses on your exposed skin. You felt a pang of guilt for the conflicting desires coursing through your body.

As the duo helped you undress, Topper's urgency was evident. Rafe, on the other hand, seemed wholly captivated by your naked form, and you couldn't help but feel a heady mixture of exposure and exhilaration. "I want a taste," Rafe declared, his desire evident in his gaze, while Topper sat nearby, his arousal evident, awaiting his own pleasure.

You find yourself caught in a whirlwind of sensations, your lips bitten in a futile attempt to stifle the peak of your pleasure. Rafe's ability to make you feel like you are about to cum so quickly reduced you to whimpers. "Please, Rafe," your voice trembling. But he responds not with words, but with his tongue against you.

"Are you going to cum for Rafe, babe?" Topper asks as he forces your hand which had slowed down as your pleasure increases. "Oh my god, RAFE," you moan as your legs quiver, Rafe persisting in his movements until your release.

Rafe rises from the floor, his imposing presence looming over your exposed form. Your hand instinctively reaches for his belt, a desire to reciprocate the pleasure. Topper's presences fades in your mind as you assist Rafe in removing his clothes. Your gaze fixates on his arousal, your fingers inching towards it with intention to provide satisfaction. However, he stops you. "So eager to please me," he murmurs, glancing towards Topper for the first time that evening. "You see how much she wants my cock, like a whore," he adds, a smile appearing on his face expecting to get his turn soon. Topper stood up from the bed. “So how do you want to do this?” Topper asked. Rafe stopped acknowledging Topper again. Instead he came in for a kiss again, and you felt your own arousal rise up in you again. The thought of him inside you, pleasuring you, fucking hard causing your shut legs to squeeze together. Rafe pushes them open again, allowing him to rub his cock against your wetness sending shivers down your spine as it was still sensitive. "Are you a good girl? Ready for my cock?" he rasps, to which your response is a whimper as he gradually eases into you. Though the initial discomfort sends twinges of pain, the ensuing union soon overtakes you in waves of pleasure.

The symphony of your shared passion inadvertently incites Topper's protest. "Hey man, the deal wasn't for you to have sex with my girlfriend," Topper interjects. Rafe's halt in movement causes a discontented moan from you. "Oh, I didn't realize you were so desperate for me. Would you prefer my dick inside you?" Rafe retorts sharply, the aching need within you causing you to reluctantly concur, "Top, just sit down. You'll get your turn," you sigh. Defeated Topper sat down on the ottoman.

You remain silent towards Rafe after experiencing three climaxes that night, a couple of days ago. It was a contrast from the meager satisfaction Topper typically offers. As you arrive at the country club where Rafe and Topper are enjoying beers on the terrace, you divert from your regular seat beside Topper, opting instead to settle beside Rafe. "Hey, Y/n," Topper greets you, "can you come sit here?" but Rafe's hand claims your thigh, hinting that he wishes you to remain where you are.

As the night progresses and the drinks keep flowing, Rafe's attentiveness towards you becomes increasingly more obvious. He whispers sensually in your ear, provoking Topper's growing discontent. It was then that Topper couldn’t take it anymore, and asked to speak to you. The two of you retreat to a spot near the exit, reminded of your heated argument about the threesome just a week prior. Though your voices remain hushed, your table's view allows them to witness the exchange.

"You and Rafe look cozy," Topper sneers, to which you merely shrug. Deep down, you've already realized your hesitation to continue with Topper. However, you've postponed a breakup, fearing it may be driven by anger and filled with regret. "I don't get it, Y/n. You were so opposed against the threesome, yet you clearly loved being fucked by Rafe," Topper accuses, his tone filled with frustration. "That's not fair," you protest. "What's not fair is you being fucked by him and not wanting me," he retorts, prompting a scoff from you. "It's not my fault Rafe is some kind of orgasm god, okay?" you argue. His gaze narrows as it shifts between his friend and you. "He couldn't have been that good," he challenges, only to have you look him square in the eyes and declare, "Topper, I think we should break up." The message is clear in your stern gaze. "You're a goddamn whore!" Topper yells, a painful sting accompanying his words, and tears prickling your eyes.

"Do not talk to her like that!" Rafe's unmistakable voice cuts through the tension as he rushes to your defense. Topper warns him to stay out of it, but Rafe, driven by a surge of anger, delivers a punch that sends Topper staggering backward, groaning in pain.

"Jesus, Rafe!" you shrieked, your frustration reaching a boiling point. You couldn't contain your anger any longer, and it was directed at both of them. With a huff of exasperation, you turned your back on the two men and stormed off, your footsteps echoing your fury.

Let me know if anyone wants a part 2 or if it is better just like this.

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton smut #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction

427 notes · View notes

weareapackofstrays · 8 months

Text

A New Kind of Love: Chapter I

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 1,958

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: This is my first fic ever to be posted and will likely not be great, but gotta start somewhere, right? I would love any feedback or thoughts (but please be nice or I might cry).

Song that was on repeat while I wrote this and thus became the title

Chapter I: Introduction Next

“Fuck, right there!” you shout as your nails dig into the hand gripping your waist.

“Like that?” Kyle, your usual drunken mistake, confirms.

“Yes! Ahhh,” you can feel your high fast-approaching.

“God, you look so filthy like this, sweetheart! Gonna fill you up.” Your dress is pushed up to your waist while your breasts spill over the top exposing them to the cool air. Kyle admires your bare ass jiggling with each of his thrusts.

You roll your eyes at your partner’s words and do your best to focus on your orgasm. It’s not that you hate the guy, you just couldn’t really stand him either. He was a frat boy and far from your type, but you were both drunk, horny, and he always happened to be conveniently around when you needed some attention. So fast forward to now, where you are currently shoved against the door of the upstairs bathroom of whoever’s house this was getting your guts rearranged.

“I’m gonna come!” you announce.

“Yeah, come for me, baby! Come all over my big fat cock,” he preens as he slams into you.

“Kyle, respectfully, shut the fuck up.” He laughs while his tip kisses your sweet spot perfectly. You moan at the blissful sensation. His free hand grabs hold of your hair and yanks your head back suddenly. The unexpected force causes a groan to escape from your throat. Kyle begins to pick up the pace and gives your right ass cheek a loud smack. Just as the searing pain registers, you finally come with a gasp. He shoves your face further into the door as he works towards his own high. After a few more ruts, he empties himself into the condom and finally pulls out.

“We gotta stop meeting like this, sweetheart.” Kyle smirks as he buttons his jeans and adjusts his belt.

You pull up your panties and face him, “This is the last time, Kyle.”

“Sure it is, babe.” He gives you a wink and an air kiss as he turns to the sink to wash his hands. Even you could hear the lack of confidence in your voice. Ignoring his comment, you fix your makeup and hair, tug at the base of your dress one last time, and exit the bathroom. The two of you descend the stairs back into the chaos of the party. The music is thumping in your skull and the five hunch punches you threw back earlier are starting to get to you. You want to leave.

Kyle leans, more like stumbles, into your side and shouts, “Hey, I’m gonna get another drink. You want one?” You instinctually cringe away from his close proximity and loud voice.

“Sure,” you say with a nod. After Kyle disappears into the crowd, you push your way through the partygoers and find the front door.

Finally outside, your ears take a moment to adjust to the silence. It was dead quiet outside with scarcely anyone around, save for a few people huddled together enjoying a smoke. You take a deep breath and let the cold air sting your lungs. A breeze cuts through you and you immediately regret your choice in outfit tonight. Luckily, your house was a short walk away. You step onto the paved sidewalk and can feel your legs wobble slightly. Your heels were also not the best choice for a walk. Okay, Y/n, focus, you think to yourself. Taking a few more tentative steps, you find your stride and head home.

You moved into the basement apartment of an old brick house from the 30’s at the start of the semester. The main floors above belonged to some guys who you rarely ever saw and, honestly, probably couldn’t pick them out of a crowd if your life depended on it. You had only had a few conversations with one of the guys, Jisung was his name…you think. He introduced himself a few days after you moved in while you were checking the mail on the front porch.

“You must be our new neighbor,” you jump, taken aback by the sudden announcement. Turning to face the source of the voice, you see a brunette boy with round cheeks looking at you with doe eyes. He reaches his hand out to greet you.

“Yeah…hi,” you say shyly as you take hold of his hand.

“I’m Jisung.” He flashes you a gummy smile.

“Y/n.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/n,” he says as he releases your hand.

“You too.”

“If you ever need a cup of sugar or a good weed guy-” Jisung waggles his eyebrows mischievously. “We’re just a few steps and a knock away.” He gives you a salute before going back inside the house. Well, he was adorable, you thought. You only ever saw his roommates in passing and had only exchanged a few words with Jisung since, but he was always kind to you.

As you finally approach the house, you reach inside your pocketbook to grab a cigarette and lighter. Hands shaking, you repeatedly click the lighter, but it refuses to work.

“Shit,” you quietly say to yourself. You were about to give up when a figure steps out from the shadows and alights a bright flame before your eyes. After a moment of adjusting to the darkness you see a man standing beside you, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips. You look at him bewildered, before you dip your head down. He holds his hand in front of you to protect the flame from the breeze. You take a drag of the cigarette and slowly exhale the smoke from the side of your mouth to avoid blowing in his face.

“Thanks.” He simply nods in response. You take a moment to look him over while he tries to light his own cigarette. He was broad, but lean with dark brown hair. He was also handsome, like super handsome. What the hell? Have you seen him around before? Surely you wouldn’t forget a face like his, right? He furrows his brows as he leans in closer to his flame. His sleeves are pushed up his forearms revealing a few large tattoos. You take note of his protruding veins and involuntarily gulp at the sight. He finally lights the cigarette and takes a puff before facing you. You peel your eyes from his toned arms to meet his. The man quietly smirks as he catches your roaming eyes.

“I’m Lee Minho, by the way. I don’t think we ever officially met.” He gives you a lazy wave rather than a handshake.

“Y/n,” you wave back and internally cringe at yourself. “You’re a roommate of Jisung’s?”

“Yeah, I live,” he turns around and points to the top window on the right. “Right there.”

“Nice,” was all you could think to say. You look away and take another puff of your cigarette while rubbing your temple. The consequences of tonight’s actions were swiftly starting to catch up.

Minho stirs you from your thoughts. “I didn’t know you smoked.” You’re taken aback by his assumption. He notices your confusion and clears his throat. “I just mean I never see you out here,” he says awkwardly. “And I assume you wouldn’t in that tiny basement.”

You consider momentarily whether or not he was insulting your apartment before speaking. “I..I don’t usually. Honestly, just socially or when I’m drunk.”

He slowly raises his eyebrows as he exhales some smoke. “Are you drunk right now?” His face furrows again. You wonder if that is his natural state.

“Maybe just a smidge,” you make a pinching gesture with your fingers and lightly giggle.

His face turns serious. “You shouldn’t be walking around this late at night by yourself, especially if you’re intoxicated. Something could happen to you.” You’re amused by his interest in your safety.

“Yes, daddy,” you say back a little too sarcastically.

Something shifts in his eyes though you can’t quite make out his expression. You feel his eyes bore into you despite part of his face being hidden by shadow. You, on the other hand, are at a disadvantage as the beams from the street lamp illuminate your face. Minho can see the pink rapidly forming on your cheeks. Trying not to cower at his intense stare, you hold his gaze for a minute before he finally breaks the tension.

“Do you normally dress like this in the middle of November?” He gestures to your tight, short black dress.

“I was coming from a party.”

“I gathered.” You scoff at his attitude. “Still, seems a bit reckless walking around without a coat.”

“What are you? The weather police?” You stand up a bit straighter and cross your arms.

“No-” You cut him off before he can continue.

“Does the way I dress bother you?” Officially annoyed, you can feel yourself getting worked up. Maybe you are more drunk than you originally realized.

“No.” Minho’s expression remains emotionless as he can see the anger rise in you. Taking a few wobbly steps towards him, you point your finger into his chest and ignore how solid he feels beneath to continue your beration.

“I can dress however I want regardless of the weather. I can also casually smoke a cigarette or drink a few drinks whenever I want and I don’t need anyone judging my actions, let alone a man I just met 5 minutes ago.” You slightly sway as you retreat from him. Minho gently places a hand on your right shoulder to steady you. The warmth from his touch sends a shiver down your spine through to your core.

“Okay, princess. Whatever you say.” You wrinkle your nose at the pet name and he notices your disapproval.

“Okay, princess,” you say back in a mimicking tone.

“Do I need to help you get to your apartment?”

“I’m fine,” you brush his hand off your shoulder with your own and feel your stomach flutter at the touch. You curse yourself internally for being so affected by this annoying handsome man.

“There are stairs and you’re in,” he looks down at your 4 inch heels and points. “Those.”

The audacity of this man right now. “Now he judges my choice in shoes!” You tsk and throw your hands in the air. “I can see myself all of 10 feet to my front door just fine without you. Thank you very much.” You take one last drag of your cigarette before throwing it to the ground. Your front heel presses firmly into the bud to snuff out the embers. Once out, you bend down to pick up the extinguished bud. Minho takes a moment to admire your bent figure in front of him before you stand up again.

“Wow, a feminist and she doesn’t litter.” You walk past him ignoring his comment. “Good night, Y/n. It was nice meeting you,” he says with sarcastic cheer.

Still walking away, you lift your hand up and flip him off as you head to your door. He shakes his head laughing as he watches you arrive safely. He takes one more drag from his cigarette before turning in for the night.

Holding the knob you pause before entering. You listen for his steps as he walks up the porch to his door. You try to clandestinely peek around the corner to get one last look at him. Minho is about to twist the handle when he feels your gaze. He looks over and catches your eye. Before you can see his reaction, you quickly look away and open your door. Slamming it shut you lean against the cold metal and exhale. Your heart starts fluttering in your chest.

Fuck.

MASTERLIST

Let me know what you think!

I will try to post Chapter II tomorrow.

343 notes · View notes

uzurimisery · 10 months

Text

chapter 2: the players. / coriolanus snow / nsfw

you can't tell me he wouldn't feel so pathetic for wanting you, for needing you. he'd always try and act like he didn't but when he jacked off it was always to thoughts of you.

wc: 6209

warnings: rough sex, male masturbation, hes a perv, not beta read

AO3 version | Series Master

Power and control were paramount to Coriolanus. The feeling of dominance, the ability to command respect, obedience, and even better fear, was a drug to him. It was need that drove him, an insatiable hunger for snow to always land on top.

In his eyes, the world was a game, and he was the key player. Moving and manoeuvring his pieces with calculated actions. The thrill of orchestrating every situation to his benefit pushing him further and further.

That need for control, for dominance, layered over fear and paranoia. He needed to be on top or every carefully crafted interaction he had ever had would be worthless. He’d be worthless. And he was not worthless.

It was so stupid how he lost composure from your naked form. They shaped you like sin, meant for bearing child after child. The swell of your breast suited for a babe attached to it rather than covered in fabrics. He could rut into you like an animal, just like those District filth did, and you could take it. Gnashing teeth, tearing skin, digging into your hips with every thrust. You were so fragile the night of the Gala, so soft, so breakable and by god did he want to break you. Make you pay for this vile feeling he had towards you now.

Maybe he’d even leave you with a child so you’d have a constant reminder of what he could do to you. He needed something to solve the thoughts that have been plaguing him.

For now, he had to keep dealing with this awful lunch with his former classmates and how all they wanted to do was talk about the current ongoing of high society. Idiots. Their conversations rang in his ears like nails on a chalkboard.

“Coriolanus, you never told us how you and the young Miss Gaul came to be together. I could have sworn you told us once that you hated her.”

What he wouldn’t give to take the glass in his hand and break it over Gaius Breen’s thick head. Maybe he’d finally shut up after that with half the glass lodged into his skull and the rest raining down around him. Blood pooling in his eyes as he stammered in confusion.

A shame he couldn’t. Still forced to contend with idiots.

Coriolanus responded with a disarming smile and soft chuckle, voice painting him as love struck. “You’re right Gaius,” he wanted to gag. “I said that once. Y/N and I, as you all know, constantly batted heads. She’s head-strong, never wanting to back down from a challenge. I don’t know when things changed between us, maybe when we were working on the 15th games, all those late nights in the lab.”

He trailed off.

“I started seeing her in a different light with all that forced proximity. Her mind is amazing, as is her wit. Ever since then, I’ve found myself drawn to her in a way I never thought possible.”

Lying was easy for him, but the shocking fact is that the last thing he said was true.

His words silenced the table for a second. The group was accustomed to his disdain of you, always one to be the first to find fault in your person. You were so far from his regular type.

“She’s rather big for you, isn’t she?” Didi Ring pointed out, malice hardly hidden. Clearly still bitter about being rejected by him in the past.

His smile faltered for a second, a flicked of anger flashing in his eyes. Nothing lingering around that anyone would notice.

“She is unlike anyone I’ve ever been with.” Despite his calm tone, his words were edged with venom. “Much appreciated difference to the delicate waifs I’m used to.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, bringing up an unrelated topic to move the conversation along.

Coriolanus relished her discomfort, enjoying the way he made her squirm. The master puppeteer pulling the strings. Each time the group came back around to talking about him, there’d be more questions about you, and he continued to tell the intricate tale of your relationship with him. Each part building you both us as the most in love couple in the Capitol.

Each word tasted like ash on his tongue. The whole luncheon only furthering the turmoil inside him.

He needed to sort his head quickly.

___________

Part of him wondered if what he said could change what the future looked like for the two of you. If he admitted that despite his dislike of your personality, he found the idea of taking you highly appealing. Consuming you, ruining you, making you high on lust. Would you let him? Or would you slap him in the face, scream and kick at him, call him names?

Both options appealed to him. You willingly lowered yourself to be on your knees in front of him, staring doe eyed while he fucked your mouth. But your fighting back excited him more. Pinning you down as you spat at him. A slap to your face when he tired of watching you struggle. To pull your mouth wide and force himself in. Maybe a mix of the two would be the best outcome.

This was clearly not sorting his head out. It was your fault.

The Capitol was unbearably hot today, almost oppressively so, now being three months from when your “relationship” started. He had nearly sweated through his undershirt at the luncheon. He was looking forward to getting into his private lab and getting his mind off everything. To realign with the cruel nature of himself.

As he stepped into the sterile, super cooled environment, the machines whirred, comforting him. It was his sanctuary. A place he controlled.

But you had to be there. Strolling out of your mother’s office in a high neck sleeveless dress that went down to your mid thigh. There were two slits on each side, showing off the expanse of your upper thighs. The cut was below being near any territory that ruined your modesty but was still provocative. When you turned to speak to an assistant, Snow realised the dress was backless as well. Only an intricate chain drew a line down the centre of your back, following your spine, securing the halter neck to the back of the dress. All a challenge to his self control.

He wanted to reach out, grab you by the neck, and press his front into your backside. Feel the warmth of your skin. He wanted to strip away your stature, and better yet, strip your clothes off. But he held himself back, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He still had to pay the part of a gentle lover.

Coriolanus walked up behind you, his footsteps echoing softly on the polished marble. He approached your side, movement purposeful, like a predator stalking its prey.

“Darling,” his hand slipped to the bare skin of your back. “I didn’t know you were going to be in today.” He kissed the top of your head, a display of his ownership of you. Even if you weren’t paper thin like his usual type, you still were small compared to his frame.

“Well, hello there! I was only stopping to drop something off for my mother. Tretonius asked me a question about something.”

“Oh, what about?”

Tretonious began explaining the situation to Coriolanus. Your eyes light up the whole time, animatedly talking through solutions and ideas with the assistant. Your voice was airy and carefree. You even shifted and leaned further into his touch.

Coriolanus, however, was barely listening. Lost in the sensation of your skin under his fingertips. Touching you made his mind go blank. All his plans put on pause and thought of you taking centre stage.

Goosebumps rose where his hand left.

God, you were so different from his usual type. You had sustenance, meat to you. Even strength, as much as a Capitol woman could have. But the draw he felt toward you guided him like the stars did to a lost man. He needed to touch you. To know that he influences you.

He had done leaps of faith for love before and never would he do it again. But he didn’t love you. Love was nothing but a weakness meant for fools. A mistake like that would never be made again.

As he watched you, heart pounding, the dangerous tightrope he was walking kept getting smaller. Teetering on the edge of the precipice, tempted to find salvation for his misdoings between your legs. The balance needed to be found, but god knows if he could do it.

“Thank you for your input, Miss Gaul. I’ll run the simulation with those parameters and inform you of the result.”

Ah yes, work. He was at work.

“Of course. I’m glad I could be of help to you.” You smiled widely, showing your perfect little teeth. Your lips coated in a peachy gloss with some glitter in it. The fluorescent lights of the lab making each particle sparkle.

He should sew your mouth shut and never let another person see your smile. He knew Tretonius was gay and had been married for the past five years, but he didn’t care.

“Walk me out Corio?”

“Of course, darling.”

The walk of you leaving the building was a blur in his mind. You had latched onto his arm as you walked, your chest pushed firmly against it. He didn’t know if it was the heat or your usual habit, but you were clearly braless. He could feel the pebbling of your nipples from the inhospitable environment of the lab. Wondering what they looked like, as he hadn’t seen them before. The sensation of them rubbing against his arm as you walked, sending jolts to his groin. You were intoxicating to him.

He hoped that the feeling would go away and his head would clear once you left the building.

But your presence lingered, a ghost in the laboratory, a reminder of the raw, untamed emotions he had so long suppressed. He couldn’t escape you, your presence would continue to haunt him, even in the privacy of his private lab.

His trousers were tight. You lecherous wench had reduced him to this.

He paced the room, his mind a storm of conflicting desires. One part of him craved the release of physical pleasure, the momentary escape from his emotions. Another part of him resisted, his pride too great to admit just the effect you had on him.

The tension was unbearable, the seam of his trousers rubbing against the head of his penis. The physical ache demanded his attention. With a hiss, he undid the clasp and pulled himself free. He was so hard he felt his head pounding. Even pulling his dick out made him groan.

Debased and depraved, he spat into his hand and tugged himself from base to tip. He thumbed at the slit on the tip, making him even more sensitive. A shudder ran down his spine.

He could picture you barging into his lab, like you had done so many times before, only this time, his cock would be out and on full display. You’d be so shocked, so embarrassed. Stuttering on your apologies and moving to close the door. He’d tell you to wait, he can get himself in order. Looking away while he half-heartedly tucked himself back in, unaware that he was already in front of you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you.

You’d get mad at him. Question his intentions. He would back you up against his desk, the ornately carved mahogany stopping just below your ass, forcing you to sit on it. You’d be so worked up, mouth running miles a minute as he grabbed your face and forced you to shut up. He wouldn’t be gentle while kissing you. It was about dominance and control.

One hand would squeeze your neck, cutting off just enough blood flow to make you lightheaded, while the other parted your legs and put his hips between yours, pushing your core against his erection.

You looked so cute when you were mad at him. He wondered how mad at him you’d be when he flipped you onto your back and pinned your hands behind you. Slipping off his belt, he’d secure them, leaving you unable to move. Then he’d flip up your little white dress and strike your ass. You never listened to him, but maybe you would respond to corporal punishment. He’d be hard with each strike, aiming to leave the outline of his hand with each hit.

He’d only stop when your cheeks were cherry red and tears ran down your face. He would be so glad they soundproofed all the private labs as you cried and cried about how mean he was being, how you didn’t understand what was going on. But you’d listen to him, do what he said.

After that, he’d slide your panties down, no doubt covered in sticky, heady wetness. You always struck him as the type to enjoy a heavy hand. He’d slip a finger inside you, testing the waters, before forcing a second one in. Scissoring your pussy, loosening it up for him, he’d tell you just how much he hated that you made him feel this way, pulling out to pinch at your clit. He’d bet the Plinth family fortune you’d squeal, and he’d watch your hole flutter around nothing.

Fuck, he had to know how you tasted.

He’d get down on his knees and push his tongue into you, familiarising himself with your taste, your scent. Then he’d slide down and circle his tongue on your clit. Sucking and pulling on it all while he slipped more fingers into your pussy.

He groaned, feeling himself come close.

He’d make you cum, at least three times analysing the best way to make it happen, before he finally stuffed you with his cock. His male friends had always said they enjoyed when their girls said it hurt, but he didn’t want it to hurt you. He wanted it to feel so good, drive you to the edge of insanity, and ruin you for anyone else. He’d make sure to take you to the edge and over it so many times.

By the time he’d finally cum inside you, you’d be a babbling mess. You’d even thank him for cumming inside you once he told you to. Then he’d pull out, tap his dick on your overly sensitive clit. You’d jump. All your muscles contracting as you tried to catch your breath and steady your mind.

Before anything could leak out of you, he’d take your panties and stuff them in you, making a neat little plug to keep his seed inside you. You’d still be so out of it, you’d moan when he did it too. He’d grab your jaw and spit into your mouth and you would smile while he did it.

His fantasies betrayed what he truly thought about you as he jerked himself off to completion in his lab after just a few minutes of harmlessly touching you. He came hot and heavy on his stomach, glad that at one point he had pulled his shirt up and was holding it by his teeth.

He had a mess to clean up, and this was not helping clear his head.

_________

You and Coriolanus had been asked to figure out a new pod for the upcoming games. Normally the process was a rough one, the two of you always clashing. But since the two of you had spent so much time together in the past six months playing your parts as lovers, and also working, you were more amicable with him.

Sometimes you even sought him out, valuing his mind and approach to design and solving problems. He was good at making the games. You really understood why your mother favoured him as her successor. You would be a great second hand for him one day in the future.

He had even become nicer to you recently. You could laugh and joke around with him if the mood was right. You found genuine camaraderie with him.

The transformation in your dynamic was a welcome change. You both spent so much time together. It was nice to have a solid relationship with him. The lines of where the act started and you began to feel harder to define. Perhaps the act just laid the foundation for a genuine friendship with him.

It was also complicated.

Coriolanus has always been attractive to you. His high cheekbones, pretty blue eyes, and soft blonde hair. He had only gotten more attractive as you both aged. Now at 26 he had filled out, some of his sharp-angles becoming defined muscle. He was tall too, with long slender legs. He was undeniably appealing.

The physical attraction, coupled with the new emotional bond, made a sticky mess of your feelings. It didn’t help that nearly everyday he would kiss and dote on you. The parts of yourself you never liked to admit relished the feeling of his hands on you, the brush of his lips against your own.

On the one hand, something real with him wouldn’t be the worst thing. You had similar views and came from similar backgrounds. HIs intelligence would keep you from ever getting bored in your relationship. It was clear that over time he’d even grown to value and respect your insight, as you did his.

On the other hand, the bubbling attraction you felt towards him complicated everything. You couldn’t help but fantasise about him in your private moments. You had caught him shirtless one day, trousers hung loose and unbuttoned as he got dressed. It was that day you had learned under his button ups and blazers his frame was well built. And that he had a very sizable member. Not super surprising since he was 6’4”.

Sometimes you caught him staring at you, eyes trailing up and down your form. He always thought he was so sly with it. Likely, the surrounding people didn’t notice, but you always did.

The initial stares were subtle, quick flicks to your chest and ass. Always when you wore anything form fitting or that showed more skin. You expected it to be honest. Men always are looking at your assets rather than your person. But things changed.

Now you could catch him staring at you from across the room, be it public or private. His eyes were always tracing the contours of your face, watching your every expression. You first had caught it at an event where someone told you a joke that made you throw your head back in laughter. It was like he was trying to memorise every detail or you and what each emotion looked like.

His body language also changed. It was more intimate. The distance between you is closer when you speak. His shoulders relaxed. He’d brush his fingers against you when motioning to things, not afraid to touch you anymore, even casually.

His smile, usually plastered on like a mask, became genuine when you were alone, laughter more frequent and uncontrolled when together. His voice would drop, raspy and slow, that went straight to your core when he spoke into your ear.

You couldn’t tell if it was part of the act or things had changed within him. He didn’t hate you now; you knew that much.

“What do you think about making a hallucinogenic that coats the Rovers’ teeth?” He tapped a pencil against his notebook. “If we got specific, we could make them picture their loved ones when they saw other tributes.”

An interesting idea, but synthesising something so specific would be impossible to happen before the next games. “It’s a good idea, but I think we need to be more general with it.”

“So just make them hallucinate?”

“Yeah.”

He made the face he made when he was creating different outcomes in his head. Eyes scanning the room as if there was a display in front of him. He could always create a list of variables that could come up.

Humming, he spoke. “I like it.” and then he went back to writing.

His hands were delicate. Long and slender fingers. You wondered if he played the piano. Surely he did. It was refined and gentlemanly, just like he likes to project. Though as more time led you to better understand him, he very much wasn’t. He watched you with hunger anytime you were out.

You often caught yourself questioning if that hunger was real. It certainly looked real. It felt real.

There was a time when one of your heels had broken during a night out and he had carried you from place to place until it was time to leave. During that night, his hands suspiciously were always on your ass. Once you even felt him squeeze the meat, saying that he was “adjusting his grip.”

He felt like fire. You knew the danger of playing with it, but you didn’t fear getting burned. So you kept him at an arm’s length. Always wondering if there was something more or if he had just fully committed to his role. Perhaps you’d never know.

But in the night, when you lay in bed, whispering your secrets to the stars, they’d be ones of him. How you wanted him, or at least to try him. To know him truly. And when you lay there desperate and needy, it was him you thought of between your legs.

“Coriolanus?” there was a question you had to ask him now. “Are we friends?”

It hung in the air. You felt like it was a mistake now to ask him that. He paused his writing, eyes locking with yours. They raged like a tempest, an unreadable depth you were afraid to swim in.

“Friends?” The word tasted strange on his lips.

He had only ever had one friend, Sejanus. If they were really friends was something he didn’t know. He had simply not belittled Sejanus growing up and then, by the time they were mentoring for the 10th games, continued contact would imply that they were close friends. That’s why Dr. Gaul had made him go into the arena after him.

But he had killed Sejanus. It didn’t make him sad either. His “grief” was about being caught, that ‘d be the next to die. But since the guns were gone and everyone else involved was dead, he truly didn’t care about what had happened to Sejanus.

“Yeah friends. I think it’d be nice if we were friends. All things considered.”

You watched the surprise wash across his features briefly. He seemed caught off guard by your question. Like he had never considered the idea.

Coriolanus Snow did not have friends, only enemies.

“I think so too.”

In that moment, a fragile connection became more solid, better defined the boundaries of your actions. It was uncharted territory. A venture into the unknown with a man who you hated months prior.

___________

A week had passed since you had last seen Coriolanus and somehow in that time he had gotten sour with you. Scowling at you the moment you were in private. You had no idea what caused the change. The two of you had officially been friends for four months now.

And despite his glaring, here you both were at some random high society member’s house for a “private dinner” of 80 people, and Coriolanus’ hand had not stopped rubbing up and down your thigh since you sat down to eat. He got dangerously close to your core, fingers brushing the crease of your thigh. You could almost think it was his own desire and not for show. And of course your dress just had to have a slit up to your hip on that side too, giving him plenty of access to your bare skin.

Despite the odd behaviour from him, you remained outwardly composed and playing your part. The dinner was in full swing; the drinks flowing. Both of you had had your share of them too, perhaps Coriolanus had too much.

By now, everyone around you was too intoxicated to notice if you told him off.

“Coriolanus Snow, remove your hand this instant.”

He paused, hand settling on the apex of your thigh. Then with a smirk he brought his mouth near your ear, he breathed on your neck making you shiver. “Or what?” His voice was laced with mockery.

“I will make a scene,” you hissed, eyes narrowed. “And I will tell everyone here how their golden boy can’t get it up.”

He laughed loudly, drawing a few eyes towards you both.

“Thinking about something you shouldn’t be? You know you wouldn’t have to worry about that.” he rose from his seat kissing you roughly as he left. He had drank too much, and felt too loose.

Sobriety was his norm. He hated the sensation of being intoxicated. But this was an event he had to drink at. That made it even harder to keep his thoughts straight around you. Every drink was so bitter and burned the back of his throat. Somehow, he wandered out to a balcony and found company in some semi-notable members of society. The cool night air helped him sober up some.

The entire purpose of him being here was to maintain the illusion of normalcy. For you both to blend in with the polished appearances and mannerisms of the crowd. To push the narrative that the Plinth and the Gaul families supported him wholly. He kept the idle conversation he had made with the group outside until they scampered inside, cold from the chill of the night..

Staring out over the city that one day he would rule, he felt only partially satisfied. Like accomplishing what he has sought to do since he was a child was lacking. Having the country would fulfil one of his goals, but he had more than he wanted. He was so close to that goal too. But even with the thrill of knowing it would all soon be his, a gnawing emptiness chewed through his stomach. The twinkling lights below are no longer enough.

He thought of you. Not even in a debauched way this time. He thought about your laugh, how you snorted when something amused you slightly. You always just wormed your way into his every waking moment. It had been nearly six months since you had started pretending to be lovers.

At first, he hated you. He thought you arrogant and entitled. Then he desired you. Your body is constantly dancing on the edges of his mind. Now he likes you, or thinks he does. You don’t annoy him anymore and you were even friends. He even sought out your company while in the labs. Or the idea of you he liked. Your rough edges cutting against him, making him bleed, but he’d bandage himself and touch you again.

This was the fine line drawn finally so blurred. Smudged beyond belief. The intangible made tangible. Ambition and desire. Power and control.

“You alright? You’ve been out here for nearly an hour.” There you were. Always so devoted to your role, to him. You’d come out here during the winter in your thin dress to find him.

God, that dress.

Red silk fabric draped and pooling around your body. The slit on your thigh and the deep plunge down to just above your navel. It was so unfair to him. How could he not want you when you looked so delectable?

He had had too much to drink. His ribs hurt from how hard his heart was drumming in his chest. Anguish stirred within him, regret and despair burning him.

He wanted to scream and cry. Throw his pocket watch off the edge of the building, shatter the illusion of his life. It was so unfair. He tried so hard, did so much. Then you just had to ruin it all. He had given up these feelings, the craving for intimacy. Lucy Gray had killed that part of him. Torn his heart out and showed him how weak he really was, and now it was happening again. Convinced him that he was immune to love’s allure, no longer beholden to such a useless emotion.

Your presence had infiltrated his every waking moment. He breathed and thought of you. The thoughts only stopped when he slept. Your effortless charm, captivating looks, it was just so unfair.

Was it love that he felt for you or just an overinflation of his own desires, an idealised version of you or the flawed person in front of him?

But you just had to be you.

“Corio, are you okay? What’s wrong?” your hand cradled his cheek as you leaned over, scanning his face, trying to figure out what was wrong. Your touch was so gentle to such a broken man, sending jolts of electricity across his skin.

How could he tell you that there was something so irreparably broken within him? Something that wanted to lock you away and keep you just for himself. To study you and break you down. To wake up next to you in the morning. To know your darkest secrets. To consume your very person. He went from hating you to needing you in his life so desperately.

That he needed you carnally. He could never become the president, but die happy if he had the chance to lie with you.

Your words hung in the air, an invitation to open up and let him in. But he was so lost. He couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. And he was so, so scared. Scared of his feelings, scared of being honest, scared of losing control. But most of all, scared you’d run just like she had.

But he knew no matter how dark his thoughts were, no matter how strong the desire to break you became, he wouldn’t be able to do it.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, barely audible with the wind blowing, but you heard him.

Your eyebrows drew tight in concern. God, you cared for him. Or was it an act? You were so good at playing your part. He just wanted to know if you were honest with him or not. If you could just break his spirit again, he could go back to normal, get over this hump.

“You’re going to freeze out here. We should go inside.”

“I don’t want to.” His throat bobbed. “I just…” finding the right words to say was so hard when the curtain fell and the actor became just a man again.

You sat down next to him, wrapping your shawl around the both of you. “You just what?” you spoke your tone so soft and intimate it made his head spin. “Talk to me. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“I just…” fuck, why can’t he just be honest with himself for once? Stupid Coriolanus, weak and incompetent.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “It’s okay if you don’t know how to say it.” tender comfort spoken like a true lover. “Sometimes it’s enough to just be here together.”

He tilted his head back, tears threatening to spill. He shut them, letting out a sigh. He has never been a coward before. He had always been a man of plan and action. He didn’t have a plan now, but he could take action.

He turned, facing you, taking all of you in. The wind blew through loose hairs, making them flutter around your face. One got caught in your lipstick, the semi glossy sheen trapping it. He pulled it free, making sure not to mess up the colour, and tucked it behind your ear. He couldn’t take his hand away from the side of your face.

“Your hands are freezing.” You giggled as if he had told you a stupid joke that made him laugh in response.

“I think I’ve gone insane,” he confessed, more to himself than you. “I can’t play this part anymore. I can’t do this anymore.”

You interrupted him, protesting against whatever he was going to say. “Corio, we have to-” but he cut you off.

“I can’t,” his voice broke with desperation. “I can’t keep pretending that I love you and that when we’re alone, the lines are so blurred it’s not even a line anymore.”

Unspoken emotions hung in the air. He searched your eyes, searching for anything that might give away what you were feeling, but just like usual, he couldn’t read you. He only saw himself desperate and bewitched by you.

The weight of what could come next pressed down on him, tightening his chest. He couldn’t bear the act anymore. The constant struggle to only want you in show. But there was something on the undercurrent with you. Maybe he was projecting his own feelings on you, but he was so certain of it he could almost taste it. It was a risk, a jump into the unknown. He was asking for rejection. For humiliation, just like he had faced before.

Fuck it. Fuck it all.

He leaned in, breath mixing with yours, and kissed you. He actually kissed you. Softly and gently, like the whisper of change. He was ready to pull away, for you to tell him there wasn’t a crowd and you didn’t need to act, to say you were friends and nothing more. But as he was pulling away, your hands wrapped themselves into his hair pulling him back in.

It was an invitation, an answer, a reciprocation. A surrender to the moment, a mutual yearning.

He kissed you like he was starving and you were the last meal he would ever have. He kissed you like you were the cure for everything wrong with him. He kissed you like if he stopped, the world itself would never turn again, the sun would never rise, the tides would never change, that life itself would end. He would cut out his heart if you asked him to. He’d find a way to stay alive and watch you consume it.

His hands were groping at your side, kneading the skin. He was so gentle, so different from how he normally treated you. If he died tonight, pushed off the building by you, he would smile as he fell. Everything he felt, he always felt it so intensely and you burned through him like a wildfire.

There was so much passion. It buzzed in the air, drowning out the sounds of the dinner party. He would give you anything, done anything, to stay like this with you. But it wouldn’t last forever. So he kissed you with all care and longing he had in his heart, pouring his honest truth into it. He wanted to imprint himself on you, leave a mark that would never fade. He would stain you in his colours that would never fade.

In this moment, there was no pretence, no act, no script. It was just him and you.

He had crossed the line, finally shattering the illusion that you had both worked so hard to maintain and craft. He was terrified of the consequences, that if at the end of this you too would run from him. Scared of what he really was.

But he would never be the same. This had changed him forever. The never ending itch was scratched, but he needed more. His hunger for you only increased.

As Coriolanus pulled away, his eyes met yours. The guard you had was down and he could read something in them. Confusion clear, but the undercurrent of hope shining through. Your lips swollen and breaths quick gasps.

You were so painfully beautiful.

You wanted the same thing as him, for the act to be over. The taste of something real changing you both. There was so much that needed to be said, but neither of you moved to.

Instead, you kissed again, and again, and again, each more passionate than the last. Your tongue was soft and wet against his. The chilly night air forgotten as you crawled into his lap. Coriolanus couldn’t stop his hands from running over every bit of you he could reach. When one reached your ass and he squeezed, you moaned into his mouth.

He had thought long and hard about what your moans would sound like, but the reality was so much better than he could ever imagine.

His kisses trailed down your neck, making you gasp and shiver. God, he loved your reactions. You brought out his basest animal instinct. He bit and sucked at your neck, leaving a hickey at the junction before going back to your lips.

You pressed your chest tight against his, hips grinding down against his own. He wanted to leave this party now, to take you by the arm and bring you back to his penthouse. There was no coming back from this, not stopping it. He couldn’t pretend anymore.

The death of an actor.

#uzuri writes #hunger games imagine #hunger games smut #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #the death of an actor #coriolanus snow x reader #tdoaa

340 notes · View notes

ratsandclocks · 2 years

Text

Sharing (part 1)

(Male Reader/Rodolfo Parra/Valeria Garza/Alejandro Vargas/Phillip Graves)

📝3,508 words(oops) | 18+ | Smut

Alejandro and Graves cannot seem to get along when it comes to having you. Valeria and Rudy hate seeing you upset. They stir up a plan where everyone is happy at the end of the night.

Tags: polyamorous, F/M/M/M/M, Sub/Dom dynamics, pillow prince reader, punishment, restraints, forced proximity, voyeurism, oral(m & f receiving), anal fingering, self imposed edging, overstimulation, subspace(?), no use of y/n, use of petnames; Babe, Baby, Babyboy, Cielito, Cariño, Corazoncito

Dom Valeria, Dom Rudy, Switch Alejandro, Switch Graves, Sub Male Reader.

Note: This took a bit longer to write since you can see, the fic itself got longer than I first anticipated. I tried my best to give everyone some attention but its hard when there's five fucking people. Might finish tomorrow or the day after depending how busy I get but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyways this has gotten out of hand... and into the other cuz im jerking off—

Disclaimer: Author does not speak Spanish(fluently) and only used Google for minimum research. If any of the Spanish words used seem off, grammatically incorrect, and/or inappropriate, please inform me and I'll try to fix them.

A petty argument. One that's been going on for about a week between Alejandro and Graves. That's what got you all in this position.

You don't even remember what it was they were fighting about—could be that food you left on the fridge for them that they decidedly did not want to share with each other, could be Philip's now-empty bottle of aftershave that you like the smell of so much, could be that time you wore his shirt to sleep instead of Alejandro's—who cares what the fight was, all you know is that there's heat between them when it comes to you and you did not like that…

Now Rudy didn't like seeing you in distress, neither did Valeria. So naturally, they'd do something about that. And sure enough, they did.

"You're fucking with me." Graves says, as a matter of factly as he watched Rudy handcuff his right hand with Alejandro's left to his pure dismay. Their other hands weren't free either, as they were as tightly tied to their respective sides of the sofa, leaving them immobilized and stuck close to each other. Looking at them together feels like watching two dogs wary of each other, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation—you were simply glad that they cannot do anything about it, but you do pity their place. Their seat was facing the bed, right where you sat with Valeria comfortably kneeling beside you, the two of you not wearing more than your shirt and underwear.

"I'm not." Rudy responded firmly, arms crossed as he glared at the two. "You don't get to touch mi Cielito or yourselves. Not until you start getting along."

"Rudy…" you plead in their defense, but the man only looked at you softly, denied you with a shake of his head, then walked closer towards the bed.

"Don't feel too bad about them now, Cariño." Valeria cooed to you, absently stroking your hair. Her eyes were on the two tied up men while she spoke, directing her words to them just as much. "They weren't being nice, were they?"

"I'm not being nice?" Alejandro finally spoke, pointing his left hand to himself accusingly, only for Graves to pull away the same handcuffed arm. "Look at him!" Alejandro defended himself.

"You've upset our boy, Gilipollas." Rudy lectured, eyes still on yours. You would've said something—another plea or something along the lines of 'you don't have to do this' or 'it's not a big deal'—but Rudy was sitting with you now, hands on your chin to face him and stare at his longing eyes, and that look effectively shut you up. "He deserves way better from you both."

You gasped in surprise when Valeria gripped your hair to pull your head back, her lips suddenly latched onto your neck, already finding the sensitive spot just under your ear. "That he does."

Hands were all over you in a matter of seconds. Valeria's were groping and undressing you, not rushing but surely more forceful than Rudy's. He was way gentler compared to her, softly caressing every inch of your skin she exposes as he kissed your mouth, slowly but just as passionately as Valeria's. All of it familiar, all of it just right.

Heat rushes up your skin. It was already making you lightheaded, their contrast nearly giving you whiplash, but you love seeing their differences, making up for what each other lacked. How they mix so well just to please you, all of them and more just for you—something you wish Alejandro and Phillip could do together.

"You were the one who stole my shit." You heard Graves grumbling. When you looked at him, your eyes met and caught him in a scowl, but his frustrations were clearly directed towards the man beside him.

"It's a shared bathroom, Pendejo." Alejandro quipped, to which he earned a tug on the cuffs from the other man. He tugged back and now they look like little brats fighting over a piece of candy. You couldn't help but frown at the sight, which Rudy quite immediately notices.

"Ey!" He yelled at them and the two men froze in an instant. "You keep fighting like that and you won't get to touch him at all."

"It's not fair, Rudy." Alejandro whined, easily switching from hostility to something more submissive, something he does that usually riles up Rudy. Not tonight though.

"And you're not being fair to him either. Just look—" at that, Alejandro finally looked at you. Your brows furrowed and eyes slightly teary, and clearly not for the reason of being in the debauched position Valeria's hands put you in. Oh how that just breaks his heart, seeing his poor corazoncito longing for him, so close yet so far. How hurt you must be from all his stubbornness.

"You think he wants you two away? That he doesn't want you here with him right now? Think he doesn't want to feel you inside him? You two are the ones depriving our lover of yourselves. Think about that."

"Do you want them, Cariño?" Valeria lewdly whispered to your ears, but loud enough that the other men could hear it. You only nodded, unable to form words while she trails her hands into your boxers, rubbing and stroking you under the garment. "Want their cocks inside of you? Touch every inch of your skin? Fuck you 'til you can't walk like you deserve it?"

"Mhm…" you moaned when her hand gripped your cock, your hips involuntary fucking into her hand.

"Then they gotta be good, right? Else they don't deserve you. Bad boys don't get to touch my sweet sweet boy."

She's pulled you out now and your cock was on full display for them all, hard and dripping as she stroked it. Rudy took off your boxers, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room to be picked up later in the next morning. When Valeria let go of you, Rudy took over quickly, teasing his thumb on your slit and you arched your back, promptly falling onto the bed with a whine. You were panting when he let the teasing off, but he didn't stop stroking you in slow firm tugs. Valeria chuckled fondly at the sight as she's taking off her panties, giving you and the rest of the men a show.

"Look at him, Rudy," she says, seductively crawling back towards you, "so sweet and sensitive. Such a shame they won't get a taste."

"Val…" you whined, reaching for her. She's cradling your face now, making you look straight into her eyes.

"You need something, Cariño?" It was almost condescending how she said it, but god if it weren't making you desperately buck into Rudy's hand you would've complained.

"Need you… up here—" she kissed you then—mouth on yours, full of hunger, moans and grunts, teeth and tongue, completely overpowering you—before pulling away and crawling farther. She moved to hover just above your head, legs on either side as she reposition herself with her cunt just above your face. Another whine escaped you when her hands went back to your hair, pressing you into the bed.

"Show me then," she ordered, "show me how much you need me. Show them what they're missing out on."

Your hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her down and ravaging her like she's the last meal of your life. You lap your tongue at her, burying your face deeper and pushing in your tongue farther. Nose nuzzling to her clit so perfectly that she twitches above you. She was clearly amused, letting out an exaggerated moan to egg on the tied up men.

"So good for me, Cariño. There, there, just like that—dios mio, that tongue! So good. Keep going, baby. They don't deserve you like this."

"Fuck's sake." Graves grunted. Valeria knows just how much he loves your mouth, because you know how to use it. He loves it when you kiss him and try to win him over, giving a good fight only to let him take charge in the end. He loves when you nip and bite on his skin, not too hard to hurt but just soft enough to make him feel like heaven. He loves when you suck on his cock desperately like it's your life on the line, loves how you use that tongue oh so sweetly around him. He loves everything about that mouth of yours, and now Valeria's using it against him.

You thrust your hips when you felt Rudy's tongue circling on your tip. He lifted one of your legs up with his free hand, squeezing lube on your balls to drip onto your ass, and proceeding to tease a finger into your hole. It wasn't much trouble prepping you—with how much you get fucked all the time, surely it won't be—but he still takes his time with it, pushing in slowly, always in search of something, making sure you feel good all throughout. He fucked you earnestly with those fingers, twitching when he found that spot that melts your bones and he instantly stopped with his movements, only to start profusely rubbing that spot and make you whine shamelessly.

And you heard Alejandro let out a strangled groan, now fully aware of Rudy's intentions to tease him.

"So cruel, mi rey." He groaned at the sight, he can see so clearly when Rudy's putting you on display like that. He always loved your ass—loved the involuntary movements you make and sounds you let out when it was him playing with you, making you feel good, when you squeeze around his cock plunged deep into you. God, does he wish it was him in Rudy's place, and Rudy knows that really well, so he's making it a show. Rudy pulled his mouth away.

"Keep watching." Rudy spoke before shoving your cock straight down his throat without a warning.

You moaned into Valeria's cunt, sending shivers down her spine and she chuckled. Now fully sat on your face, she grinds her hips on you, vigorously chasing her high until she stiffens above you, letting out a long moan and sigh in relief as she came on your face. She gave a few more thrusts into your tongue before getting off to the side, lifting you to lay your body between her thighs.

"Would you look at that, Babe." She addressed Graves who is now looking at you with a certain thirst in his gaze. Your face glistening in Val's wetness, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pleasure as Rudy kept bobbing his head, working you up. Valeria's hands traveled to your chest, pinching your nipples and making your back arch. "You wanna come, cariño?" She asked and Rudy sucked on the tip of your cock his fingers fucking into you faster to get you off quicker. But you mewled in response, head shaking as you held tightly on her arms and he immediately slowed his movements down.

"No?" Rudy asks, a heated look on his face. "What do you want then? Wanna get fucked in the ass, mi Cielito? Need a cock to come on to?"

You didn't need to say anything more, you nodded and Rudy carefully let you go. Your chest was heaving and you felt weak, too deep into the headspace Valeria had put you in and the pleasure you were just swimming in. You couldn't move on your own and so the two of them worked together to reposition you.

Now you're facing the men on their seats, your chest pressing on the bed with your ass up in the air. The men in front of you were looking at you with a certain darkness in their eyes, they seem painfully hard under their tight pants, their chests rising visibly with their heavy breathing. Graves couldn't stay still in his seat, constantly moving as if it'll do anything to ease the tightness in his pants—it doesn't.

"Phillip…" you whined, eyes staring at him with haze, god you were so pretty. The man could only groan in response.

"You alright, Baby?" Graves asked, because as much as he wants to take care of you, it's all he could do.

Rudy's hand was on you again, splayed out on the bottom of your spine while the other held his cock, teasing your hole just before slowly prodding in. He was big, you knew that—you're used to it, in fact—but it never fails to make you keen, feeling the stretch no matter how much grueling prep he gives you. You bit your lip as you tried to relax, sighing when you finally felt him bottom out.

"You were asked a question, Cielito." Rudy reminded you, hand reaching to stroke your hair as if to help you ground yourself. You leaned into the touch as you moaned, letting out an affirmative 'Mhm' to answer.

"I'm good…" you sighed, plopping yourself back into the bed, your hands reached to clench the sheets and prepare yourself. You grind your ass to feel Rudy's cock and it's all he needed before he started fucking you.

It was slow and sensual, dragging his thick cock to the tip before slowly pushing in again. You could almost feel every vein on him, every time his head almost caught on that sweet spot inside you but just barely missed—you knew he's doing it on purpose.

"So pretty, isn't he?" You heard Valeria. You don't remember when but she's now behind Alejandro and Graves, caressing Phillip's face with one hand while exploring Alejandro's body with the other. Graves had his head leaning against her while the other man was tense in his seat, trying—failing—to feign control of his desires.

"See what you're fighting for? Getting fucked raw without you?" Valeria said to Phillip, lightly biting his ear to tease before turning to Alejandro neck. "All because you don't know how to share."

You screamed when Rudy suddenly slammed into you, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Then he took pace, quickening without losing the strength in his thrusts. You were a moaning mess, broken noises leaving your mouth as air gets punched out of your lungs.

"Does it feel good?" Valeria asked and you barely registered that it was directed at you, all you could manage was a pathetic whimper as Rudy mercilessly pounded into you, "Words, Cariño."

"S'good… s-so—" you let out a yelp when Rudy finally hits that spot, deciding to keep abusing it and leaving you a thoughtless, sobbing, mewling mess under him—Under Valeria, and under all of their gazes. You were boneless on the bed, head in the clouds, you felt like you'd float through the ceiling any second, and you were thankful for the moment Rudy put his weight on your back, engulfing you with warmth as perched his hands on the side of your head.

Your gaze wandered through the room, processing anything was a struggle with your mind being full of haze, but you could see Graves struggling through his breathing and the bulge in his uncomfortably tight jeans. He bit his lips as your eyes met and you could only imagine the torture he was in right now. You were like a caged man observing a hungry shark in the ocean—you can see the urge it had to pounce, to destroy the barrier between you, and devour you til you're nothing but bones. But he can't have his way, can't even touch himself, can't give himself any relief. All he could do was simply watch you in your position, so enticing, so good for them all.

It was when he broke the connection between you that you noticed Alejandro had his hand on Graves' thighs, slowly rubbing up on him with a proud smirk on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" He asked Alejandro, a little wary, but just as much curious of the man's intentions.

"Can't touch ourselves, but they didn't say anything about touching each other. Might as well give the boy a little show." Alejandro said, his hand traveling farther into Graves' inner thigh. His breath hitched, swallowing a lump in his throat at the teasing touch. "Unless you'd rather you sit your ass there wishing you could get off by just watching."

"No." Graves said firmly without missing a beat—much to your surprise. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and let out a sigh, "Keep… keep going…"

That proud smirk on Alejandro's face got impossibly more smug and he did not hesitate to move his hand straight to Graves' bulge, pressing and rubbing on it with enough pressure to make the man keen and relax on his seat. Alejandro was quick to decide to unbutton Phillip's jeans, shoving his hand in and pulling his cock out. It was painfully red, dripping and desperate, and by God did you want it in your mouth right now.

You would've begged Rudy to let you suck off the man, but Alejandro is quicker than you could think. He was already leaning down—as uncomfortable the restraints make it—and licking the precum before it could drip down his shaft, then bobbing his head while his hand pumped the man's shaft. Phillip let out a sigh, finally opening his eyes to find Valeria beside him, looking down at him with amusement.

"What?" Graves panted, eyes heavy as he tried to read Valeria's look.

"Nothing," she feigned, leaning down closer to the man, then pulling his head back til his neck was exposed enough to the woman's desire, watching the man's throat bob as he swallowed, "you just look so cute getting along."

She kissed him with vigor, the other hand cradling his neck and their mouth fought for dominance with Valeria at an advantage. Her hand traveled to his chest, squeezing it once before traveling farther down his stomach, tracing every muscle until she reached Alejandro's head. She pulled him off and you can see his stubble glistening from his own spit, she quickly moved into kissing him now, freeing her other hand to reach for Graves' cock, covering Alejandro's bigger hand and pumping it together.

As much as you wanted to keep watching, you couldn't look anymore with how much Rudy was trying to keep your attention on his cock, it was a task to even keep your eyes open. Desperately needing to ground yourself, you reach for Rudy's hand, which he decided to interlock with yours. You gripped it like a lifeline, feeling that heat in your stomach starting to overfill and you were tightening around Rudy.

"Oh? You close, Cielito?" Rudy panted next to your ear, "Are you gonna come? Go ahead, you can do it. Come on my cock."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your cock twitched and soon enough, you came hard, face buried into the mattress muffling your otherwise loud moan, shuddering from the pleasure that shot through your spine.

Rudy fucked you through your orgasm, riding it out with you until the sensation starts edging into overwhelming pleasure. He was still pounding into you, quicker and harder, chasing his own end.

"So close, mi Cielito. Just a little more, I know you can take more. Take it."

Your legs are near to giving up, thighs shook from the exertion, but you stayed still, stayed good for him and let him use you all he wants. You were rewarded with a tight embrace, and the warm feeling of his cum painting your walls. He finally slowed down, hips stuttering as he slowly pulled out. Your legs finally gave out and you went limp on the soft mattress, Rudy followed with you to keep embracing you from behind, giving your back little pecks of kisses and nuzzling on your shoulder.

"Muy bien, mi Cielito. You did so good for me." You felt his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you just under your ear, caressing your hips and just showering you with all the love he could give. You'd love to stay like that for eternity, engulfed in his affection, you could never get used to it. Unfortunately, it had to end sooner than you wished. He pulled away, leaving your behind exposed to the cold air, but not for long as you felt strong arms flip you to lay on your back.

You find all of them above you, even Alejandro and Graves now free from their restraints on the seat.

"Still with us, Cariño?" Asked Valeria and you smiled, letting out a sigh that's more of a stuttered laugh. You couldn't help the heat crawling back up your skin seeing them all looking down at you, you swallowed a lump in your throat before answering.

"Never left." You spoke, part smugness, part teasing. They all smiled, fully understanding what you meant by those words alone—more.

"Good." Alejandro growls, and your stomach drops at the feral look he gives you, his smile widening, tongue going over his teeth like watching food served to him on a silver platter.

"Because two of us just learned how to share."

(To be continued…)

#call of duty #cod fanfic #cod x male reader #male reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra #valeria garza #phillip graves #alejandro x reader #rodolfo x valeria #rodolfo x alejandro #rodolfo x reader #graves x male reader #valeria x reader #cod x reader #cod x you #i made the gif myself and i hate it #my writing

1K notes · View notes