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witchywcmans · 7 months ago

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT. | LAIOS TOUDEN

synopsis ━━ laios can't seem to get enough after he first tastes you. but the lines in your friendship are beginning to blur. it's only when your party happens upon your ex-lover in the dungeon that laios realizes what he should've communicated all along. (laios x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ cunnilingus, praise, size kink, jealousy, classic missionary, unprotected sex, creampie, mutual pining/confession, laios and reader are not good with communication (but they work it out v well), laios is self concious but reader is so kind to him !!, monster facts as dirty talk. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 4.8k

song inspiration ━━ awkward, sza / cherry, lana del rey / hunger, florence + the machine

author's note ━━ TECHNICALLY, this could be a part 2 to please, eat, so I'm just going to link as a part 2. you don't have to read please, eat before this, but if you like laios then obvi you should read it anyway!! I'm SO SORRY it took me so long to post another laios x reader 😭 I was trying to finish the manga before I wrote something else dungeon meshi-related, but life gets the way. oh well. also, this might be controversial, but in this fic I’m refuting the “laios is a virgin” allegations. SUE ME. I simply don’t believe he’s been adventuring so long and hasn’t been with anyone, that is crazzzy to me !! but that's just me 🤗 we all have our fave headcanons! my goal when I finish the manga is to write something for laios at the end of the story hehe. I hope you guys enjoy part 2! this one-shot is dedicated to @satoogojos 🫶

🪽 part i: PLEASE, EAT. / part ii: FORBIDDEN FRUIT. / part iii: TOO SWEET.

Catching feelings for your friend was truly a fickle thing. But you guessed it was bound to happen with what you and Laios were doing behind everyone’s back. Each night, after your party tucked themselves in their bedrolls, Laios would so delicately lace your arm through his and you two would find a private area … before he completely buried his face between your thighs.

He was fixated on the way you tasted, the way he could get you to cum so easily on his tongue. You were the only dessert he wanted after every dinner. Some nights, he would have you writhing from overstimulation, but he just wanted more of you – so much more.

It was a little confusing, though, how he didn’t ask for anything in return. Laios seemed to grind against the cold, dungeon floor as his tongue lapped at your essence, sometimes cumming in his pants and moaning between your legs. Or he would politely excuse himself after he was done, taking care of himself as you cleaned yourself up. You didn’t quite understand it, and maybe neither did he. You both were just too awkward to broach the subject.

The incident with the sea serpent had changed your friendship forever. Not only did Laios save you from becoming one, but the intimacy you both now shared seemed to open you up more. You found yourself divulging more secrets to him, leaning on him when you needed someone, even being more impartial to Senshi’s monster meals. And you liked the way he smiled, how he looked at you. You liked how fearless he was. You liked how protective he was over the party, especially you. You … really liked him. Far more than a crush. In fact, you wished you could go back in time and just have a crush. But your feelings for him became deeper as you crept lower and lower into the dungeon together. Your goal was still to come out of this dungeon alive, but now … you hoped that you would make it out alive together.

What a foolish girl you had become.

You tried to remain focused on the path ahead of you, but you were clearly lost in thought today. The party had reached floor 6, which meant you were closer and closer to the deepest part of the dungeon and hopefully rescuing Laios’ sister, Falin. The last thing you expected to see on floor 6 were other adventurers, let alone your ex.

You were hesitant to call him an ex, since you two had never really been anything but a warm body in each other’s beds while living on the surface. But when your bodies collided and your eyes met his, you realized why you had taken a liking to him in the first place. He had been a butcher’s son, handy with an axe, and you had liked his big, strong hands. You almost fell right into him from the slippery dungeon floor, but those strong hands seemed to catch you like you were made of air. “It’s you,” he chuckled, setting you up straight and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Look at you … feels like it was just yesterday when we were on the surface, huh?”

Marcille looked like she didn’t want anything to do with your ex and his party, but Senshi was very kind to offer them food, if they needed it. Chilchuck seemed neutral, and Laios … you still couldn’t read Laios as easily as the rest of the party. He watched your ex like a hawk, standing behind you as if to protect you. Your ex’s hands were big, sure, but Laios was tall, his shoulders wide and intimidating even without the armor. Laios narrowed his eyes slightly whenever he saw your ex’s gaze roam over you, like he was undressing you with his eyes. And you weren’t sure if you caught it – it only lasted a second – but did Laios clench his hands into fists?

There wasn’t enough time in the world to dwell on it. Especially when you had ghosts seemingly pulling you into another area of the dungeon and waking up on a dirt path, a beautiful golden castle mounted ahead of you. Your party was initially confused, walking into the village and seeing monsters living harmoniously with humans. After becoming acquainted with the village, you and your friends were offered a warm, delicious meal with Yaad, the lord of the Golden Country. After Yaad explained the history of this village, you all were each given rooms to rest in for the night. The beds were small and cold, but far better than a bedroll.

You were used to Laios initiating with you every night, but by the time everyone went to sleep, he still didn’t call upon you. So you stood from your bed, adjusting the nightgown given to you, and walked across the hall to where Laios’ room was. You knocked on his door, and you heard the slip of a sword into a sheath behind the thin wood. He had been inspecting Kensuke for some reason, probably mulling over Yaad’s words. When he opened the door, he was dressed in loose pants and a linen shirt, droplets running down his neck. He must’ve just bathed. You couldn’t stop yourself from digging your nails into your palm.

“Can I come in?” You asked in a hushed voice, and he moved out of the way for you to step inside.

His room looked exactly like yours, but the sheets were ruffled from lack of sleep. Laios walked around you and sat on the edge of the bed, leaving you more confused than ever. You played with your hands as you stared at him, contemplating. “Is something wrong, Laios?” You inquired, stepping closer to him. “You’ve been acting weird even before we got here.”

His brow furrowed for a moment. “How do you figure?”

“Well, you …” Your tongue clicked. “You didn’t come to find me after everyone went to bed.”

He seemed to concede, shoulders dipping at your answer. Shifting on the mattress, he propped himself up against his pillows and moved Kensuke to lean against the wall. His silence was even more perplexing. This had to be the longest time Laios went without talking. He was a blabbermouth.

“I don’t understand,” you continued, walking over and sitting on the end of his bed. “Are you … are you angry with me?”

“No, no,” Laios was quick to reply, “I’m not angry with you. I’m just …”

You raised a brow, eager to hear his answer.

“That man you recognized. On floor 6,” he finally said, his fists clenching again at the memory. “I didn’t … I didn’t like the way he looked at you. And his tone. It was disrespectful to you. Unless I’m reading this all wrong.”

You were taken aback by his honesty. So he had been bothered by your ex. “Oh,” you replied, “well … me and him, we do have history, Laios. But it’s in the past.”

“I could tell.” He was picking at his nails now, any excuse not to meet your eyes. “Everyone has a life before the dungeon. It’s not about the past. I just … I didn’t like him. Or how he looked at you like … like he still wanted you. Or something.”

“Or something,” you repeated, nodding your head. A slow smile crept onto your lips at the realization. “Laios, are you jealous?”

His head jolted up, his eyes glued to his hands, searching for something unknown. Realization washed over his face, as if he hadn’t even considered this possibility. “Oh, gods,” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “This whole day I’ve been trying to reconcile with what I’m feeling and I knew I wasn’t mad at you – maybe just mad at the circumstances – and none of it made sense, but now …” He finally met your eyes, a chuckle slipping past his lips. “I was just jealous. How did I not realize?”

“Maybe because we didn’t talk about it,” you offered in a low voice, reaching out and lacing your fingers with his. A jolt of electricity ran through your fingertips and all the way up your arm. You wished you could hide your reaction, but it was clear as day, making Laios shift in his spot. “Laios, we should talk –”

“You’re not leaving the party, are you?” His grip on your fingers went tight, and he didn’t even realize it.

“No,” you laughed, scooting closer and running your free hand over his face. His cheeks flushed instantly when you touched him. “I think … we should talk about what’s happening between us.”

Laios’ gaze went narrow as he processed your words. “Oh,” he said blankly, and then his eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“I just … because we’ve been doing this every night … it’s hard not to feel …” You sighed, unable to get the words right. But he seemed to understand, quick-witted as ever, squeezing your hand in encouragement. And then he smiled at you, all dopey and kind, and your heart began to pound. “I can’t help but think that the lines are being blurred between us. My feelings for you are … much deeper than what they were initially. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay. I needed you to know. I’m sorry if this hurts … whatever our relationship is.”

He was still smiling, his other hand gripping your waist, pulling you even closer. “Well, I think –”

“And now I can’t help but wonder if maybe – just maybe – you feel the same way,” you started rambling, terrified to know how he was going to reply. “Because why would you feel jealous if you didn’t … I shouldn’t make assumptions. But I still wondered. And I can’t stop talking. Again, I don’t want this to ruin anything and I’m sorry if it does. My ex doesn’t mean anything to me anymore and he won’t ever again –”

Out of nowhere, Laios used his upper body strength to flip you onto your back, pinning you to the bed. Now your cheeks were flushed, completely caught off guard by the action. He sat in between your legs, his fingers just brushing over your waist, as he said, “I do. Feel the same. I feel like I’m the one who could’ve ruined this because I didn’t realize it sooner.”

You gave him a sad smile, reaching up to cup his chin. “You couldn’t ruin anything.”

He leaned into your palm when your hand moved to his cheek, humming under his breath. He then leaned down, his body just barely pressing against yours, as if he craved your body heat. Like a moth to a flame.

“Can we not talk about your ex ever again?” He muttered, his hands running up and down your sides. “Because when I saw him today, all I could think about was …” He stopped himself abruptly.

“What?” Your curiosity peaked.

“I’m going to sound like a jealous brute,” he sighed dramatically, nose brushing against yours as his hands moved higher, thumbs grazing over the underside of your breasts. The material of your nightgown was so thin that your peaked nipples were already visible. “I just … couldn’t stop thinking about all the times I’ve tasted you that he hasn’t. I wondered if he knew exactly how you liked it, which places made those funny sounds come out of your mouth. And then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and all I wanted this whole day was to get you alone.”

You shuddered when his thumb brushed over one of your taut nipples, making your heel run down the back of his leg. His words alone made tingles run down your spine, but the second his hands were on you, you were properly soaked. The both of you lay there for a moment: him on top of you, nuzzling your nose, rolling his fingers over your nipples through your nightgown, eliciting breath hitches from your lips.

It was so slow, so patient, so good, but had you wanting more. And you couldn’t stop the words coming out when you blurted, “I want to have sex.”

He paused, opening his eyes for a moment, making sure he heard you properly.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said quickly, feeling awkward. But why were you so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like he didn’t have his tongue deep inside your pussy every night. Maybe it was because there was a question still lying underneath the surface. “Why ... why don’t you want me to help you finish after you eat me out? Sometimes you just … walk away to take care of yourself.”

Laios’ face went bright red, and then he buried his face in your neck. “I’m so embarrassed.”

Your hand pushed back his cropped, blonde hair, trying to soothe his racing heart. “Why are you embarrassed?”

“Because it’s … it’s big,” he sighed and lifted his head. “There. I said it. It’s just big. And the last person who saw it made me feel super self-conscious about it.”

You couldn’t help but snort. “You’re embarrassed because you have a big dick?”

His pretty golden eyes were serious, but it looked like he wanted to laugh with you. “Please, don’t make it sound trivial.”

“It’s not trivial, it’s just …” You went to cup both his cheeks. The way he looked at you was unlike anything you ever experienced. You wondered why it took you so long to realize he felt the same. “I would never make you feel self-conscious about anything. I like everything about you, Laios.”

Your words had him melting, leaning back down into you and kissing you slowly. It was only when his tongue slipped into your mouth that his hand snaked down between your legs, just cupping your soaked entrance, the one thing he loved to eat more cheesecake. Realizing that you weren’t wearing any underwear had him reeling. “Gods …” He moaned into the kiss, his fingers simply running down your soaked folds.

As his lips broke away from yours, you asked in a tone as sweet as barometz, “Do you want to have sex, Laios?”

“Yes,” he replied, voice desperate. “Yes, please.”

Your hands went to the hem of his loose, linen shirt, breaking your kiss again to lift it over his head. For the first time, you were able to see what he looked like underneath all the armor. His shoulders were wide-set, his torso soft while also being oddly defined. Most tall-men your party encountered thought Laios was on the slender side, not believing how strong he was. But once your eyes beheld his biceps, you knew how wrong they all were. He was built and muscular and – gods, you could admire him for hours.

Laios stopped your hands from going any further, a pleading look in his eyes. He pushed your nightgown up and bunched it at the waist. “Can I taste you first?”

You nodded quickly, already intoxicated by the way he kissed you, the way he smiled at you, all eager and excited to bury his face in your pussy. It didn’t take him long; he was lightning fast, moving down your body and lifting your legs on his shoulders so he could eat you out easier. His tongue dove into your folds immediately, and he groaned at the first taste. You were acutely more aware every night that he could do this for hours, just lapping at you lazily, bringing you to orgasm over and over again. No monster compared to the way you tasted.

His nose bumped your clit as he tongued your leaking hole, practically whimpering at every drop of your wetness that reached his mouth. Large, calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, making sure they didn’t close and digging into your flesh. Your own hands fisted into the sheets, your ass lifted off the bed, but you could still grind your hips against his face. Soft whines left your lips, nothing compared to the groans Laios was making as he ate you like he didn’t have a three-course meal just an hour ago. You almost wondered if you should tell him to quiet down, afraid of the others hearing, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care.

It was clear to you the closer you got to reaching your peak that Laios wasn’t keen on stopping. And as much as you truly wanted to cum all over his tongue, you thought it was important that you both have this new experience together. It took you a few seconds to finally gather the courage to say something, his tongue feeling too good as he swirled it around your sensitive clit. “Laios,” you called, and then a little louder, “Laios.”

He lifted his head, your juices dripping down his chin. A primal urge made him want to dive back into you, but he controlled himself. His tongue licked at your essence around his mouth, and you shuddered at the sight.

“I want you inside me,” you whispered. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, yes,” he muttered hoarsely, placing your legs so delicately back on the bed, as if they were made of glass. “Of course.” He so desperately wanted to taste you again, but he was even more excited for this, to finally feel something other than his hand wrapped around his cock. You were the first person he ever tasted, but it had been quite a while since he was truly intimate with someone, to slide into someone and feel them clench around him.

As you tugged off your nightgown, Laios began to work at the ties of his pants. But his hands stopped as they came undone, glancing up at you with hesitation. You looked so pretty sitting in the middle of his bed, waiting for him, naked and vulnerable. He felt silly for feeling so self-conscious, especially when you were so beautiful like this.

“Laios,” you cooed, caressing his arm, “there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t want to, then we can stop.”

He almost choked on a laugh. “Trust me,” he replied, “I want to.”

After another beat of stalling, Laios finally stepped out of his bottoms and blushed pink from ear to ear. His cock was … well, it certainly was big. You sympathized with him; if anyone told you something about your body during sex, you would focus on that forever. But there was nothing for him to be embarrassed about. Truthfully, most males would kill to have what he did. His cock was thick and long, a few veins trailing down the shaft, curving up at his pretty red tip that was dripping with precum. You got even more wet just from staring at it, wondering what he would finally feel like inside of you.

Your mouth opened to say something, anything to make him feel better, but he was already talking: “I need a distraction so I don’t think about you staring at it.” He crawled back onto the bed and between your thighs, immediately pressing his lips to yours. You could taste yourself still on his mouth, and your arms wound around his shoulders instantly. His teeth tugged at your bottom lip, and he asked, “Can I just … ramble about monster facts for a minute?”

You blinked, not expecting that. Laios released your lower lip and sighed, clearly still nervous. “It’ll help me get over this feeling. I swear. Or if you want to stop this, we can. I’ll … I’ll understand –”

“Laios,” you huffed, your mouth pulling back into a sweet smile, “I want you to do whatever makes you feel comfortable.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” he muttered, nuzzling his face back into your neck, placing sloppy kisses. “Did you know that … that harpies almost exclusively have the head of a female human and it is unknown if male harpies exist?”

His voice was muffled against your neck, but you could tell he was desperate and aching. You felt his hard length against your stomach, smearing precum on the exposed skin. “Really?” You breathed out, trying to engage with him but completely failing when he licked a stripe up your neck. A moan escaped your lips.

“There’s also … there’s, uh …” He was struggling to talk now, grasping his cock and giving it a few quick pumps before teasing the head against your dripping wet folds. Your legs instinctively opened wider for him, hoping to whatever gods were out there that you could take his cock. “There also exists a seabird variant of harpies called … called, Sirens. Their wings and … their – their tail look like a seagull’s.”

You could hardly breathe as you asked, “What else, Laios?”

He began to push inside you slowly, letting you adjust with each inch. “Okay, okay … uh … bicorns … bicorns hate – oh, fuck.” Just the feeling of your tight warmth wrapped around his cock had him biting into your shoulder, like you were the forbidden fruit. He could hardly string together a word, could hardly think, as he sank deeper and deeper into you, his whole body shaking. “Bicorns hate … hate virtue. They prefer – shit – immorality. It is believed that … doing all seven deadly sins will … will allow an individual to approach a bicorn – fuck. Fuck. It feels –”

When he was finally buried to the hilt, all he could do was breathe into your neck. You whined, locking your legs around his waist. The stretch was unbelievable; your walls gripped him like a vice. But it was even better than you could’ve imagined. If you had thought originally that the night would go this way, you would’ve at least brushed your hair. Laios didn’t care though, inhaling the flowery scent as he nosed your pretty strands. You couldn’t even comprehend – whether it be from the stretch of his thick cock inside you or the overwhelming amount of butterflies in your stomach – how you were so lucky to have found him.

Not to mention, you felt even luckier that this wasn’t happening on a cold dungeon floor.

With one hand carding into his hair, you chuckled under your breath, “Had enough of reciting monster facts?”

“Mmhmm …” He groaned, unable to form a sentence. You finally felt him pull back before pushing into you in one fast, deep thrust, making you shiver. Your body was hardly used to feeling this full, but you wanted him so badly that it was humiliating, a pink blush tinting your nose. “You feel so good,” he muttered.

You pulled on his hair, and his head lifted from your neck. His lips were swollen from kissing you. Yours probably looked the same. But that didn’t matter right now as he held your gaze and began thrusting into you a little faster. His eyes were the color of melted gold, flecked with amber and brown, and you felt like you could stare into them forever while he fucked you. Laios lifted one of your legs higher on his waist, but his other hand stayed around your middle, keeping you nestled against him.

“Laios,” you whimpered, feeling him nudge your clit with each roll of his hips. Despite his desperation, his pace was tender and relaxed, making sure you were adjusting to his size. He knew he was big – clearly, it was something he’d been self-conscious about for a while – but the way you were looking at him right now … he’d never felt more at ease, more special. This was all he ever wanted: to be close to someone like this, to find intimacy with someone he had true feelings for. All the other times had been stepping stones, leading to this moment with you, where your warmth enveloped him so nicely and your gaze made him want to cum on the spot.

His hips began to move a little faster, pushing even deeper inside you, as his mouth swallowed your moans in a hungry kiss. Face going hot, you trembled, and his cock pulsed inside you with each pass. Your nails dragged down his shoulder blades, leaving marks for him to examine later, like a predator with its prey. Goosebumps raised on his skin, feeling himself get closer … and closer … and closer. If you kept digging your nails into him like that, he’d surely lose his grasp on reality. But you just felt so good, so warm, and he craved you. Craved you like you were his last meal.

“Laios,” you croaked out when his lips broke from yours, “Laios, are you close?”

He could hardly say anything else but, “Mm …”

You thought you could get there by now from his tongue teasing you earlier, but you needed a little more friction. Bumping against your clit wasn’t enough. “Okay, okay,” you rambled, reaching down between your legs to touch yourself. “Just hold off for another minute. I’ll get there.”

Laios opened his eyes, realizing what you were doing, immediately envious of your own hand. “No, let me,” he murmured, voice like honey, and found your clit easily. “Then I can taste you on my fingers after.” His excitement made you laugh, which brought a smile to his own lips.

He shifted a little, pulling back so only his tip rested inside you, and fucked back into you at a different angle, one that brushed against your special spot. The stimulation of both your clit and g-spot had your back arching, whimpers slipping out of your lips like a chant.

“Is … this … better?” He asked, panting after each word.

Your voice was strained when you answered, “Y—Yes.”

His balls slapped against the underside of your ass, and he knew how close he was, but all he cared about at this moment was cumming together. He needed to see that look on your face when you reached your peak. He only got to see it a few times, when he lifted his eyes while tasting you, watching the way your lips parted and sweat ran down your forehead.

His fingers rubbed tight circles on your aching clit – knowing exactly what you liked – and you were close. So, so close already. Laios had a way of touching you that felt inquisitive, yet effortless. Like he wanted to learn which spots made you moan the loudest, while also already knowing without even touching you. You grew to like him not just because of his dopey grin, his protectiveness, or his positivity, but also for the way he was willing to learn with you, the way he needed you. And right now, he needed you to cum more than anything.

Tension coiled in your lower abdomen, making you gasp out, “Laios – fuck – Laios, I’m gonna –”

“I know, I know,” he rasped. His pace was nearing on brutal, his whole body shaking as he held off his release for you. “Together. We’ll – together.”

And then, your muscles tighten. You clenched around his cock, and it only took one more thrust against your g-spot to have you falling apart underneath him. You put a hand over your mouth as you cried out, careful of the rest of the party hearing. Your eyes rolled back, his fingers stroking your clit through it, and it all just felt too, too good. Your orgasm went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you. As your walls spasmed around his cock, he groaned low, finally spilling into you. His hips stuttered. His mouth gasped for air against your lips, as he felt a ripple of relief from emptying himself inside you. He bit into your shoulder again to muffle his own noises. Your pussy convulsed, milking every last drop, and you were pretty sure you saw stars.

Once the aftershocks hit you both, he slumped against you, breathing in the scent of your hair again. Your fingers traced small circles onto his back muscles, your chest rising and falling with the fast beat of your heart. When his cock went soft inside you, his fingers finally left your clit and he brought them to his mouth. Your eyes were half-lidded as you watched him wrap his lips around his fingers and suck the juices off, moaning at the taste. He looked like an intricate painting; you couldn’t help but admire the sight.

His fingers left his mouth with a wet pop, and he whispered in a voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him, “You just taste so, so good.”

Laios kissed you again, slow and full of affection. You didn’t even care that he was still inside you; you could stay like this forever, pressed into his warm skin. Gods, you liked him so much that you immediately whimpered as his tongue slid into your mouth, and when he shuddered at your fingers on his back … you couldn’t believe you once questioned if he returned your feelings. You had both been so oblivious.

His mouth moved away from yours and he cupped your cheek. He took a moment to memorize the dusting of red across your face, the way your eyes hardly opened after sex, and then said, “Are you hungry? I think we both need a snack. It’s been a long night already.”

You giggled. “You had me at hungry.”

#my fics #fic: forbidden fruit #laios touden x reader #laios touden smut #laios x reader #laios touden x reader smut #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi x reader #dunmeshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #one shot: forbidden fruit #fic: please eat

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reidmotif · 1 year ago

Text

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else.

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex. And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go.

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be.

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end.

My only block to getting laid was my own self. And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done.

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple.

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience.

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night.

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home.

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed.

Damn profiler best friend.

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention.

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?”

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right.

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires.

“Stuff.” I affirm.

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees.

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts.

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue.

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.”

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now.

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.”

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!”

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly.

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that.

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair.

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly.

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.”

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant.

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.”

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it?

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece.

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer.

How did I get into this mess?

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.”

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him.

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him.

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man.

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.”

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried.

He narrows his eyes in thought. “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.”

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly.

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile.

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded.

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him.

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.”

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be.

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.”

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries.

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly.

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?”

“Yep. The last one.”

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless.

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him.

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship.

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight.

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders.

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine.

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion.

“What?”

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.”

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer.

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.”

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly.

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster.

When I’m silent, unable to respond, his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me.

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow.

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp, a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted.

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?”

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him.

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily.

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.”

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me.

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued.

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut.

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.”

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it.

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again.

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers.

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt.

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would.

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.”

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there.

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night.

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.”

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock.

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man.

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want.

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity.

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper.

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice.

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur.

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence.

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.”

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

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ihangelic · 1 month ago

Text

PAS DE PUNK ╱ h.taesan

you and taesan go together like classical music and rock: not at all. but similar to the way taesan keeps getting piercings, there’s something about the way he gets under your skin that you kind of like— and you’re too proud to admit why you keep coming back for more.

pair ; punk!taesan x ballerina!reader

genre ; smut (with plot), fluff?, rock band au, enemies to lovers

warnings ; fem!reader, taesan has piercings (including tongue), arguing (flirting), some jealousy, ‘make me shut up’ kiss, confessing of feelings, petnames (mostly princess), lots of mentions of taesan’s hands & rings, dom!taesan, bratty/sub!reader, thigh riding, praise, degr*dation, bre*st play, begging, a little sp*nking, no prep, piv

wc ; 8k

playlist ; smells like teen spirit by nirvana / sugar we’re goin down by fall out boy / a little death by the neighbourhood / punk rock princess by something corporate / she’s kinda hot by 5sos / good girl by thomas larosa / s*xtape by deftones / closer by nine inch nails / all i really want is you by the marías

✉️ 𓂃 ₊˚⊹ note ; happy new year!! idk if it’s unhinged to make a playlist for a smut fic but i couldn’t help myself ><. i avoided using lesser-known ballet terms for non-dancers to understand (aka me), but also tried to make it enjoyable for dancers to read. hopefully i was successful lol.

! . . . COPYRIGHT OF IHANGELIC

dancing along with the music of l’oiseau bleu is practically impossible when it sounds like a rock concert is taking place in the room just across from you.

lowering to stand flat footed in your pointe shoes, you raise your hands to your face, pinching your nose bridge in frustration as you try and resist the growing urge to pull your hair out.

the obnoxious sound of drums, a bass’s low rumble, and an electric guitar’s higher tune rings in your ears— drowning out any of your more rational thoughts until you’re left with only rage.

you try your best to block it out, to take a moment to breathe and try to get a controlled hold over your emotions— and you think it may work after you cover your ears with your own hands, the sound of the instruments still audible but sounding more distant. then the teeth gritting noise of a cymbal pierces through the barrier of your hands and it’s almost like it’s a sound effect for the way your train of thought shatters, letting out a sigh that sounds much more like an animalistic scream before stomping over to your phone and turning off the music.

power walking out of the dance studio and to the very unfortunately placed neighboring rental space, you don’t even have to turn the knob as you look through the glass door. the raging bitch face you wear is absolutely effortless as you mean-mug all three ‘problems’ in the room; ‘problems’ that drip in leather, distressed or patched fabric, spikes, and way too oversized jeans. you’re about to feel acquainted with the three men as this situation seems to occur more and more often.

foam panels are stuck to the walls; black cords are neatly coiled or in squiggly lines across the floor; and of course there’s guitars, a drum set, and microphones everywhere.

finally you catch the eyes of the long, blond haired drummer— and that gives you enough incentive to open the door and barge in like you own the place.

“could you be any louder?” you rhetorically ask, but it goes unheard as two of the men sing passionately into their microphones, eyes closed and hands working the strings of their guitars while the drummer keeps playing his drums— all while staring at you with a relaxed, barely inquisitive face.

“could you be any louder!” you shout, the end of the sentence awkwardly fading in volume when there's a screech from one of the guitars and everything goes quiet.

the two seeming vocalists turn their heads to look at you, all three men now staring while you stand, clearly bothered as your hands are on both sides of your hips and your chest heaves with deep breaths of frustration.

“well…” the dark haired, taller one begins— and your expression only sours more as you’re already familiar with how snarky and full of himself he can be. “you’re the one yelling.”

you let out an appalled scoff, unable to help the way your eyes roll as you’re angered even more by how that only seems to make the man smirk.

“if someone has to yell just for you to hear them that means you’re the loud one.”

“you sure about that, princess?” he asks, quirking a pierced brow. your impending explosive response must be visible as the shorter statured one interrupts for damage control.

“w— we’re sorry!” he starts, speaking on his friends behalves. the blond’s expression never changes as he stares at your fuming face, while the darker haired looks like he’s about to protest— but the other continues before he has the chance. “look..we got off on the wrong foot and…”

the way his hands float in front of him, bass hanging against his chest by the strap— it only adds to how lost he looks on what to do, and it makes you feel kind of bad. (for him at least.)

you’re about to start apologizing when he’s suddenly reaching his hand out towards you.

“i’m riwoo.” he introduces, then gestures over to the other two men. “this is taesan and leehan.”

“…y/n” you say somewhat sheepishly, a bit of your shame coming back at the politeness of the bassist you now know as riwoo.

previously you’d only knock aggressively at their door to ask them to shut up, a few times popping your head in when that didn’t work to snappily ask them to please try and keep it down at least a little. you’ve never actually had a full conversation with them before— or an argument...whatever this exchange of words could be classified as.

“unfortunately we can’t really be any quieter. we have to practice for a gig we got coming up—“

“isn’t your little dance school supposed to be closed now anyway?” taesan abruptly interrupts, yet again grinding your gears with the snarky way he says the words ‘dance school’.

“it’s closed for classes, but the rooms can be used for practice up until eleven pm.” you provide smartly, catching yourself before you scrunch your nose in disgust at him.

“we try to keep the noise at a minimum if we’re here at prime hours,” riwoo cuts in again, attempting to explain gently. “but past that…” he trails off, shoulders shrugging as he gives you a sympathetic look.

you process his words, how he really is seemingly trying to help you out here, before sighing softly as your hand raises to press into your increasingly aching temple.

“do you have to use your amps?” you ask, raising a hand to point at one.

“did you not hear him? we have a show to do, we need to practice as best as we can. so yes, we have to use our amps.” taesan firmly states, over enunciating like you can’t hear. his brows are slightly furrowed as his previous amusement is completely gone, a flame of annoyance now in his eyes.

you let your hand defeatedly fall and slap against your bare thigh, taesan’s eyes glancing down at your leg for the smallest of moments before looking back up to glare at you.

“who the fuck do you think you are?” you bite at him, sick of his selfish attitude as you turn your body fully in his direction, crossing your arms.

“wxnder.” he dryly states, making your head tilt in confusion and absolute impatience.

“huh?”

“wonder— but like, with an ‘x’. that’s our band name.” leehan provides, throwing you off as you’re momentarily sidetracked by how deep and smooth his voice is. (are all these men vocalists? also, with an ‘x’— how cheesy can they be?)

“you should come watch us perform.” he smiles widely, eyes creasing and everything. you’re yet again thrown off as he speaks to you with such casual friendliness as though you haven’t practically yelled at all of them and continue to seethe at his guitarist like you want to rip his throat out.

“uh, i…”

“i’m sure miss priss has other things she’d rather do, like dance to swan lake in a feather tutu or something.” taesan finishes your sentence for you, conjuring a string of curses to lace your tongue.

“shut the f—“

“bye, twinkle toes.” he waves you off dismissively, grabbing the neck of his guitar by his multiple ringed fingers as he directs his attention back to his instrument and mic.

“it was nice meeting you, y/n.” riwoo adds somewhat shyly, adjusting the strap of his instrument as well— though much more apologetically.

“see ya’, y/n!” leehan calls before picking up his drumsticks and twirling them in his hands, looking up to taesan for his cue. you watch him cock his chin, the sudden rhythmic pounding of leehan’s drums making you flinch before taesan and riwoo start playing their strings again.

riwoo’s voice starts out soft before slowly raising in volume and you’re shocked by his melodic vocals that contrast so satisfyingly well with the rock instrumentals.

still disgruntled but more off put than anything, you don’t know what more to do than shuffle out of the room, shutting the door behind you as you stare at the air in front of you.

well, guess it’s time to find some earbuds that are sound and pirouette proof.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

you got it. you got the lead role.

all the extra (maybe slightly excessive) practicing, late nights and frustration (which would be a lot less if there wasn’t a band next door) paid off.

you’re playing as princess aurora for your dance studio’s performance of ‘the sleeping beauty’, which will be showing at a local theatre next month.

jaehyun, your good friend and fellow dancer who’s always making you smile and lightening sullen moments during classes— is your dance partner, playing as prince désiré.

the second the both of you found out you got lead roles, jaehyun was practically bouncing off the walls with excitement, insisting that you go out tonight to celebrate.

which is why you find yourself by jaehyun’s side at ‘sundown lounge’, your favorite bar and hang out spot.

“you look good, by the way!” jaehyun attempts to speak over the loud karaoke, leaning a little closer to your ear as you weave through the crowd.

“thanks!” you turn your head to smile at him over your shoulder, hoping your iridescent eyeshadow twinkles under the lights how you wanted it to.

“you do too.” you compliment before someone’s elbow is jabbed into your stomach, squishing yourself against the wall as you and jaehyun try to make it to the bar to order some drinks. “why is it so busy tonight?”

“i don’t know, maybe it’s happy hour!” jaehyun suggests hopefully, but when you finally reach the counter his theory is proven wrong when you’re told everything’s its original price. regardless, you sip on a strawberry margarita while jaehyun holds a glass of something that looks like muddy water before deciding where to sit.

“wanna go there, near the stage?” he asks, pointing over to a table that’s very near the performance area. you’d rather not have to hear a drunk girl sloppily sing a britney spears song right in your ears but jaehyun finds it hilarious, often unable to resist curling in on himself while giggling uncontrollably— and that always makes you laugh. so you nod your head, jaehyun grabbing your hand to make sure he doesn’t lose you in the crowd before leading you to the table.

there’s only two more songs played before the dj hops on the stage, speaking into the mic. “karaoke will be ending as it’s time for the band of tonight to take the stage. give us a few minutes while the performers are setting up!”

some people in the crowd hoot and holler excitedly as jaehyun turns his head to you. “i wonder what type of band will be playing tonight, last weeks was pretty good.”

“it’s punk rock!” a girl excitedly butts in from the table right next to yours, having accidentally overheard your conversation.

“a rock band?” you ask, somewhat groaned in annoyance as you now have a personal vendetta against the genre. but your tone goes completely unnoticed by the girl as her eyes continue to sparkle with enthusiasm.

“yeah! their music’s really good and they’re all super hot, my favorite one plays the electric guitar.”

“what’s their name?” jaehyun asks, curiosity evidently sparked.

“wxnder!” she answers, and your brows furrow with the familiarity of it. where have you heard that name before?

the girl’s head turns at a sound and her mouth drops open, a small uproar caused as some people in the crowd shriek and cheer. the unexpected noise has you flinching before looking towards the stage— and your jaw drops too, but not in a good way.

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me...” you say to yourself in shock, watching as riwoo sits down his amp and plugs it into the wall.

“what?…what!” jaehyun whisper-yells, grabbing onto your arm to try and get your attention.

leehan appears next, sitting down behind the drum set that’s already on stage and wagging his head to adjust his hair, causing another small wave of squeals.

then a broad back covered by a black leather jacket abstracts your view, and he doesn’t even need to turn around for you to know who he is— but he does anyway. the way taesan almost immediately catches your gaze amongst the crowd is infuriating, smirking while glancing down at how close your table is to the stage before looking teasingly into your eyes again.

and it makes you pissed, unbelievably so— yet you feel your cheeks burn as you can’t help but think about how hot he looks, the stage lights glinting off his lip ring and drawing your eyes towards them.

have his lips always been so…plump?

taesan winks at you before looking down to tune his guitar, hands gripping the neck of it. veins pop out from the contours of his knuckles; long, thick fingers adorned with silver rings picking at the strings.

fuck…

“y/n?” jaehyun tries again, and you finally respond with the shake of your head, downing the remainder of your drink like it’s a shot.

“it’s nothing.” you insist.

after a few minutes of setting up, tuning, and making sure everything’s in order; taesan introduces the group (not that he exactly needs to, since it seems the bar is full of their fans), saying that their opening song will be ‘take my tears’, a song he wrote himself.

usually you and jaehyun talk throughout a band's live performance, as they’ll be playing all night— but you can’t seem to look away as you listen to the lyrics and how they perform.

it’s entrancing— much different than when you’re trying to ignore them through the studio walls. the song is somewhat emotional, beautiful; yet it also has such a fun and freeing feel. or maybe it’s just the way they sing it— how taesan sings it, his body grooving and head nodding to the beat of their sound. the lyrics aren’t what you’d expect from him— the guy you thought he was, and it leaves you wondering what more there is to him that you wouldn’t expect.

your heart skips a beat, and you’re not sure if it’s just the thrill of the rock music or if it’s because of him; the annoying, pompous punk who suddenly looks so sexy when he’s performing. (and never any other time. definitely not.)

you’ve just finished your second margarita and are a little buzzed by the time their set is finished, the night passing faster than you realized.

jaehyun is eating on a basket of fries, yapping away so fervently that he doesn’t even notice how you’ve gotten up from the table and are approaching taesan— who again locks eyes with you as he walks down the steps of the stage to meet you halfway.

“so, what did you think?” he asks, a little out of breath from the long performance, having had no breaks in between songs.

he stands closely so you can hear him— and it’s enough for you to smell his cologne; to see the way sweat clings to the skin of his neck; deep breaths coming out in puffs as his chest expands. something about it all has an effect on you— or maybe it’s something in the air, because taesan doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes rake over your body, admiring your legs in your denim mini skirt.

“you..you guys were amazing.” you compliment, sounding a little out of breath yourself.

taesan makes a ‘hm’ sound, faintly smiling at you while biting his lip— and you swear you see the glint of metal on his tongue.

your body heats up as you wonder if his tongue is pierced too, what kind of things he could do to you with it, what it would feel like against your skin— before you frantically try and dismiss the increasingly dirty thoughts, reminding yourself that the man you’re fantasizing about is right in front of you.

“i didn’t think you’d actually come.” taesan says, speaking in a teasing tone that you swear seems flirty paired with the slight quirk of his brow.

“how’d you even know we’d be here? did you stalk us, princess?”

okay, surely that was flirting, right?

you’re about to playfully roll your eyes, paired with a smart little comment and deny that’d you’d ever be interested enough to ‘stalk’ them— until the girl that spoke to you about wxnder earlier suddenly appears, putting herself between you and taesan.

“you were absolutely amazing, taesan.” the girl croons, confidently placing her hand on his forearm as she leans all up in his personal space.

and you expect him to shrug her off, either politely or not-so politely establish some distance between them. but again, he surprises you— in a way you absolutely hate.

he smirks at her, in just the same way he did to you just moments ago— and leans even closer to her face, unneededly close.

“aren’t you sweet. thank you so much.”

“no problem.” the girl smiles cattily, clearly enjoying the attention.

something in your heart burns, and that familiar feeling of uncontrollable annoyance comes back even worse than before.

“do you think i could get your autograph?”

“sure, princess.” taesan answers lowly— and that does it.

without even feeling the urge to look back and see that girl all over him, you’re gone, picking up a drunk jaehyun by his arm.

“wh— where are we going?” jaehyun drunkenly slurs, eyes glossed over as they look at you.

“to get an uber home.” you answer firmly, eyes hard as you once again weave through the crowd.

you feel eyes on your back, but you ignore it until you get to the door, turning your head as jaehyun leans half of his body weight against you. even amongst all the faces, you and taesan’s eyes meet easily, his arm now slung around the girl’s waist as she whispers something in his ear.

his lips are in that same smirk— like he’s taunting you, and you scoff, dragging jaehyun and yourself out of the bar.

you can’t believe you were actually feeling into him— but you surely don’t have to worry about that now.

he’s just confirmed that he is in fact what you thought he was: an absolute ass and a cocky player who sings on stage to get girls in his bed.

well, fuck him. he can get his dick wet with anyone he wants but it sure as hell won’t be you.

ㅤㅤ──────────────────────

the very next day you’re back at the dance studio, rehearsing for the upcoming performance.

jaehyun whines the whole day, saying that it’s somehow your fault that he got drunk off his ass— but despite that, he does incredibly well during class. you do also, but unbeknownst to you, your friend wonders why you seem so tense— like something has been bothering you all day.

“shouldn’t you go home and rest, y/n?” jaehyun asks you at the end of class hours. everyone else is packing up their totes and leaving, yet you’re stood at the ballet barre doing leg exercises.

“i’ll be fine. practice makes perfect.” you insist, keeping your eyes on your form in the mirrored wall.

“well..just don’t overwork yourself, okay?” jaehyun sweetly tells you, and you flash him a thankful smile through the mirror.

“don’t worry, yunie, i wont. see you tomorrow.”

if it weren’t for the absolute beast you’re known to be in the studio, jaehyun would force you out of your pointe shoes and drag you home himself— but you don’t seem even a little bit tired, and it appears as though you have some steam to blow off.

so jaehyun and you exchange goodbyes before he leaves you in the empty classroom. (yes, completely empty— aside from the lady at the front desk. no one is as obsessive as you to want to stay even another second practicing when you already have for the whole day— on a saturday night, no less.)

you spend the next thirty minutes going over the steps you learned today that you don’t have down perfectly yet, having small cool downs in the form of stretching in between.

‘entrée d’aurore’ is still playing on your phone when you hear the distant voices of what must be the front desk lady and someone else speaking. you wonder if somebody has returned to get some extra practice in as well, and as you hear footsteps approaching, you remain sitting on the floor doing toe touches.

the door to the classroom opens, echoing slightly in the big, empty space— you lift your head to see someone who definitely is not a part of the sleeping beauty cast.

“y/n?” taesan says somewhat quietly, eyes looking around the big room that only holds one ballerina, who looks small in comparison to the high ceilings and vacant space.

your eyebrows furrow, somewhat irritated to see him while also being surprised— not only by his presence but by the unfamiliar way he almost looks sheepish: barely taking a few steps inside the classroom, looking around like he expects someone or yourself to scold him and kick him out.

“…don’t tell me you auditioned.” you joke, although it’s said casually. your eyes only scrutinize him for a second before you look back down to your own hands as you stretch them across your straightened legs and to your toes.

taesan has seen you a handful of times when you’re in your casual practice wear, but what you’re clad in for an official performance class is a little different. you’re wearing a black leotard with a little mesh skirt, a cropped shirt overtop, tights, and black leg warmers.

you look..really cute. even when you’re pretending to ignore him.

“no. the lady at the front desk said you were in here.” he explains lamely, all his usual snarky remarks not coming to his thoughts as he watches you in your element.

“good. i don’t want to see you in tights anyway. not your aesthetic.”

“sure you don’t.”

your head snaps to look at him before you can think not to react, cheeks heating up as you see the twinkle in his eyes and the small smile he tries to conceal by pressing down his lips.

you sigh as though you’re bothered— because you are— obviously…and get up from your floor stretches to walk over to the ballet barre again. taesan follows you.

“i don’t know why you’re here but i’m practicing. you should leave.”

“who was that with you at the bar last night?”

your cold indifference is broken at the unexpected question, your expression clearly confused as you look at the man standing beside you in the mirrored wall.

“what, jaehyun? he’s my friend. he wanted to go out to celebrate our castings. y’know, for the performance i’m trying to practice for right now?”

“so it was a date.” taesan remarks, eyes hardening right in front of you— and there’s that angered burn in your chest again, your hands squeaking from how tightly they hold onto the barre as your expression turns sour.

“who i date isn’t any of your business to speculate. i haven’t asked you what you and that fangirl got up to last night, have i?” you snap, raising a challenging brow at him— but it only makes him shake his head in unbelief, staring at you like you’re an absolute idiot.

“what? y/n, i don’t even know her name.”

“yes, well, i’m not surprised over that. i’m guessing it’s not very important for you to learn a girl’s name— as long as you’re in between her legs by the end of the night.”

his hand is on your shoulder, turning you around to face him abruptly as he stands closely, right in front of you.

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean? you think i fucked her?”

“i don’t want to know what you di—“

“shut the fuck up.” taesan orders, his fingers curling over your wrists making you wonder when they got there in the first place.

“make me.” someone (you?) says, and then you feel the cold press of taesan’s lip ring against your mouth.

it’s firm at first: the way his lips slam into yours, how both of your expressions still look pissed off at each other, even with both of your eyes closed. but eventually you seem to realize that taesan is actually kissing you— and then you’re melting into him, sighing as you feel his touch soften in response.

his kiss quickly turns demanding, lips moving against yours in pursuit of your taste. you squeak when his teeth bite at your bottom lip, not knowing you’ve fallen right into his trap until his tongue has already seized the opportunity and invaded your mouth. turns out you weren’t wrong when you thought you spotted a ball stud piercing on taesan’s tongue, you can most definitely feel it when he brushes it against your own appendage.

your head is pushed against the mirror from his vigor and you whimper, never having felt so dominated simply by a man’s kiss; taesan explores your mouth like he owns it, like it’s his, and it makes your core pulse, a flicker of neediness growing.

the rough groan he lets out as his hands move to roam and grasp at your waist hints at his possessiveness, fingers pressing into your skin through the thin material of your leotard.

“didn’t fuck her. didn’t want to.” he murmurs between the eager movements of his lips. “just wanted to make you jealous.”

“wh— why?” you manage breathily, taesan pressing his body against yours as your hands move to brace yourself on the barre.

“because i like you, y/n.” he smiles and huffs in disbelief at your denseness.

“i want to take you on a date— whether you let me between your legs or not.” he smirks, referring to your earlier harsh remark and making you cringe at the reference.

“i…i’d like that.” you say shyly, looking at him through your lashes. “the date— and..and the other thing too.”

“the other thing?” taesan repeats, confused as you only avoid his gaze, not further explaining— but funnily enough, your sudden bashful attitude is what makes it click in his mind.

“princess?” he experimentally calls, pleased when you automatically lift your head to look at him. his tongue unconsciously peaks out to play with his lip ring as he cockily grins, hand creeping up from your waist to pinch your chin between his fingers.

“why don’t you be a big girl and tell me what you mean?”

your nose crinkles, a pathetic attempt at defiance amidst your embarrassment. taesan’s other hand pinches the tender skin of your thigh, causing you to flinch and whimper at the slight pain as he makes a disapproving sound under his breath.

“come on, y/n. be good or i won’t give you what you want.”

“i— i want you...i meant—”

taesan does anything but go easy on you, eyes dark with mischief as he lowers his head to nibble at your neck. you squeeze your thighs together, looking for relief from the way your pussy now pulses prominently.

his hands move in tandem, one cradling along your jawline while the other brushes up and down your thigh, making you annoyed at your tights with how they keep you from feeling the cold brush of his rings against your skin.

you want them off. you want taesan to take them off. so you admit it.

“want you to fuck me. please, taesan.”

“awe,” he coos. “aren’t you a sweet one.”

you swear the tone in which he says those words turn you into goo, your hands releasing the barre to desperately hold onto his shirt.

“please.” you beg, finding yourself only wanting more praise— more of him— just anything he’s willing to give you.

taesan is able to identify the look in your eyes, staring at your lips and leaning down so slowly, making you whine at his teasing until he finally grants you mercy and kisses you again.

it’s dirtier than before: a lot more spit, moans, and movement from both of your tongues. taesan’s leg leans against the wall between your thighs, and whether it was his purpose to give you relief or not, you take the opportunity and hesitantly grind your core against his ripped jeans.

the pleasure is immediate, sending a tingle up your spine that has you arching against his chest, forgetting any shame as you begin to earnestly grind your hips against him. the thin layers covering your core paired with the roughness of taesan’s denim creates a wonderful friction, feeling how wet you’ve become in your panties.

“shit, you’re such a slut for it.” taesan remarks in genuine awe after breaking the kiss to watch the little show you’re putting on. his eyes take in every movement, from the way you rock against him to how your eyes squeeze shut and you tilt your head back.

the previous song playing on your phone has long since finished as some other tune now plays from your playlist— taesan suddenly becoming aware of it and that he has a girl whimpering and riding his thigh in the middle of a dance classroom.

he abruptly pulls away, the presence between your legs disappearing as you conjure a bratty sound from your throat.

“y/n,” taesan scolds in a harsh whisper. “did you forget where we are?”

“thought you said you’d fuck me if i was good?” you argue, flashing him a defiant expression.

“you think using my thigh to get yourself off without my permission is being good?”

your eyes widen, not expecting him to call you out on it.

looking to the floor and hearing taesan’s responding laugh at your childishness, it only makes the desire to act out against him stronger— you’re just not sure how you can do it in this moment.

“get your things. we can go to my place.” taesan offers, your stomach fluttering at the idea as you do what he says— moving to grab your phone, bag, and change out of your ballet wear.

your heart is pounding out of your chest and what’s between your legs hasn’t calmed down at all either by the time you walk out of the dance studio and sit in the passenger seat of taesan’s car.

and the drive is just as excruciating.

the man seems hellbent on teasing you by not giving you a drop of attention, keeping his eyes on the road while some rock song plays through the speakers. and you know he knows what he’s doing, how you can’t keep his eyes off of him, because the corner of his mouth is subtly turned.

you see no reason to hide it since he’s already aware, so you stare at him— once again admiring how hot his hands look wrapped around the steering wheel, the contours of his jawline and perfect side profile illuminated by the low hanging sun.

your eyes keep wandering— down, down, down until you get to his lap, where you see the large bulge tenting his pants.

your mouth waters and your hands twitch, wondering if he’s really as big as he looks and hoping you’ll get to find out by the end of tonight.

then you’re struck with an idea, recognizing the perfect opportunity you have right now— and you reach your hand out confidently to grope him over his pants.

you’re so proud at the way it makes taesan softly gasp under his breath, back stiffening at the unexpected touch. you mold your hand over his clothed dick, rubbing and gently squeezing— in all the right ways apparently, as you feel him twitch in your hands— even through the thick denim fabric.

“y/n, stop it.” taesan grits, and you hear the squeak of what you guess is his hands gripping tightly around the steering wheel. you don’t look at him until after you’ve located the head of his cock, rubbing over it with your thumb and meeting his fiery glare with a teasing bite to your lip— clearly pleased with yourself.

taesan is visibly pissed at your blatant act of defiance, but he gives you one more chance in the form of a threat.

“you’re not very patient, are you, princess? keep touching my dick like that and you won’t even get to see it out of my pants.”

your hand immediately stills— the man releasing a huff of disbelief when you pull your hand away completely to lay both of your hands on your lap, avoiding his gaze as you stare ahead.

not another word is shared, taesan enjoying the way you nervously squirm in your seat as he finally pulls into his apartment’s parking lot.

“stay.” he simply orders once he’s parked, and you’re left confused as he exits the car, only to watch him come around and open your door for you— even going as far to unbuckle your seatbelt and keep a firm hold around your wrist as he leads you up the stairs of his building. it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach yet your insides twist with nervous anticipation— because he does it all with the same stern eyes he spoke to you with as he threatened not to fuck you.

when the key is twisted and his front door lightly squeaks open— his residence somehow looks exactly how you thought; dark, moody, vintage rock posters and memorabilia hanging on the walls.

you expect him to be cheesy and press you against his door the moment it’s closed, but he doesn’t— instead walking over leisurely to his couch and sitting down, legs widely spread in an oddly commanding and powerful way.

your eyes widen at the arousing image, feeling yourself become sheepish as taesan lets his eyes roam over your form without shame.

“why do you look so shy now? you were such a disobedient little slut in the car.”

you swallow, hardly able but trying to hold eye contact with him as your face heats up in a delicious sort of shame.

taesan sighs as though he’s annoyed with your silence, patting one thigh with his hand.

“come here.”

“…h— huh?”

“don’t make me say it again, y/n.” he orders— and next thing you know, your body is moving to straddle the leg he’s directed you to sit on.

“there we go. guess princesses can take orders sometimes, hm?” he rhetorically asks, but you’re nodding your head anyway.

taesan just stares at you for a bit, admiring how pretty you look sitting and waiting for what he’ll do next, so different from the bratty attitude you had during the car ride.

then his hands rest on your bare waist, giving him easy access as you had disregarded your leotard before leaving the studio, now only wearing your cropped shirt and athletic shorts.

you’re unable to conceal the shuddered inhale you take as taesan’s hands creep upward, seeing him smirk at the sound before his hands slip under your shirt and reach your tits.

“no bra?” he teases, biting his lip as his fingers pinch at your hard nipples.

“n— no,” you struggle out, flinching lightly as taesan plays with your tits without any restraint, like your body is his toy. the contrast of his cool rings against your heated skin causes goosebumps to rise on the surface of your arms, chest pushing further into his hands. “didn’t think there was any p—..point.”

you watch as taesan shakes his head like he’s disappointed, yet he’s smiling darkly.

“dirty girl.” he remarks, giving a firmer pinched tug to your hard bud and forcing a whimper to escape from between your lips. “just take everything off then.”

you’re quicker to do what he says this time, only letting your sudden shy attitude make you hesitate for a moment before getting up from his lap to discard your clothing to his floor, keeping eye contact with taesan as best as you can manage— as he seems pleased when you do. he lets out a hungry exhale when you take off your shirt and your tits are revealed to his eyes, hand leisurely jerking himself off over his pants by the time your shorts are removed— leaving you only in your underwear.

“is that a thong, princess?” taesan asks breathily, eyes slightly widening in what you think might be surprise.

“yeah? it’s…it’s what i always wear underneath my leotard.” you confirm, somewhat confused— until taesan speaks again, hand moving up and down his dick faster.

“fuck, just— just didn’t expect such a prissy girl like you to— shit, i don’t know. you’re so hot.”

you smile— and it’s equally sexy and cute in a way that makes taesan feel like he’s going to go insane if you don’t get back on his lap right away. your fingers slip beneath the band of your panties to tug them off, but he stops you before you can.

“don’t. keep them on, wanna see you make a mess in them for me.”

a part of you— the bratty side— wants to say you already have, the dark spot from your leaking arousal evidence of it. but you don’t, the desire to listen actually winning over as you remove your hands from your hips and straddle his thigh again. you hover this time, not fully sitting down as you’re embarrassed for him to feel your wetness directly against his bare skin, which are revealed through the large holes in his jeans.

but taesan catches on immediately, tutting fondly as his hands squeeze at your hips.

“all the way.” he drawls, like he’s giving a ditzy dog a command they’re struggling to understand— and it makes your stomach flip, hurrying to do as he says.

you know he feels it, how your panties clinging to your wet pussy lips press against his thigh— and as he bites at his lip, drawing your eyes to his twinkling piercing yet again— your face burns as you’re sure he’s probably looking at the glistening residue you’ve surely left on his skin.

“good girl.” he mutters roughly, you whining in response as your hands fist into the material of his shirt.

you feel like such a slut, sitting on a man’s lap almost completely bare while he’s fully clothed, your needy pussy slowly drenching his thigh in your juices; and you sound like one too as taesan leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth.

you gasp and stutter— unsure of what you’re even trying to say as taesan chuckles around your bud, continuing to flick and roll his pierced tongue over you. the contrast of his warm appendage and the occasional brush of round metal against your skin makes you sensitive, hole clenching around nothing with every other swipe of his tongue.

“like that?” he whispers before switching to give your other breast attention.

“yes,” you quietly moan, wrapping your arms around to grip and play with the hair at the nape of his neck, subsequently pushing his face deeper into your tits.

he likes that— if his responding groan is anything to judge by, his hands pulling your hips forward and drawing a more unabashed sound from your lips at the movement.

“use me. get your little pussy off on my thigh.”

“fuck— yes,” you obey, rocking your hips and finding a rhythm.

“shit. that’s it, baby.” he coos, his hand suddenly reigning down against your ass a contrast to his soft tone as it leaves your skin tingling with heat. “just a few little touches is all it takes to get the brat out of you, huh?”

you scoff at that— though it’s interrupted by a moan when taesan flexes his thigh. shame burns your skin and his little remark makes you want to act out again, but all you can do is grind your pussy against him, gasping and going faster whenever your covered clit gets brushed over just right.

your hands that are still tangled in his hair pull to disconnect his mouth from your tits, leaning down to kiss him instead. taesan doesn’t scold you for the demanding gesture— but he does lift a hand to grasp it over your throat. he doesn’t squeeze, but the simple act makes you feel so good and dominated— and his other hand which gropes at your ass and snaps the string waistband of your thong has you falling further into delirium.

“please— please, tae. wanna cum.”

“then cum.” he says simply, and when you finally open your squeezed shut eyes, he’s staring at your desperate face with amusement— and just like that, you’re pissed.

“taesan! i can’t! not— not enough!” you whine, not even able to think about how pathetic you sound.

“you’re cumming by my thigh or not at all. this is what you get for acting like a fucking whore while i was driving.”

you whisper out a sigh, and it’s so broken and helpless as you rock your hips earnestly against him that he almost feels bad— but the bigger part of him is proud; proud in a dark and twisted way at how he’s dwindled the ballerina down to nothing but a mindless slut that’s practically crying with the need to cum.

another spank is delivered to your ass and you flinch, taesan’s hand around your neck getting a little firmer as he forces your teary eyes to look up at him— and you feel like a dog in heat as your hips never stop their efforts to bring you to release.

“please.” you beg, and taesan’s eyes turn hazey at the beautiful sound.

“come on, princess. i know you can do it for me.” he encourages— and turns out that’s all you needed.

taesan gets an up close view as your eyes roll to the back of your head, mouth dropping open in a silent cry as he feels you ruin your panties even further.

his thigh is dripping as you keep rutting your hips against him, letting out small whimpers as you work yourself through your high. taesan grants you mercy at the very end, helping you grind your hips before eventually slowing you to a stop.

then he’s picking you up and carrying you into what you can only assume is his bedroom— because in the next moment he’s laying you down on a black comforter-covered mattress and stripping off his clothes.

you’re panting, still catching your breath— but you still manage to make a somewhat teasing comment as the man’s bare chest is revealed to you.

“no tattoos?”

taesan looks up at you right after pulling his shirt over his head, black hair disheveled and brushing over his eyes as he smirks silently at you and combs it out of his face.

“i thought all emo’s had tattoos.” you tack on— and that gets him to respond.

“emo?! i’m not emo, i’m fucking punk!” he argues, somewhat offended but mostly amused as he works on removing his jeans.

“emo, punk, metalhead. it’s all the same thing.” you offhandedly say.

“…i’m about to go soft.” taesan threatens.

“kidding!” you laugh, sitting up on your elbows— and the smile is completely wiped off your face when taesan removes his boxers and his dick is finally freed, slapping against his abs.

“shit..” you whisper to yourself, watching as taesan rolls a condom on before climbing on the bed and caging you underneath him with his body.

“need me to stretch you first, princess?” taesan sweetly asks after peeling off your drenched panties, hand brushing up and down your hip soothingly.

as much as you want his sexy fingers in your cunt— you can’t wait any longer, spreading your legs for him as you flash him your best puppy-dog eyes.

“no. please just fuck me, taesanie. need you.”

“god…” taesan sighs, not making you wait anymore as he lines his head to your entrance before pushing in slowly. “oh, fuck. you’re so tight, princess.”

your chest heaves as he pushes into the hilt, your hands gripping against the sheets.

“move. fuck me hard, please. want it rough.”

you think you hear taesan mutter something about you being a dream before his pulling out till just the tip is stretching your hole— and slamming back inside.

you both turn a little animalistic and desperate, learning how the other feels and bodies being taken over by the pleasure of it. taesan’s cock stretches you out so good— he fucks you so good. the rocking of his bed frame hits against his wall, and you have a fleeting thought about if the walls are thin and if he’ll get a noise complaint— before all that is forgotten as taesan takes hold of one of your thighs and bends it against your chest.

“feel it, baby? feel how fucking bad i want you?” taesan groans between his teeth, hand squeezing tightly around your leg unconsciously— and you secretly hope it leaves mark indentations from his rings; tiny bruises from his fingers you can admire the next day.

you only can respond so his deeply uttered words with a broken moan, and taesan only fucks you harder.

“that’s it, princess got what she wanted.” he coos, eyes surprising you by how they turn a little soft— though the movement of his hips certainly never do. “always give my princess what she wants.”

you whine at that, grabbing him by the shoulders to ask for a kiss.

“fuck, you drive me crazy, y/n.” he breathes before leaning down to yet again give you what you ask for.

“but i like that about you.” he finishes between kisses.

your thighs are trembling in pleasure, sweat is lining your hairline and glistening from taesan’s chest— and you can’t take it anymore, wrapping your legs around taesan’s waist as your nails dig into his back.

“can i come, please? oh, fff— please?”

“such a good fucking slut when you got a cock in you, huh? can’t believe my princess likes it rough.”

his hand manages to squeeze between your bodies despite how tightly you cling to him, his fingers finding your clit and tracing shapes over it.

“cum, baby. get it all over my sheets.”

your body going stiff before trembling uncontrollably against him, all while your pussy clenched around his throbbing cock— it brings taesan to release as well, pressing his mouth to yours to swallow each other's cries of pleasure.

the come down is slow, taesan rolling over and pulling your body on top of his so he doesn’t accidentally fall against you in exhaustion.

your deep breaths puff warmly against his neck as he cradles you on his chest, hands swirling patterns over your back absentmindedly.

“that was…amazing.” you say around a sigh, enjoying the comforting aroma of taesan’s cologne imbedded into his sheets.

“yeah…are you done?” taesan asks, still breathy yet curious— and you raise your head to look at his face.

“you want to go again?”

“well,” taesan starts, somewhat sheepishly— yet his eyes hold that constant playful sparkle. “just thought you might be curious what it feels like to get eaten out with a piercing.”

your eyes widen, clearly shocked by not only the question but at how correct he is.

“come on, princess. you’re not slick. don’t think i didn’t notice you staring at it when we were at the bar. plus, you did say you wanted me between your legs—“

“can you stop bringing that up!?”

note ; and for anyone wondering, yes, taesan went to reader’s ballet performance. (and yes, he got jealous watching her and jaehyun dancing on stage together…part two material?🤭)

all taglists (perm/fluff/smut) are open if anyone would like to be added! age must be in bio/somewhere on pinned post if you want to be tagged in perm/smut taglist.

#ihangelic smut #taesan smut #taesan x reader #taesan imagines #boynextdoor smut #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #bnd smut #bnd imagines #bnd x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #han taesan #han dongmin #bonedo #hard thoughts #hard hours

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giuliettagaltieri · 7 months ago

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Not Your Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: You opened your eyes

Warning: Angst, fighting, injuries

Word Count: 2209

Inspired by this ask

“God, Y/N. I’m fine.” Rafe pulls your hand from his collar. But you click your tongue at him.

“Come on, I promise you look better with it folded properly.”

Rafe glances at his watch. “We’re running late.”

“Who cares?” You mutter as you straighten the creases of his shirt.

“I do.” He snaps before grabbing hold of your wrist and dragging you out of his room, not letting go until you are standing right next to his car. He opens the door for you and taps his foot as he waits for you to get inside but your steps are too slow with you checking your bag for necessities.

“Tylenol. Mouthwash. First aid kit.” You look up from your bag. “You still have our extra clothes in your trunk, right?”

“Yes.” He spoke impatiently, his bored stare sharpening.

When you finally get inside, he slams the door extra loud, startling you, but you shrug as you fasten your seatbelt.

Rafe jams the key in and ignites the engine. He’s about to step on the pedal when you place a hand on his chest.

“Seatbelt.” You smile sweetly and he bites back a retort, only choosing to roll his eyes and fix his seatbelt.

“Happy?” He spoke sardonically and you scan your eyes over him and grin.

“Yes. Just remember not to go over the speed limit.”

This is why he didn’t like to invite you to parties. You act like a mother hen, and him, your baby chick.

You are glued to his side the whole time. He understands this behavior back when you were six, but you’re fucking adults now, when are you gonna grow out of this?

With you by his side, he can’t score on some chicks. Them thinking that you’re his girl, thus extending his dry spell.

But there’s that new girl by the punch tables. Standard hot girl, lean, tanned, long legs, and bleached hair. She’s shyly looking at him, but she’s not exactly being discreet either.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” He pries your fingers one by one from his arm.

“I can come with you.” You suggest hopefully but he’s already heading to the punch table. You head to the side, sitting on an old and broken down cobblestone wall as the night breeze nips your skin. Just smiling and nodding at the people you know while watching the rest of them have fun.

The party is in full blast. There’s a lot of Tourons joining the party too.

You wonder what’s taking Rafe so long.

Deciding it was best to go look for him, you get up from your seat. You brush the dust off your shorts as you tighten the button up that you stole from Rafe’s closet around your body.

Just as you start looking for him, you notice hurried footsteps and cheers from one side of the party. A guy bumps into you but he quickly hooks an arm on your waist to keep you from falling.

“Oops.” He laughs. “Sorry, Y/N!” It was JJ and you watched him run with the others.

“What’s going on?” You mutter.

You hear a sigh next to you and you turn to see Sarah and Kie, looking at the gathered crowd in disappointment. Sarah turns to you with a tired face. “Rafe got in a fight with a Touron.”

They look at you in pity as horror crosses your face. As you run to the fight, they shake their heads. You’re too good for this world.

You run as fast as your legs can carry you, hands pushing people away just to get through.

When you finally do, you see Rafe with a busted lip, his chest squared up and heaving as he looks at his opponent who is barely standing, leaning his weight on some girl you don’t recognize. His face was red in certain places, his eyelids swollen, two nostrils bleeding. Is he missing a tooth? Good God.

Rafe was yelling insults, how this is his island, he’s about to march over when you throw yourself on him, arms tightly wrapping around his torso to keep him from moving.

“Y/N! Fucking let go!” He grips your arms tightly, adrenaline clearly coursing through his veins.

“No! That’s enough!” You say sternly as you bunch his shirt on your fist. “We should go. Please!”

Rafe scoffs. “I said, let go!”

When you only tighten your grip, he curses and throws the guy one last glare before dragging you with him back to his car.

“What were you thinking, beating up that guy?” You say in disbelief as you make him lean against the hood of his car while you dig through your purse.

He curses at you when you dab a wet wipe on his lip.

“If you don’t get in stupid fights, I won’t have to clean you up now, will I?” You reply angrily before slapping his hand away and dabbing gently. You play oblivious to his searing glare. Trying to ignore his hisses when you accidentally dab too roughly.

“Why’d you decide to make that guy a punching bag, anyway?” You ask while smearing a disinfectant ointment on his wound. Your heart beating wildly at your close proximity.

Rafe clicks his tongue. “His girl was flirting with me.”

You look at him in disappointment, making his blood boil. He hates receiving that look, it reminds him of how he constantly fails his father.

“You must have encouraged her too.” You really don’t know when to stop.

“Shut up, alright?” He pushes past you. “It’s not like I knew she had a fucking boyfriend.”

You sigh as you tidy up your kit. Rafe opens the door for you and you take your time in getting in.

“Why’d you have to flirt with all the girls at every party? Can you think with your mind next time and not with your dick?” You mutter under your breath as you glare at nothing in particular, upset that he’s got himself into trouble, and upset that it’s because of a girl. Again.

“That’s it.” Rafe slams the door before you can take a step in, the impact makes you gasp, your fingers nearly crushed by the door. Your eyes are wide and afraid as you look at him. He backs you up until your back is flushed against the door. He rests an arm over your head, as he points a finger dangerously close to your face.

“Rafe-”

“I’m fucking done with your bullshit.” He spoke through gritted teeth. “If you think you have the right to speak to me this way, let me tell you something. You don’t.”

You bite your lower lip, eyes turning glassy as you fight the urge to cry. “I’m just concerned.” Whatever immunity you thought you had from his anger crumbles like sand on the palm of your hand. You’re no exemption from his outbursts, apparently. You’re just like everybody to him.

“I didn’t ask for your concern.” He laughs dryly. “And I don’t care about your stupid crush on me, either.”

Your lips part as you blanch, looking at him in embarrassment and frustration. Your palms sweat as your fingers twitch, wanting nothing else but to get swallowed by the earth.

“Yeah. You think I don’t know about your feelings for me?” He laughs at you before he slams a fist on his car, making you scream and cover your ears in fear. “It’s kinda cute, you know. Watching you chase after me, clean after me, do everything I say like a pathetic puppy waiting for a treat.”

Something inside you snaps. “Stop talking.” You hiccup, tears dripping down your cheeks.

Huh, it’s been a while since he saw those tears.

“Why?” He asks in feign concern. “Am I hurting your feelings?”

“Yes.” You say shamelessly, making him scoff. “I just wanna go home, please,”

Mascara has ruined your pretty makeup, tears wetting your cheeks as your hair sticks on your temples, making you look disheveled and wrecked.

Rafe looks at you blankly as he runs a tongue on his tooth. “Fine.” He runs a hand over his face as he attempts to calm his breathing. He’s tired of your bullshit for today, he’ll deal with you tomorrow. “Let’s get you home.”

He opens the door for you and you get in without sparing him a glance, your shaking hands quickly fastening the seat belt. Rafe looks at you in silence but your eyes are dropped to your feet, adamant on not looking at him.

“You crybaby.” He spoke lowly and you closed your eyes. “Get it through your dumb head, alright? I don’t fucking like you.”

You whimper, arms wrapping around yourself as you shrink away from him.

“Stop doting on me like we’re dating.” He continues. “You’re fucking embarrassing.”

“Just take me home, please.” You sob and for a moment he feels the need to wipe your tears but he stops himself, a frown creases in his brows.

“And don’t fucking boss me around. You’re not my mom.” He slams the door and the rest of the drive is filled with nothing but your sniffles.

The thing about Rafe Cameron is that he’s impulsive. Always speaking his mind without thinking of the consequences. He is very quick to anger yet very quick to calm down after the stimulus vanishes from his line of sight.

You can’t keep up with the shift of his emotions throughout the ride. With him honking at every driver in front of him then suddenly nudging you and pointing at something down the street, laughing like he didn’t just murder you inside. He really doesn’t understand what he’s done. He’s a child and you wanna strangle yourself for ever letting yourself love a man like him.

“Shit, Y/N, calm down.” He groans as he parks outside your house.

You attempt to open the door but he clicks the lock in place.

“Let me out.” You whimper.

He rests his elbow against the door and scratches his chin. “Not until you calm down.”

“I’m calm.” You respond in a shaking voice.

“Uhuh.” He hums as he rakes his eyes over your face. “Can’t take a rejection, princess?”

You don’t respond, hands tightening over your bag.

“We’re not in fucking elementary school anymore.” He props his head against his knuckles as he grins at you. “And I’m not Rafey anymore.”

“I know.” You spoke harshly as your bloodshot eyes stared forward.

He chuckles. “Good, that’s good.”

“Yes. The ‘Rafey’ I know would never hurt me like this. You’re not him, not anymore.” You stare at him blankly. “He’s gone and I can see that now.”

Rafe straightens up in his seat, biting his cheek as he nods at you, though his mind is still trying to wrap around your words.

“Right. It’s good that you get it now.” But why does he suddenly regret all this?

He’s been trying to get you to understand this for the longest time. And now that you finally do, all the challenge between you is gone, and he is lying if what is going to happen after this does not make him anxious. Is this another one of your reverse psychology tricks? You know it always worked on him.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and he clears his throat, swiftly opening his door and races to your side but you beat him to it. He swallows thickly as he shoves his sweating palms in his pocket.

Rafe walks you to your gate but you don’t acknowledge him, even if he pushes the gates open for you. He tries to catch your eyes but he starts to bleed with the background around you, no longer relevant enough to be looked at.

When you lock the gates, he leans on it and watches you turn away and head to your house. Leaving without the usual cheek kisses and “see you laters”

He clears his throat. “Uh…so, tomorrow?” A desperate attempt to keep you with him a little longer.

You pause and you turn to look at him with your face cold and hard, so devoid of emotions. He never thought you’d be capable of holding such a look. “What about tomorrow?”

He grips on the thin metal of your gate, the weathered paint chipping and clinging to his palms. “You said you wanted to check out the ice cream parlor that just opened?” He adds the charming smile he knows you like but your face remains blank.

“I changed my mind.” You start to walk away again but he calls your name and you look at him with a small frown on your eyebrows. You really wanted nothing to do with him anymore, huh?

“I’ll call you later?”

“What for?” You cross your arms and for the first time, he is rendered speechless, his tongue heavy as he racked his brain for a response.

You’re right, what for?

Rafe shrugs while he tugs at his collar. “I don’t know. Don’t you like it when we call?”

You sigh. “Goodbye, Rafe.”

He watches you leave and he tightens his grip on the gate, making the metal dig on his palms.

“Goddammit!”

He messed up. He messed up real bad. And he’s not sure he can still fix this.

Not Her Man • His Girl

#rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #outer banks #outerbanks rafe #obx #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #rafe angst #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #childhood friend!reader

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cressidagrey · 1 month ago

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Such A Mystery - Part 7

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army.

Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.

“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.

Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.

"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.

“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.

Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."

"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.

"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."

Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.

"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."

"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.

Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."

"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."

Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.

Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.

"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!

Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"

"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."

Things. George Russell had said some things.

Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"

Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.

"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.

"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.

No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.

Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.

"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.

"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.

"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."

Colette huffed but she was still seething.

Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"

"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"

Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.

Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.

"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.

Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:

"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."

For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.

"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.

"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."

"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."

Colette just huffed.

"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.

Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.

"No," Jos answered flatly.

Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"

"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.

"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."

The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.

Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.

"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."

Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.

"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.

“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.

On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."

"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.

"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."

Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture.

"Fuck," Victoria cursed.

“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”

All three of them just gaped at the TV.

Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.

"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."

He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.

Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.

All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.

And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.

"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.

"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.

Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.

It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.

It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.

They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.

Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.

How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?

It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.

It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.

And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.

Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.

Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.

"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."

She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.

"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."

Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.

"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.

There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.

"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.

The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.

The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.

It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.

But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.

"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."

“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”

She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.

"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.

Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.

“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“

“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"

But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes, you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."

The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.

Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.

Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."

It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.

She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.

Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.

She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.

"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.

"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"

Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.

The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.

"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"

Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.

She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.

“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.

Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.

“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.

A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.

"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."

The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”

"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."

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ozzgin · 9 months ago

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Yandere! Sea Monster x Reader

In the spirit of Mermay, I come to you with a slightly different approach: an octopus hybrid, dwelling in the dark depths of ancient waters. :) Hopefully close enough to the sea monster you imagined, @wally0117

Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, monster romance, reader likes sharks (a lot); inspired by The Shape of Water and My Octopus Teacher; photo from Whalebone Magazine

He’s always been aware of humans, naturally. Observed them from the beginnings of time, from the very first rudimentary attempt of a boat that crossed his waters. Though he can only guess how these creatures exist, how they breathe, how they move. What arrives in his depths is always a corpse of some sort. Bloated, decaying carcasses, rarely intact, whether chipped by fish or by time. Everything else is left to his imagination.

Until today. The fish are restless, the currents are stronger. Something must be happening above, stringing him along curiously. His many legs sway in tandem, opening and closing, as he investigates the source of interest. His pale white eyes narrow to a mere squint, unused to the light of the surface levels. At last, he finds it: a human.

Yet this one is unusual. Intact - save for the bleeding wound - and unlike the washed-out, cadaveric blue tint he’s normally accustomed to. He notices a twitch of the limb and it dawns on him: this one is still alive.

You wake up with a violent cough, thrusting out the leftover liquid that had invaded your lungs earlier. You clearly remember drowning, so how did you end up on shore again? The answer reveals itself rather quickly: a monstrous creature, albeit humanoid for the most part. The upper half resembles a man, but the torso ends in thick, enormous tentacles, now flopped onto the sand, surrounding your body. You search for the creature’s face, framed by translucent tendrils that seem to replace what you’d expect as hair.

“Thank you”. He scans your features and remains silent. Does he even understand human speech? After a moment of consideration, he looks ahead, surveying the water, then returns to you, giving you a nudge. He most likely wants to know how you ended up in that situation to begin with. “That’s, well…”

Conveniently enough, the monster has brought you back to your little camp, so you reach for your backpack and pull out a book. Of course, no words can ever replace the image itself. With renewed enthusiasm, you open your encyclopedia and turn it towards the man, showing him a photo of a sand tiger shark, tapping on it excitedly. “I was looking for sharks!”

Ever since the bizarre, life-saving encounter, you’ve been returning to the same spot most days. And without exception, the monster will be waiting for you in one of the neighboring caves. Judging by the pellucid, pale skin and his reluctance to be in the light, you guessed early on that he might be a creature of the depths.

One that has been around for a long time, it seems. Once he understood your interest in sharks and other aquatic animals, he developed a liking to play guide for you, silently touring you through forests of kelp, hidden caves, labyrinths of reefs and hills. He knows where the animals linger, and they don't scurry away when you approach. You've never dreamed of being so close to them, staring into their eyes and tracing their fins as they swim past you, unbothered and relaxed. The monster will gaze at you from a distance, amused by your passion.

On ground, you’ve begun your own little experiment: can the octopus creature learn sign language? You didn’t need long to discover how intelligent he is, mimicking your gestures with flawless ease, instantly memorizing the meanings, the connections, the implications. He seems to be terribly delighted by this newfound tool of communication, often asking you questions with earnest curiosity.

Ah, yes, the questions. It makes sense that he’d want to know more about humans, though his interrogations are rather…particular. Specific. It’s less about humans as a whole, and more about you. How long have you been swimming here? How deep can you actually swim, with or without aid? Might you have a family waiting for you back home? A mate, perchance? No? Interesting.

"My vacation will end soon", you sign with pursed lips. He tilts his head. "Leaving?" his webbed hands gesture, somewhat uneasy. You nod. You can discern a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Eventually, he resumes: "Would you like to see my home?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise. His home? Down there? Was such a thing even achievable for a human like you?

The plump suckers attach themselves to your skin, one resting over your mouth. "Do you trust me?" You cast one final glance over the underwater abyss, a black hole trapping all light and matter. You shake your head in approval. Without hesitation, he plunges over the cliff, pulling you after him and into the yawning void of darkness. His form glows eerily, and his movement is swift and elegant. You can tell this is his land, his territory. You would've been dead a long time ago.

He releases you on the wet stone, inside the air pocket of a cave. You need a few moments to overcome the wave of claustrophobia pressing against your lungs. As you catch your breath, you recall your long path from the surface. It would be impossible to make it back out again without your friend. A cold shiver runs across your spine. "Have a break, and I'll show you everything else afterwards", he gestures with a smile. "How long will it take? I don't want to walk back at night", you explain.

Silence. You stare into his empty orbs, awaiting a reaction. There's not a sound, not a gust of wind, not a shred of light. "You're not going back", he finally answers.

You see, he's done a fair amount of research himself. He doesn't need an encyclopedia to figure you out: how you breathe, how you move, how you exist. In fact, he is rather confident in his ways of helping you adapt to a life spent together. He would've never brought you down here if he wasn't certain of your survival. His grin widens in anticipation, a strange warmth enveloping his innards at the mere thought of it: a future with you in it, right here. However, one question remains, a cheeky, perverted detail that has been on his mind from the moment he met you, yet he could never investigate it properly.

How do humans mate?

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luffington · 5 months ago

Text

nurse's office ♡

➤ summary: Even doctors need check-ups, so you indulge your boyfriend and put on a sexy nurse costume. (18+)

➤ pairing: trafalgar law x afab!reader

➤ word count: 3.1k

➤ warnings: switch!law, modern AU, nurse-patient roleplay, praise kink, established relationship, fluff, silly porn dialogue, fem reader

➤ notes: i LOVE law with all my heart but i have such a hard time writing him.... hopefully this turned out okay and it's accurate to his character :')

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

When you returned to your apartment after work, the lights were on and a familiar black trench coat hung in the entrance, but the coat’s owner was nowhere in sight. You called his name as you slipped off your shoes and received no response.

A muffled noise coming from your shared bedroom caught your attention.

Curious, you crept through the living room and creaked open the door just enough to slip inside. Law sat at his desk in the dark with his back turned away from you. Completely focused on his dimmed laptop screen with headphones plugged in and unaware of your presence. A smile spread across your face when you noticed what he was watching.

A busty brunette woman in an incredibly cliché nurse outfit batted her fake eyelashes at the camera as she deep-throated her patient’s dick. Your boyfriend’s inked hand rose up and down his own cock, eyes half-lidded and biting his lip to attempt to stifle his throaty groans. When you were literally right behind him, you leaned over his shoulder to read the video title out loud. “‘The Best Prescription In Town Is A Dose Of This Naughty Nurse’s Pussy’?”

Law’s entire body went cold.

“I-It’s not what it looks like!” He panicked, whipping his head towards you and accidentally ripping his headphones cord out of the jack. Exaggerated and unrealistic slurping sounds, accompanied by the male actor’s moans, started playing at full volume. Law forgot how his typically agile fingers worked as he rushed to pause the video. He was ready to diagnose himself with a heart attack.

Your eyes flickered to the bottle of lube and box of tissues beside his laptop. “I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”

“No, I…” Embarrassment flooded his veins and he scrambled for a logical explanation. You were clearly amused instead of upset, but that didn’t deter him. Steeling his nerves, your boyfriend cleared his throat and prayed his voice didn’t shake. “I wanted to see how accurate this was, but it’s a disgusting mockery of nurses. This is completely inappropriate in a real hospital.”

“Well, duh,” you chuckled and rolled your eyes. You leaned closer to study the other tabs open in his incognito mode browser. One search for ‘hot nurse’ and another for ‘nurse fucks patient’. A second video titled ‘Nursing Student Gives Penis Exam’. A spark ignited in you. “Law, is this what you’re into?”

He stayed silent and let his head fall down in shame – which only directed your gaze to his quickly softening dick – as he mumbled a timid apology.

“Oh, baby, you have nothing to apologize for.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and nuzzled against his neck. “Please don’t be embarrassed, I genuinely wanna know what turns you on. I won’t judge, I promise.”

“You’re prettier than everyone in these videos,” was his only response. He was such a sweetheart without even trying.

Even though you’d been together for quite a while, Law still had a hard time discussing his kinks. The man had a neurotic need to protect his innermost thoughts and thick iron walls guarding every part of his mind. It took a lot of time and patience, but you’d managed to break down most of his barriers. You wanted him to trust you and feel comfortable around you; having fun in the bedroom was just a bonus.

Pressing your lips to his ear, you teasingly whispered, “I can buy a nurse costume, you know.”

“Huh? Are you serious?!” Wide gray eyes met yours, a flurry of emotions overtaking his stressed-out expression.

“Of course! I’ll look for a cute one right now.” You pulled out your phone, pausing before opening your browser to bat your eyelashes and say, “Only if you want me to.”

“I – I…” Law fumbled for words, unable to keep up with the thoughts racing through his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he licked his dry lips and hastily leaned over to look at your screen. “Let me see the options.”

The costume was set to arrive in 3-4 business days, which gave you and Law plenty of time to talk and plan. Both of you discussed what you wanted out of the scenario and what you each felt comfortable doing. You promised Law you’d do actual research by watching nurse pornos in order to imitate them, and he swore to never correct you mid-scene with his accurate medical knowledge.

His steely eyes lit up when he spoke and made your heart flutter with love. As an accomplished surgeon, he took care of countless patients every day – of course he wanted someone to do the same for him. Nothing was sexier than seeing Law turn to putty in your hands, happily melting into your protection.

The fateful night arrived with a flimsy package at your front door.

Law sat on the couch in the ‘waiting room’ (also known as the living room), anxiously rubbing the letters tattooed on his knuckles and bouncing his legs. His throat was parched, his heart was racing, and his dick was already getting hard.

His jaw dropped when you opened the bedroom door – no, your office. The tight white dress hugged your body perfectly, accentuating all of your best features. Firetruck red stripes lined the sleeves and collar, and a prominent zipper ran all the way down the front. Your boobs were spilling out of the low-cut top and the skirt barely covered your upper thighs. A dainty white hat sat atop your head, sporting a white cross in a red circle that matched the one on your breast pocket. The look was complete with thigh-high white stockings, lacy crimson lingerie, Law’s real stethoscope around your neck, and a notebook and pen in your hand.

“Trafalgar Law?” You called out coquettishly.

His excited cock tried to answer for him, but he took a deep breath and nodded. “T-That’s me.”

With an overly sweet grin, you beckoned him into the room. “It’s time for your appointment. Follow me.”

Previously arranged pillows on the bed mimicked the half-upright position of a medical chair. Law couldn’t look away from you as he shuffled towards his ‘exam table’, sitting down so his legs hung off the edge. You placed a gentle hand under his scruffy chin, his gaze flickering between your face and your tits.

“Now, what seems to be the problem?”

Law didn’t have the confidence (nor the acting ability) to answer ‘my dick’ the way a pornstar would. So he settled for, “I’m not sure, miss. Maybe… give me a physical?”

“Ooh, a full body inspection,” you giggled, putting on a pair of hospital-grade latex gloves. “Please remove your shirt and lie on your back.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only my shirt?”

Biting back a laugh, you responded, “Let’s take it one step at a time, okay?”

Your boyfriend nodded obediently, neatly folding his canary yellow t-shirt beside him on the bed. It didn’t matter how often you saw his heavily tattooed chest – you were in awe of it every time. You opened your notebook, humming in mock contemplation and scribbling nonsense on a blank page in an imitation of Law’s terrible doctor handwriting. He tried to peek at what you were doing, but you quickly shut the cover.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you,” you cooed with a gentle smile and ruffled his hair.

He apologized curtly and settled back into a comfortable reclined position. Running your fingers along his jawline, you trailed your touch down the column of his throat and across his collarbones. Gently massaging his shoulders and feeling the tense muscles loosen as he let out a content sigh. You were unable to resist tracing the massive inked heart on his torso as you’d done so many times, lightly trailing your pointer finger across its flames and swirls and sending pleasant tingles throughout his body.

Repeating the action on his matching bicep tattoos, you cheekily stated, “Such strong muscles. Your girlfriend is a lucky woman.”

He chuckled, finally beginning to relax into his role. “You have no idea.”

“Let me check your heartbeat.” Not even bothering to put the stethoscope in your ears, you ran the cold chestpiece against Law’s nipples, forcing a pretty hiss from his lips. Rubbing circles atop them until both were stiff peaks, then teasingly rolling them between your fingertips until he was flushed and panting.

Satisfied with his worked-up state, you pulled away to write more nonsense in the notebook. Your boyfriend furrowed his eyebrows. “Seriously, what the hell are you writing?”

“Please let me do my job, Mr. Trafalgar.” You firmly smacked the end of your pen against one of his nipples. The sudden display of authority made his cock twitch.

You caressed his defined abdomen muscles, moving lower down his gorgeous body and brushed over his dark happy trail.

“Your chest seems fine, which means…” You trailed off and tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants. Law’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in anticipation, lifting his hips to help you slide down his sweats and boxers underneath.

His rock-hard dick sprung free gratefully, angry red and twitching in excitement. You’d never seen him get this worked up so quickly – it made your cunt ache.

“Well, this is clearly the issue! Poor thing, you must feel so lightheaded from all the blood flowing down here.” You cooed, wiping his dark bangs away from his eyes in mock comfort. “I have to relieve this pressure or else the swelling won’t go down.”

“H-How will you–“ Law’s cheeky question was cut off by a groan when you curled your fingers around the thick base of his cock. Just one stroke pushed out several beads of pearly precum from his pretty tip. The synthetic softness of latex gloves felt strange against such a sensitive part of him, but it made the scenario extra immersive.

“I need to milk you dry. Is that okay with you, Mr. Trafalgar?”

Law nodded eagerly, too overstimulated to consent with words. He’d heard that phrase so many times in his videos. Your chest swelled with pride as you admired his submissive state. It wasn’t easy for your boyfriend to relinquish control to you during sex – no matter how much he wanted to – but he looked like he would die for you at that moment.

You swung your leg over his body to straddle his upper thighs, cunt inches away from where he needed it. The movement caused your skirt to ride up and reveal a peek of your lacy panties. Law gulped when he noticed your soft thighs bulging around the elastic band of your stockings.

Using both hands, you began to jerk him off with slow and deliberate movements. Dragging your palms from the base to the head with the perfect amount of pressure, making sure to trace the sensitive vein on the underside. A steady stream of translucent fluid dribbled out, the length pulsing and begging for more in your grasp. You paused to spit on his tip for added lubrication and rubbed it into his heated skin.

Law was glad you were fixated on his cock rather than his face. He knew he looked pathetic. Barely three minutes had passed and he was embarrassingly close to cumming (though he was proud of himself for not bursting in his pants the moment you emerged in your costume). His abdomen muscles were wound tight and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. Steely gray eyes never left your body, your hands, almost too afraid to blink.

When you fondled his heavy balls, his orgasm hit him like a truck. Law threw his head against the pillow and cried out, painting white streaks across your baby blue gloves. You grinned watching your boyfriend heaving for air, finally meeting his gaze when you swiped your tongue across a thick glob of cum on your thumb. He watched dazedly as you wiped the rest of his spend off on your skirt, then tossed your dirty gloves on the floor.

“Perfect! The swelling went down,” you grinned slyly and added, “but it might come back.”

“Oh, it’s definitely coming back.”

Law grabbed your waist and quickly flipped your positions, pinning you underneath him by sitting on your hips. Holding your wrists above your head in one hand and using the other to cup your jaw, he pressed his lips against yours in a wet and messy kiss. You whined as he shoved his tongue down your throat, eagerly devouring your mouth.

“M-Mr. Trafalgar, this is very unprofessional…” Weakly faking a struggle against his grasp, whining when it only got tighter.

“I gotta self-medicate now, miss, or I’ll never get better.” Your boyfriend kissed his way down your sternum, tugging down the zipper of your costume just enough to reveal your chest. He groaned at the sight of your vivid red bra. “Fuck, what a uniform.”

While mouthing at the swell of your breasts, your boyfriend stroked himself to full hardness – which didn’t take long. Desire was overtaking his mind and turning his vision hazy. He might actually have a medical issue if he didn’t fuck you immediately.

Law slipped his hand between your legs and snickered at the wetness soaked through your panties. Pushing the fabric to the side, he unceremoniously thrust his E and A fingers in your cunt. Those skilled digits pushed and prodded inside you, a grin spreading across his face when he heard the sinful squelch of your drenched walls.

“Naughty nurse,” he chuckled teasingly, gray eyes burning holes into your own when he sucked his sticky fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste.

“I’m not naughty,” you pouted. “My job is to make patients feel better, and this is helping, right?”

“Shit, yeah, you just might cure me.”

Law tapped your inner thighs and you spread them willingly, unsurprised when he chose to shove your panties to the side and keep the costume intact. He pressed his swollen mushroom tip against your leaking entrance. With freed wrists, you gripped the bedsheets, heart racing and pussy throbbing.

Rather than fulfilling both of your desires, your boyfriend paused in thought. “Hold on, what did you diagnose me with?”

You shrugged and defaulted to something you heard in a porno. “Big dick disorder?”

Law fought against every well-educated neuron in his brain begging to correct you. He took a deep breath and let out an exaggerated exhale, but smirked proudly. “I’ll accept it.”

His cock slammed into you and knocked all the air from your lungs. Bottoming out with a groan, he paused to lean back and admire your outfit, feeling his cock get impossibly harder inside your cunt. Fucking a fantasy nurse was a deep-rooted desire of his, and he was amazed and incredibly grateful that he was able to act it out with you.

“Is this the right way to treat my illness?” Smugly punctuating his words with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock kissing the tip of your womb. You’d never seen him so talkative in bed.

“M-move faster… it’ll be more effective.”

“Okay. I trust you, miss nurse.” Law whispered seductively in your ear. His beard tickled your skin when he nipped at a soft spot of your neck.

Setting a brutal pace, he pistoned his cock in and out, balls slapping against your skin with every thrust. Messy wet sounds filled the room – your cunt gushing and your tongues desperately sliding against each other. Law typically limited his vocal expressions of pleasure to grunts and soft groans, but something in him had clearly snapped. He had no issue throwing his head back and moaning unashamedly, interweaving spat curse words and praises of your body.

He sucked on your tongue while switching his hip movements to a slow grind, his dick fully sheathed and rubbing against every delicate inch of your cunt.

“T-Traf… oh, fuck, Law.” Your eyes rolled back into your head as you tangled your fingers in his messy black hair and held onto it for dear life. He swallowed the string of saliva connecting your lips with a playful grin.

Shifting your position into a mating press, you locked your stocking-clad knees around his shoulders. His rough pace resumed, cock reaching impossibly deeper inside you, bullying your cervix with every thrust. Your body rocked back and forth on the shaking mattress. Every movement caused your hat to press against the pillow and reminded you of your costume – no, your role.

“Good girl,” Law panted, pupils blown wide with pleasure. “Taking care of me so well with your pretty pussy.”

You whined needily, feeling your core tighten. “I’m s-so close, baby,”

A sharp slap came down on your tit. Law’s eyes narrowed. “Be professional.”

Despite his strict command, he rewarded you by pressing and flicking his thumb against your neglected clit. You bucked your hips into his touch desperately, grinding the sensitive nub on his calloused finger.

You threw your head backwards, arched off the bed and came with a cry of, “Mr. Trafalgar!” Arms wrapped around his back, legs pulling him in even tighter as your pleasure hit you like a tidal wave, flooding over you in a bright white light.

“Naughty fucking nurse.” Your boyfriend growled with a pleased smirk. Hot cum coated your walls as Law let out a deep moan, your cunt eagerly milking every last drop. Your boyfriend kissed you deeply until the aftershocks of both of your orgasms had subsided.

He collapsed on top of you, both of your chests heaving against each other as you struggled to catch your breath. Releasing your tight grip on his shoulders, you lovingly rubbed the giant skull tattoo on his upper back.

“Thank you, miss. I’m cured.” Law mumbled happily, kissing your cheek.

You frowned. “You are? After one round?”

“Oh.” That certainly wouldn’t be a satisfying ending to his appointment. “Um… No, I’m still very, very sick.” He followed it up with a fake cough. Not exactly a symptom of having a big dick, but whatever.

Deciding to give your overwhelmed boyfriend a break, you took control of the situation again.

“I’m not sure how much medical knowledge you have, Mr. Trafalgar, but I have an ache in my chest.” You reached between your bodies to innocently spread your unzipped dress even more, pushing out your tits. “Mind checking it out for me?”

Law pushed up the cups of your bra without a second thought, groping your soft flesh with large palms. “I’ll see what I can do.”

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

Note

Hey Mae! Congrats on 7k! Can I get James potter with apple pie, ²⁰⁾ rich vanilla perfume?

Thank you !

cw: slightly suggestive/mature behavior at the end, but only briefly and no details

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 407 words

James comes home from work exorbitantly happy. It’s not unusual for your boyfriend to walk through the door with a smile on his face, but you can tell this one is extra sunny. It’s impossible to keep your lips from curving in response.

“Hello,” you say, somewhat coyly. You turn your gaze back to the bowl you’re washing in the sink. “How was your day?”

“It was lovely.” James comes up behind you, easing his arms around your middle. He smooches your neck, and you squirm at the ticklish sensation. “Very, very good. I got a note from a secret admirer.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Mhm. In my lunch. It was very cute, clearly the work of a mastermind at romance.”

You laugh. “Wow. No idea who it was, then?”

“Nope.” James does a decent job of sounding downtrodden, though the hand he’s using to lovingly squish your tummy tells a different story. “It wasn’t signed. They did spray it with this lovely perfume, though, very nice, it was like vanilla and—wait.” He sticks his nose into your neck. It’s so ticklish you nearly shriek, but he holds fast to you. “I recognize that smell, don’t I?”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you laugh, raising your shoulder so he’s forced to retreat. “It’s a common enough perfume, it could’ve been anyone.”

“Funny, I don’t remember gifting it to anyone else,” says James, but he’s playing nice now, his kiss on your shoulder more loving than playful. You let it drop, and he gives you one on your cheek, soft and sincere. “Thank you, sweetheart. It was a very nice surprise.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” You feel a bit shy in the face of his blatant adoration. James senses it, kissing you again so he hits the corner of your lips.

“I’ve had to bury it in a desk drawer so it’ll hopefully keep its scent for a while,” he tells you. “My pens are going to smell delicious tomorrow.”

“Yeah? You like it a lot?” You know he does, he’d been the one to pick it out, but still you like to hear it.

“A lot a lot,” James confirms. “You smell good enough to eat, angel.”

“Oh, yeah?”

This time he hears the teasing in your voice, along with another tone he likes very much. When he smooshes his lips to your neck again, agreeing heartily, you decide to leave the dishwater to get cold.

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girlsforxiao · 21 days ago

Text

⎯ Out of His League ꒰ 𐙚 ꒱

⌢ ꒰੭. Jude bellingham x fem reader 𐙚 porn with plot, smut (mdni) oral m receiving, p in v, celebratory sex (kinda)

Harassed by a famous rapper online and in person you and Jude grow closer...

︴a/n: I wrote this in 2023 but hated it because how fluffy it was ALSO this actually happened to my friend when a locally famous rapper wouldn't leave her alone what an era

WC: 2.5k

Guess what rapper the one in the fic is inspired by ;)

You adjust the neckline of your dress, ensuring it sits just right, grace evident in every delicate movement. You weren’t nervous exactly, but being in a room full of sports icons, industry elites, and glittering celebrities wasn’t something you experienced every day. Across the room, Jude stood talking to a group of his teammates—a mandatory arrangement before he could rejoin you.

His sharp black suit hugged his broad shoulders like it was custom-made, which it probably was, and his easy smile was just as lethal as it had been when you first met him.

Your Jude.

As if sensing your gaze, he glanced over, his smile shifting into something softer, something meant only for you. It took your breath away, the way it always did, and for a moment, the crowded room faded into the background. Then, someone brushed past you, jarring you out of your thoughts.

“Didn’t think I’d see an angel here tonight,” a voice drawled to your left.

You blinked, startled, and turned to see a man you recognized immediately—him. The rapper everyone seemed to adore these days. A household name, known for his trendy songs and striking looks, though you never saw the hype. He was grinning, his confidence almost overwhelming, and you felt a flicker of irritation.

“Sorry, but I think you’ve got the wrong person,” you said lightly, offering a polite smile as you sipped your drink, planning your escape.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He leaned casually against the bar, his chain catching the light as he looked you up and down, his blatant appraisal making your skin crawl. “You’ve got that look, you know? The one that makes a man wanna risk it all.”

Your jaw tightened. You’d heard lines like this before, but coming from him, it felt even more ridiculous. “I’m flattered,” you said, turning back to your drink, “but I’m here with someone—my boyfriend,” you added evenly, the emphasis on the last word sharp enough to cut.

“Boyfriend, huh?” He didn’t miss a beat, clearly undeterred.

You rolled your eyes and stood, glancing toward Jude, still deep in conversation, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the chandeliers. “I should go to him.”

The rapper followed your gaze, Jude's back was turned, to far to see him properly. “Don’t see him, Athletes are great and all, but they don’t write songs about you. I could write you a whole album, you know.”

“No thanks,” you replied curtly, walking away before he could retaliate. Your dress swished elegantly behind you, and you didn’t bother looking back. Hopefully, you wouldn’t wake up to an NDA email.

Jude caught sight of you just as he finished his conversation. He smiled, reaching for your hand as you slipped seamlessly into place beside him. “You good?”

“Perfect,” you said lightly.

His thumb brushed against your wrist, a small, grounding gesture that made your heart leap.

The next morning, sunlight poured through the half-drawn curtains, illuminating the tangle of sheets and scattered clothes. You blinked awake, groaning as your phone vibrated against the nightstand.

Jude stirred behind you, his arm lazily looping over your waist. “Tell whoever it is to stop interrupting my baby,” he mumbled, his voice husky with sleep.

You grabbed your phone, squinting at the screen.

[@Rappermame]

“Hey. You looked unreal.”

“We should meet up soon, as homies tho.”

“Don’t leave me hanging, gorgeous.”

7:39 AM.

Your eyebrows shot up. “What the—”

“Mm?” Jude cracked one eye open, his hair adorably tousled. “What’s got you annoyed this early?”

You tilted the screen toward him. “Him.”

Jude squinted at the messages, his face blank for a beat before his lips twitched. Then he laughed—bright and genuine, the kind of laugh that made his dimples show. “No way. Is that who I think it is?”

“It’s not funny!” you hissed, though your lips betrayed you with a twitch of amusement. “It hasn’t even been twelve hours!”

You explained the interaction from the night before, and Jude found it endlessly amusing.

He plucked the phone from your hands, scrolling through the messages with an exaggerated smirk. “I mean, I get it. Look at you. If I weren’t already your favorite person, I’d be in his shoes right now, sliding into your DMs like, ‘Hey, you free for dinner? My treat.’”

You shoved his shoulder, giggling despite yourself. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you’re still here.” He set your phone down and pulled you against his chest, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Relax, baby. Want me to call someone to deal with him?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’m just going to block him. It’s not like I’ll ever see him again.”

He hummed in agreement, tracing lazy circles on your back.

A few days later, you were back in your apartment, poring over notes for work when your phone buzzed on the coffee table. Expecting a message from work, friends, family, or even Jude, you leaned over to grab it.

Instead, it was a delivery notification.

You frowned. You hadn’t ordered anything.

Moments later, the doorbell rang. Opening it, you were greeted by a delivery man holding an enormous bouquet of roses and a sleek black envelope bearing your name.

Your stomach sank. You already knew who it wasn't from, Jude. He knew what flowers you liked.

Setting the bouquet on the counter, you reluctantly opened the envelope. Inside, the card read:

"Thinking of you. You'd look great in my new music video."

Your gut churned. This was getting weird. You should’ve let Jude handle this earlier.

Groaning, you checked the time to see if Jude might be free. Pulling out your phone, you dialed his number.

“Hey, my love,” he answered, his voice light and warm. You could hear his teammates joking in the background, Vinicius was definitely giggling. “You okay?”

“That rapper is starting to get weird,” you said without preamble.

There was a beat of silence. “Define weird,” Jude replied, his tone still playful but with an edge of seriousness.

“He sent me flowers. And a card. To my apartment.”

“Your apartment?” His voice was sharper now. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this.”

“Thanks, baby. I figured he’d stop when I blocked him. Who wouldn’t? It’s just… weird.”

“Guess we underestimated his desperation,” Jude muttered, clearly annoyed. “Prick. Can’t have random guys thinking they’ve got a shot with you.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his possessive tone.

“And hey,” he added, his voice lighter again, “when you come to Madrid to watch my match, bring the flowers. They’ll look great in my trash.”

The following week, you arrived at Jude’s place, suitcase in hand. The flowers were tucked at the bottom, half-forgotten among your packed clothes and toiletries.

You didn’t even glance at them as you unpacked, too focused on settling in before Jude’s big game.

The match was electric. Jude was unstoppable, weaving through defenders, commanding the field, and earning thunderous cheers with every play. It was classic Jude.

When the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted into cheers, cementing a well-deserved win for Madrid.

Inside, you joined the crowd near the players’ exit. When Jude finally appeared, his curls still damp from his post-match shower, his grin was as radiant as the floodlights.

The moment he spotted you, his expression softened. “My love.”

You were already moving toward him, and he pulled you into a tight hug, holding you longer than necessary. “Did you see that? How’d I do?”

You were amazing,” you said, your voice brimming with warmth.

Jude leaned back slightly, his smile turning playful. “You’re not just saying that because we’re celebrating later, right?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “I don’t know. We’ll have to see. We definitely need to celebrate, though.”

You both wasted no time to get his place. Jude carried you through the front door, his breathing still uneven from the game.

“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” you murmured, your voice warm with amusement.

“Too late now,” he said, smirking down at you as he nudged the door shut with his foot. “Besides, I’m not letting you walk around in those heels. Your feet need a break.”

You laughed quietly, a sound that sent warmth spreading through his chest. “I think you need the break more than me. You just played a full ninety minutes. Even more.”

“And won,” he added with a grin as he started up the stairs. “Pretty sure that gives me superhuman strength, at least for tonight.”

Your cheeks flushed as his words registered, and you rested your head against his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Ridiculously in love with you.” He said it lightly, but the way your body tensed in his arms didn’t escape his notice.

You looked up at him, your gaze searching his face as though trying to decide if he was joking. He wasn’t.

“I mean it,” he said softly, his voice steady as he reached the bedroom door and pushed it open.

Your lips parted, cheeks faintly flushed, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you leaned up just enough to press a kiss to his jaw, lingering for a heartbeat longer than usual.

At some point, you left him to grab "pajamas" from your suitcase. As you rifled through her things, Jude wandered into his room, stretching after changing himself.

“What’s this?” he asked, pulling a corner of something red and floral out of her bag.

You froze, groaning. “Oh, those. I forgot they were in there.”

Jude held up the bouquet, inspecting it. “You don't even like red roses...”

“Exactly,” you said, delighted, gesturing towards the bin as you took off your top. “I only brought them so you could throw them out.”

Jude left the flowers on the nightstand and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close. “Now, can we focus on more important things? Like celebrating tonight?”

Gently laying you down on the bed as though you were made of glass. He lingered for a moment, his gaze full of intensity. "Perfect," he murmured, almost to himself, before leaning down to kiss you.

You shivered when the kiss trailed to your neck, sucking on spots that made your core wet.

"Jude,” you murmured, his name coming out a plea. Involuntarily your arms curled around him, pulling him closer. The heat of your bodies pressed together maddening.

"Wanna suck you off," you whimpered, gaze drifting up to meet Jude's. For a moment, your eyes locked onto his, "Hang on," he murmured, shifting. He eased himself onto the mattress, leaning back–

You moved instinctively, moving to kneel in front of him, your fingers trailing over his knee as you watched him settle. Jude bit his bottom lip with a lopsided smile, tilting his head, lust making his mind fog. "...can't believe're all for me." He slurred out.

You take off his shorts then underwear, eyes never fully getting uses to his size. He sucks in a harsh breath as your hand wraps around him, sliding, You plant a kiss to his tip and he shudders.

Then swipe your tongue side to side under the vein which makes him moan and desperatley grab the sheets. "Fuck—" his cock throbbed without you even sucking him off fully yet.

You move slowly, purposefully, painfully drawing out each long drag of your tongue up his length, "Baby please," your tongue alone feels like heaven. So wet and warm, he wants to give you everything.

He loses his self control and thrusts in your mouth– bruising your throat, your lips tightening around his girth, taking him fully. He looks beautiful like this. Heavy breaths, damp forehead, hazy eyes.

Jude shoves your head down his cock, once, twice. Tears line your eyes and threaten to spill over, “’re taking me so good, y’know that? so good, baby.” He whines, moving his hand to caress your cheek, before he hisses again.

"Baby, I'm gonna come–"

He watched as you swallowed is release, lips glossed in spit while your eyes glistened with tears. You were so beautiful to him. It was complete torture, he'd just came but God the sight of you...like this? For him?

Before you could say anything or do anything, he was already moving, his hands firm but gentle as they grasped your arms and pulled you up in one swift motion.

Jude's chest felt like it might cave in with how much he wanted you, how much he loved you, the emotion brimming at the edges of his control.

His hands tightened at your sides, as if anchoring himself, while his lips moved over yours like he was trying to memorize the shape of you, the taste. He pulled back just enough to gasp, his forehead brushing yours,

"Be a good girl for me, yeah?"

"Mmh..." Your voice raspy from taking his cock in your mouth so you desperatley nod, he grabs one of your legs and slides into you. Where he belongs. You both groan, you feel a burn that blurt the line between pain and pleasure, "Baby, I don't think I can take all of–" you rasp out, voice breaking,

"Yes, you can–" he cut you of with a kiss, tears pricked your eyes again due to the sheer pleasure that coursed through you, slowly he started to move and you squeezed your eyes shut– feeling complete.

The bed under you both moving as he filled over and over again, "You're so tight, fuck," he mumbled in your ear, quickening his already unforgiving pace.

"Ju–de– mgonna–" you moan in broken syllables, your back arches sharply and you see stars. You come. So does he, hot ropes of seed filling your insides. Judes' strong hands holding you firm as you collapsed into him, holding you close.

Jude woke up first, sunlight streaming through the curtains and kissing his face. You were still fast asleep beside him, features soft and glowing. He stretched quietly, enjoying the stillness, until your phone buzzed on the nightstand.

The rapper again.

On his side account now.

[@Rappernamespam]:

"Hope you liked the flowers. Let me know if you’re free."

8:21 am

Jude stared at the message, annoyance flickering across his face. He didn't say anything, but while you two were at it last night, he kept thinking about how persistent this guy was. He didn't take it seriously at first because he trusts you completely, but he's disturbing you. He'll make sure to call his people again and deal with him quietly, but for now...

His lips twisted into a mischievous grin.

Carefully, he reached for his phone, angling it to capture the scene: you sleeping beside him, despite the blanket covering your bareness he made sure to position himself infront of your body, hair spilling across the pillow, and the bouquet of flowers sitting innocently on the nightstand.

He went to the rappers account, "'Follow back'" he read out loud, typical. He then attached the photo to a message and typed:

“The flowers look great, man. Appreciate it. :)”

Hitting send, Jude chuckled to himself and set the phone down. He leaned over to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Hours later, you woke up, the ache in your legs a dull reminder of the night before. You lazily reached for your phone, scrolling through it only to find nothing out of the ordinary.

Jude walked in, balancing a tray of pancakes. "Did you make those?" you asked with a small smile, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to your chest.

He nodded, setting the tray beside you. "That rapper guy– he’s not bothering you anymore, yeah?"

You blinked, momentarily confused, before chuckling softly. "Honestly, I forgot about him," you admitted, focusing your attention on a syrup bottle that refused to cooperate.

Jude knowingly smiled at you in response, the smile turning more mischievous from glancing at messages from his own phone,

[@rappername]

Replying to image: "WTF"

"I swear I didn't know"

"I'm a big fan man please"

[@rappername's account has been suspended]

IF YOU LIKED THIS PLEASE REBLOG <3

#jude bellingham imagine #jude imagine #jude x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham smut #football smut #smut #f1 smut #football imagine #dream situation

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joequiinn · 4 months ago

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 16

[chap fifteen] | [all chapters here] | [chap seventeen]

Summary | You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

Warnings & Notes | fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, dysfunctional family dynamics, idiots-to-lovers, smut & nsfw themes

Author's Note | THIS chapter, yall! I created a super rough draft of this chapter waaay back in the first month of this fic's development and I'm so stoked that I finally got to come back to it after all this time!

WC | 9.1k

Chapter Sixteen

This year, Halloween fell on a Thursday, not that that was stopping any of Hawkins’ teenage population from going absolutely all-out like they did every year. You suspected half of the student body was probably going to skip school tomorrow, considering that everyone seemed to be talking about Chance’s party all damn week - clearly, Halloween was going to take precedence over classes and extracurriculars.

Although you had told Eddie you’d join the Hellfire Club again that night, you became anxious about it, which felt ridiculous - the more and more you replayed last week’s session in your head, the more unsure you were, the more nervous you became. You had practically spilled to Eddie all the pent up shit you’d been feeling via the safety of the princess character, and just recalling it made your ears hot with embarrassment; you weren’t about to let that happen again.

So, you called in a rain-check, making the excuse that you needed extra time to get ready for the party; Eddie teased you about his disappointment, although you could tell in his eyes that he was at least a little let down, even as he tried to play it cool. But, really, it also worked out that you gave yourself a couple extra hours, because you still hadn’t figured out a costume despite spending all week trying to think of ideas. It was as if the mere act of trying to find inspiration garnered you with none at all, your mind constantly drawing a blank whenever asked what or who you’d dress up as.

Having waited till the absolute last minute to even try to find a costume, you sped to the nearest department store after school and tried to search for something amidst whatever remnants were left of the costume section. Despite your moaning and groaning as you dug through vampire capes and witches’ hats, you managed to piece together an idea that, although not thrilling by your standards, was better than nothing at all.

You had also asked Eddie to dress up with you, to which he jokingly suggested a couple’s costume just to watch you squirm at the thought. That idea was quickly shot down, as it was too cheesy even for your own liking. But Eddie assured you he’d come up with something, and thus both your costumes were going to be a surprise to one another.

Not wanting to be those assholes that were punctual to an event, you told Eddie to pick you up at eight - you wouldn’t be the first people there, and that would, hopefully, give him enough time to wrap up with the Hellfire Club and get ready. So, once you returned home from the department store, you were still left with more time than you had expected, breezing past a couple of kids as they approached your house while trick-or-treating.

You worked at a leisurely pace as you fixed your make-up and fussed with your hair, making sure that your outfit looked just right, going so far as to smear fake blood on the front of your shirt. As you got ready, the ringing of the doorbell became more frequent, the trick-or-treaters coming in larger droves once the sun had finally set in the sky.

You were thankful that your mother enjoyed answering the door dozens of times to the sight of excited kids, because it meant you never got roped into the job. You were certain, though, that the children became a little less eager once they were presented with juice boxes instead of candy - despite your efforts to convince her to hand out sweets, she couldn’t be swayed, insisting juice was a better alternative.

Once your costume was finally complete and you assessed yourself in the mirror, you had to admit that you were more satisfied with it than you had anticipated. Despite its simplicity, you figured it was still a recognizable character, so it didn’t look completely half-assed and sloppily thrown together.

It also helped that the tight little shorts you were wearing made your legs look great - not that you were trying to draw someone’s attention to them or anything.

Deciding you weren’t interested in any kind of conversation (or rather, confrontation) with your parents, you lingered up in your room until Eddie finally arrived - considering all the trouble you’d gotten into over the past few weeks, you weren’t all too interested in starting Halloween on a negative note. So, the moment that you spotted his van pulling up along the curb, careful to avoid trick-or-treaters, you practically ran out of the house; trailing behind you, you could hear the sound of your father’s voice, but you bounded out the front door before he could get a word in.

You dashed down the driveway, breezing past a couple of kids bemoaning the juice boxes your mother gave them; you rolled your eyes, knowing she would never change her Halloween habits. Feeling giddy, you and Eddie smiled simultaneously at one another as you climbed into the van. Once you were settled into your seat, Eddie looked you up and down in appraisal of your outfit, and you did the same.

“A pirate?” You questioned, taking in the flowy shirt, dark striped pants, and skull-and-crossbones bandana Eddie wore.

He was still trying to figure out what the hell your costume was - admittedly, the ripped shorts, tight blue flannel, and chunky boots weren’t quite enough of a hint without your spooky accessories.

“And you’re, what, dead Daisy Duke?” He teased with a gleam in his eyes, chuckling as you shook your head as if on the defensive. You grabbed the bag you brought along with you, pulling out a hockey mask and faux machete, holding them out towards Eddie as if to make a point. He rolled his eyes in realization, his smile making you giddy, “Jason Vorhees? You don’t even like Friday the 13th.”

It took you by surprise that Eddie recalled that little bit of information about you, since it only came up once before during one of your horror movie rants; despite yourself, it made your heart flutter eagerly that he remembered something so trivial.

Pulling the mask on - but pushing it up so that it sat atop your head, exposing your face - you grinned triumphantly, pleased with your outfit and the way that Eddie may or may not have been staring at your legs, “Vorhees is better than Daisy Duke.”

Eddie gave you an amused look before his gaze slowly roved over your body again - sure, he’d seen a lot of your body before, whether he meant to or not, but something about this outfit in particular caught his attention. Maybe it was the fact that it was unlike anything you usually wore, maybe it was the way this shirt drew attention to your cleavage, or maybe it was how damn good your legs looked. His eyes were making you antsy, but soon enough he shook his head with a grin.

“Oh yeah, because adding a mask to the costume makes it totally different.”

“What, don’t tell me you’d prefer Daisy Duke.” You teased flirtatiously back, even taking yourself aback with your bluntness. Eddie gave you some unidentifiable look in response before smirking to himself and pulling away from the curb. As he drove along, gleefully head banging to the metal album blasting through the speakers, you couldn’t help but smile contently, taking the opportunity to assess his outfit more closely.

You had to admit, Eddie looked… kind of hot in this cheesy pirate get-up. Sure, you had already begrudgingly accepted that you always found him hot (and just the thought of it right now made your cheeks warm), but there was something absolutely charming about his costume of choice. His shirt exposed a long expanse of his chest, the bandana was far too attractive tied over his messy hair, and his customary jewelry only seemed to compliment the whole get-up. Eddie was frustratingly hot right now - but he didn’t need to know that.

Arriving at the party took a bit of work, as the entire street in front of the Hunter house was packed full of cars, one after another along the expanse of the entire block. You could hear Eddie grumbling to himself as he slowed the van to a crawl in search of a place to park, trying not to hit your peers as they carelessly crossed the street. A smile teased across your lips, and as if he could tell, Eddie shot you a look from the corner of his eye, which only served to make you laugh.

“Geez, has no one heard of carpooling?” Eddie muttered, finally spotting an open space along the curb just a moment later.

“What, first high school party?” You teased as he struggled to parallel park, getting one more sharp look from him.

Eventually, Eddie figured it out, and the two of you climbed out of the van, the evening breeze causing goosebumps to break out across your skin; you tried to hide your shiver, knowing that complaining would be a moot point once you were inside amidst the cramped gathering of warm bodies. Whether he knew you were cold or not, Eddie nonetheless threw his arm around you, gaze wandering across the faces of other teens as well as the few remaining trick-or-treaters running about.

Appreciating the body warmth, you pressed a little closer into his side; feeling brave, you carefully, experimentally snaked your arm around his middle. The feel of your delicate fingers pressing into the fabric of his shirt drew Eddie’s gaze down to you, but you refrained from meeting his eyes, feeling stupidly nervous over such a small, simple gesture.

The music and noise from the party was seeping outside, the sound greeting you even before you set foot on the Hunters’ front walkway. A scattering of people had spilled out onto the lawn, you and Eddie drawing a couple of eyes, only for them to look away with disinterest a moment later.

And once you’d stepped over the threshold of the front door, the smell of weed hit you like a ton of bricks, the house hazy with smoke, pop music bumping loud enough that you could feel it vibrating in your chest. You had to pull yourself out from under Eddie’s arm just so you could lead him through the packed throngs of people, lightly grabbing his hand as you began to weave and maneuvering with a practiced ease; by now, you’d been to enough parties at the Hunter house that you knew exactly where you were going.

You made a beeline for the kitchen, knowing that the only appropriate way to start your evening was with a round of drinks. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces looked in your direction, some furrowing at Eddie, but most far too focused on having a good time to worry about who was attending the party. You glanced over your shoulder at Eddie, who was looking around the house with a wide-eyed intrigue, as if taken aback by just how big and wild this party already was; it made you smile fondly.

Finally entering the kitchen, it seemed as if the crowd occupying it was already well intoxicated, keeping realm over the drinks and meager party snacks. You had to shove someone aside a little just so you get to the island that was jammed with bottles and cans and red cups, finally taking your hand from Eddie’s so you could pick through your variety of options.

Although you kept picking up bottles and cans, you already knew the punch bowl full of jungle juice was calling your name; sure, that was the most stereotypical thing you could’ve picked at a damn high school party, but it always did a wonderful job of getting you absolutely plastered. You just wanted to see if anything else would possibly catch your attention.

Feeling Eddie lingering just behind you, you took a small step back into his torso so that he could hear you over the cacophonous noise; he dipped his head down, too, just for good measure, “You looking to get trashed, or you taking it slow?”

You studied his features with a faint smile, enjoying the sight of him up close like this. Eddie looked between you and the kitchen island, eyes searching slowly; eventually, he leaned in closer, practically wrapping around you as he reached for a beer sitting in a bowl of half-melted ice. You delighted in the warmth of his body, trying not to shiver as you took a breath of his familiar, enticing scent. Trying to distract yourself, you quickly grabbed a cup and made for the punch bowl.

As you dunked your cup into the mixture of alcohol and juice, Eddie dutifully followed you, cracking open his can of beer as he teased, “So, we have a couple of drinks and then we head out, right?”

Knowing he was still just a step behind, you nudged your shoulder back to bump Eddie in the chest, giving him a taunting look, “Oh, you’re not getting out of this that easily.”

Spinning around to face him, you realized you were trapped between Eddie and the countertop; to hide any trepidation, you took a large swig from your cup, cringing at the diabetic amount of sugar and strange combination of flavors. Eddie laughed with a large smile at the clearly comical look on your face, and was it your imagination, or did he lean in just a little bit closer?

Eddie took a sip of his beer, gaze locked on yours even as he pressed the can to his lips, his eyes alight, “Just don’t leave me alone with anyone boring, alright?”

You smiled back easily, brushing up against him as you squeezed past, “No promises…”

And so began your evening, the both of you finishing off your first round of drinks quickly, leading into you convincing Eddie to take a couple of shots with you. Awaiting the buzz that would come soon enough, you dragged Eddie around the party, teasing that you’d make him dance eventually, which he quickly shot down, insisting that even you couldn’t convince him to dance to the likes of Madonna or Prince.

Despite assuming you’d become totally ostracized from your previous social circles, people were always so much more open once they’d gotten a few drinks in them, and so throughout the night you and Eddie would get caught in conversations - some people, you’d once been close to, others you were barely acquainted with. And the utter confusion on Eddie’s face only encouraged you, as he was fully unprepared for people to actually talk to him like a human being and not the freak they all acted like he was.

Somewhere along the way, Eddie disappeared and quickly reappeared with another round of drinks for you two, this time with a cup of his own rather than a lousy beer - you couldn’t help but smile mischievously, eager to see that he was looking to get drunk alongside you. At another point in the night, someone tried to rope the two of you into trying some heavy drugs, and you aggressively told them to fuck off before dragging Eddie away.

Following much socializing and the drinking, you and Eddie eventually escaped into the backyard to get some air; you nearly tripped into the swimming pool, but luckily he was able to pull you back before you both went in, sharing a laugh at the near-miss. Somehow, you became engaged in a conversation with a bunch of band kids who seemed to feel a little out of place at the party - evidently, one of them had dragged the others along, but they weren’t all that interested in being here. Eddie seemed drawn to this crowd now that he knew they felt just as odd as he did, quickly settling into one of the free chairs in the circle. You settled for sitting on the arm of it rather than dragging another chair over, Eddie having to steady you more than once now that the alcohol was making you sway a little.

As Eddie became absorbed in a conversation about instruments that completely went over your head, you took that opportunity to wander back inside for more drinks upon realizing both you and Eddie were carrying around empty cups. And although you swayed a little once you were back on your feet, you insisted that you didn’t need any help, that Eddie stayed put and continued enjoying the company of the band kids.

Pushing through your peers with your senses dulled, you wondered if Eddie thought you were more drunk than you were, and in turn you wondered if he was drunk, too, and just doing a damn good job of hiding it. And then you realized that you had the same line of thought at the last party the two of you attended together, your neck growing hot at the memory.

Back in the kitchen and making your way towards the punch bowl, someone came up alongside you while saying your name tentatively, prompting you to look over with a furrow of your brow. It was only Janet, dressed in a cute little Wonder Woman costume, but considering that you’d barely spoken a word to each other in recent weeks, you couldn’t help but feel hesitation at her presence.

Nonetheless, you were just drunk enough that you tried to shove that worry aside, giving Janet something of a kind look as you greeted her. The music seemed even louder than it was before, so you two had to duck your heads close together just to hear one another; as if presenting a peace offering, Janet held up a couple shots for the two of you to share.

“You here with Amelia?” You sneered your ex-best friend’s name, but Janet promptly shook her head; you downed your shots in unison.

“She and Duncan left a while ago - I imagine to go egg some houses.” Janet responded with disapproval; she’d never been one for pranks, and so it was always a surprise that she hung out with the likes of you, Amelia, and the rest of your crowd.

“How much do you wanna bet my house is one of their targets?” You asked rhetorically, finding some ease in the presence of your old friend; or maybe it was your inebriation making you less guarded than you’d usually be.

Janet gave you an unsure look, not wanting to say one way or another if she suspected that they’d do that. You refilled both your cup and Eddie’s, which prompted Janet to get a drink of her own; it made you wonder if Janet was hoping to catch you drunk, knowing that you were so much easier to talk to with a bit of alcohol in you.

Biting her lip, Janet looked at you tentatively, “Can we… hang out for a few minutes? Just you and me?”

You wanted to agree, but nonetheless made a suspicious face, “This isn’t a trick, is it?”

Janet’s eyes widened, and she quickly shook her head, growing nervous, “No no no, not a trick, I promise.”

You looked between her eyes for a moment, seeking out a lie; after a moment, you held your pinky out to her with a faint smile on your lips. Janet quickly hooked her pinky with yours, holding your gaze just to ensure that you knew she wasn’t messing with you.

With a decided nod, the two of you settled into the breakfast nook, forced to sit close shoulder-to-shoulder thanks to the table’s other occupants. Once more, you ducked your heads together to hear one another over all the noise.

“I miss you.” Janet admitted as if it would somehow upset you, “Things are different without you; Amelia and Duncan are becoming unbearable.”

“Then ditch them.” You slurred as if the idea was the simplest thing in the world - and for you, it had been. But Janet huffed indecisively.

“I can’t,” You were about to argue, but she continued before you got the chance, “ we graduate in May, I really don’t want to find a new crowd to spend time with till then.”

Your brow furrowed as if the answer was obvious, “If you’re looking for someone to sit with at lunch or whatever, just hang with us.”

The face Janet pulled seemed on the verge of condescending, “No offense, but I’m not going to put myself in that position.”

“None taken.” You took a long swig of your drink, getting a little grumpy over the fact that this seemingly serious conversation was happening now; was a Halloween party really the only time that Janet could make this happen?

Seeing the way your face turned down, Janet quickly added, “You know I won’t fit in with your new friends.”

You shrugged, taking another sip of juice, “I didn’t think so either, but it’s not so bad; Eddie certainly helps.”

Janet’s expression softened, “Yeah, but I don’t have an Eddie.”

‘I don’t either,’ you thought ironically, staring into the contents of your cup for a moment. You could feel Janet’s eyes attempting to read you, studying your features thoughtfully and empathetically.

“You actually really like him, don’t you?” She asked, the question taking you by surprise - did she know that the two of you were lying? You forced yourself to focus, meeting her eyes as if silently asking her to elaborate, “I mean, we all thought maybe you were messing with us at some point, but you’re really into him.”

“Well… yeah.” You answered dumbly, unable to contain a drunken giggle - that was the first time you had actually said so out loud without the guise of D&D to hide behind. If you hadn’t been drinking, you probably would’ve held your tongue. Under Janet’s thoughtful eyes, your cheeks grew hot, and as you considered your ever increasing crush on Eddie, you nearly sighed as you longed to wonder what he actually thought of you, too.

After what felt like an eternity - although that was probably just the alcohol talking - Janet smiled, amused by your evident longing, “You seem… different with him. In a good way, I mean.”

You downed more of your drink with something of a sad smile, but you couldn’t let her know that this relationship wasn’t real, so you hoped she hadn't noticed it. You put on your best look of confidence, “I guess, yeah. Less bitchy, that’s for sure.”

The two of you shared a small laugh, Janet looking away from your eyes, “Well, I didn’t want to put it that way…”

You studied her for a moment, feeling yourself growing a little more dizzy as the alcohol continued to slowly seep in, “Jan… can we do this another time?”

She appeared hurt, and you could’ve kicked yourself for it.

“No, I mean,” you took a breath through your nose, trying to figure out a better way of saying it, “Let’s catch up sober, you know?”

That was something you never would have suggested with a clear head, but admittedly this conversation made you realize that it was nice to have someone outside of Eddie to talk to sometimes. Sure, a couple months ago you thought that Janet was a part of the problem, that she was one of the many factors causing you to want to rip your hair out, and yet, this couple of minutes alone together was refreshing.

Janet’s smile was large and dazzling in response, and she nodded excitedly, “Maybe I’ll call you this weekend?”

You nodded back, and after a short round of farewells, Janet took off to join whoever she may have been here with. You returned to the drinks, refilling your cups before heading back out to find Eddie, hoping he hadn’t been worried over where you were.

Although the party had died down just a little, the place was still loud and the house was still just as crowded as ever. While pushing your way past people, you could feel your drunkenness throughout your body, but compared to previous parties, it seemed manageable enough, though that could change at the drop of a hat.

When you finally stepped back outside again, you were relieved to see Eddie sitting exactly where you left him, still intently focusing on the group of band kids; now, however, they were all passing around a joint, everyone’s energy a little more relaxed than when you left them. All the seats were now occupied as more people joined in on the smoke session, but you were too focused on Eddie to really notice; careful not to trip over yourself and topple into the pool, you went to join them again.

Once Eddie’s eyes found yours, the two of you smiled fondly at one another, your expression probably far too eager compared to his relaxed, stoned face. You couldn’t help but find amusement in it, eager to see how different he may act now that he was crossfaded, although he seemed to be keeping it together.

“Took you long enough.” He teased keenly once you within earshot; you shot him a chaff look before setting the drinks on the table in the middle of everyone, managing to spill one of them a little. As you cursed to yourself, Eddie laughed while studying you for a brief moment, “Did you get drunker?”

Catching the way his words slurred ever so slightly, you gave him a taunting grin with narrowed eyes, “Did you?”

You giggled as if you found your question oh-so amusing, looking around for a moment only to finally realize all the seats were taken. Your lips turned down briefly as your attention fell back towards Eddie, who raised a challenging brow at you; was that expression in regards to your observation, or was he just being goofy? And why was he challenging you, if that’s in fact what his brow was conveying?

With your own decided look, you settled into Eddie’s lap without any warning, feeling the way he tensed in surprise; you were situated so that you could continue to look at his face, drinking in his features slowly as if the others around you were all but forgotten. He stared back at you, eyes a little wide, clearly still taken aback that you made the move to get this close to him. Again, you were struck with the thought that this wouldn’t have happened if you were just a little more sober.

You must have swayed some, because Eddie settled his hand gently on your back to steady you, his eyes locked with yours as if unable to look away; you grinned at him fondly. After a few moments of deep thought and some confusion, he smiled back with a hint of nerves, before allowing his attention to drift back to the conversation that had been going on around you. In the next moment, the joint had made its way back to Eddie, and you both took quick puffs before passing it on.

You tried to follow whatever discussion was happening, but there were enough overlapping voices that after a while you could no longer tell what the subject even was; rather, it seemed that half a dozen conversations were happening all at once, everyone else seamlessly gliding between them. And somewhere amidst it all, you managed to finish both your drink and half of Eddie’s, which he didn’t seem all that interested in finishing now that he was getting high as a kite.

Once the joint had made it back to you a second time and you took a deeper drag, you dropped your head to rest atop Eddie’s shoulder, feeling emboldened by the drinks, the drugs, and the desire for him. You didn’t notice that he was watching you from the corner of his hooded, red eyes, inhaling your scent while simultaneously wondering why you were being so soft and tender with him.

Eddie’s cheek pressed a little to the crown of your head as he teased in a whisper, “Don’t tell me you’re already tired.”

“No.” You insisted, wanting to lift your head so you could look him in the eye, but enjoying the position you were in far too much for that. A thought crossed your mind, and you furrowed your brow at it, “Are you just trying to get out of here?”

Eddie lifted his head, allowing you to meet his dark eyes and become practically hypnotized by them. He shook his head at you simply, to which you grinned, “No… This is nice, actually.”

You leaned in close towards his face with a triumphant look, “I told you this would be fun.”

He smiled back fondly, even as he rolled his eyes at you, “Don’t let it go to your head, princess; you can’t be right all the time.”

“Just most of the time.” You taunted, realizing with confusion that one of your hands was delicately fussing with the fabric of his shirt. When did you start doing that?

Your eyes trailed down the open collar of his shirt, enjoying the sight of his skin; thoughtlessly, your hand traveled up his torso to tease at the hem of the collar, which made Eddie tense yet again. A smirk ghosted across your lips as you met his gaze again flirtatiously.

“What, afraid of touching me?” Your boldness made Eddie blanch in surprise, and from the corner of your eye you spotted the way his free hand clenched into a fist. As if to make a point, you reached for it and set it comfortably atop your thigh before returning your attentive stare to his face.

Finding his voice, Eddie licked his dry lips and responded simply, “You don’t like when people touch you.”

You didn’t miss a beat as you said, “I like when you do.”

Eddie’s heart drummed wildly in his chest; god, he wished you two weren’t crossfaded right now. He knew coming to this party meant repeating shit that happened at the last one, that it would make things even more confusing and overly complicated. Even since homecoming night he’d been nervously wondering what the hell was going on between you two; so many interactions had felt charged with things unsaid, had felt tense with something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

And now this? The way you looked at him as if he were the sun, the way you touched his chest as if you didn’t want to break him? Suddenly, Eddie realized that maybe this shit wasn’t pretend anymore. If he hadn’t been quite so inebriated, he could have kept you at arm's length, could have made sure that nothing was going to happen tonight.

But Eddie wasn’t sober, and neither were you, and he was damn near ready to let just about anything happen between you two.

“Hey, Munson,” Someone urged with a nudge to Eddie’s shoulder, pulling the both of you out of your shared reverie. Eddie blinked a few times to reorient himself before looking at the kid next to him, who held out the nearly finished joint. As if in a slight daze, Eddie took it, eyes drifting back to yours while slowly bringing the joint to his mouth.

You couldn’t help but bite your lip as you watched Eddie through hooded eyes. It was as if everything was in slow motion; the way the joint glowed a beautiful orange as he deeply inhaled, chest rising as he held the smoke in and blindly offered the joint to the person next to him, too wrapped up in the way you were ogling him to pull his eyes away.

The intensity in the way Eddie held your gaze was like a magnet, and really you weren’t sure which of you leaned in first, or if you two had done so in-sync. Your hands trailed up Eddie’s torso, cupping his cheeks tenderly as his fingers squeezed hungrily into your thigh; your noses brushed, still gazing at one another before, finally, no distance was left between you.

Your lips locked in an aching, open-mouthed kiss, Eddie sighing as the smoke slowly rolled from his lungs into yours. Your grip on his face tightened as you became wrapped up in the taste of weed and booze and the smell of his skin, his hands possessively clinging to you as if afraid to let go now that he had you.

As smoke began to trail from your nose, your lips became firm and insistent against Eddie’s, a desperate little sound humming in your throat. A rush of warmth flooded through you and pooled at your center as Eddie held you even tighter, kissing you as if you were the goddamn air he breathed, with a sloppy fervor that made your head spin. His lips were intoxicating, more so than anything you’d consumed all night, and your fingers began to tangle in his hair with a near lustful aggression, to which he moaned lowly into the kiss.

“Jesus, will you two get a room,” Someone in the group commented in a tone that was both disgusted and amused, causing laughter to peel out amongst your peers. You were almost too consumed by Eddie to even notice, but luckily he had enough sense about him to pull his lips from yours with a slight pop, his eyes shooting in the direction of whoever interrupted you.

Catching your breath, you stared at Eddie’s face as if to steady yourself, practically dizzy. Slowly, you looked around the group; some of them were trying to ignore your disgusting display of affection, some were too high to even notice in the first place, though a couple of people stared back at you with varying degrees of interest. The boy that you assumed interrupted you had a bit of a twist to his brow, and so you made a defiant face back at him; Eddie huffed out a slight laugh at it, which drew your lusty eyes back to him.

His stare was so damn dark and intense that it nearly took you aback, eyes practically black with desire; aside from that, you couldn’t quite guess what thoughts and feelings were swirling about his head. You studied his face for a moment, fingers delicately tracing their way back down his cheeks and neck to rest comfortably atop his shoulders; on the small of your back, his hand twitched a little.

Eddie continued to eye you closely, gaze carving a path of complicated desire from your head to your toe as if determined to see each and every bit of you. You were shockingly speechless, unable to even find your words thanks to the nerves in your stomach, mind swirling with weed and alcohol and a conflict of want. When Eddie’s eyes returned to yours yet again, bloodshot and hooded, there was a decided look about them.

“Come on.” He said in a husky voice; you gave a faint nod in response before rising to your feet, swaying a little upon standing. Eddie’s hands quickly grabbed yours to keep you steady, concern flashing across his eyes at how you nearly toppled over; his thumbs brushed the back of your hands in small circles, something so tender that it surprised you.

You tugged on Eddie’s hands, a silent indicator that you were fine and it was his turn to stand. As he rose to his feet, a hint of a devilish smile flashed across his lips, and he spared a quick look around the group; you could see that, even inebriated, he was about to act the showman that he usually was.

“Till next time, ladies and gents.” He said in lieu of a farewell, his tone both suggestive and teasing, as he let you pull him away from the crowd with a giggle.

Making your way back into the house, you barely noticed that the party was slowly beginning to dwindle, barely noticed that the music had gotten a little quieter and the smoky haze wasn’t nearly as thick; your mind was far too preoccupied with Eddie, wanting to drag his lips back to yours as soon as possible.

As Eddie took the lead and began to guide you past other partygoers, you realized you didn’t know what his plan was or where he was taking you; considering that he’d never been to the Hunter house before, you figured he didn’t have a clue either. You held firm to his arm as Eddie led you down a hall, a drunken smirk crossing your lips as he looked back at you with a dark glint in his eyes.

He pushed open an ajar door, pulling you into what must have been an office considering the heavy, rich wooden desk and bookshelves. Closing the door behind you, Eddie didn’t bother with the lights, guiding you blindly until your rear bumped the edge of the desk; he braced his palms on either side of you, pinning you there. His head dipped down close to yours, foreheads practically brushing as he looked between your eyes despite the darkness, once more trying to make sense of something.

From this close, you could make out the curve of Eddie’s lips and the shadowed panes of his face; you bit the inside of your cheek, nervous yet eager, waiting to see what he planned to do or say now that he had you alone. Suddenly, you were feeling a hint more sober, as if the crowd was your safety blanket that had been abruptly taken from you, leaving you to fend for yourself under Eddie's intense stare.

“Why do you keep kissing me?” He asked in a low, almost needy voice that made you shiver, drawing your eyes back to his.

You licked your lips, torn now that you were confronted with the question so blatantly. The moments ticked by slowly as you ran through the endless ways of answering that; as if you could feel Eddie raising an impatient brow at you, you took a deep breath in preparation.

“Because I like to.” You answered oh-so simply, and yet the weight of the words felt heavy as ever between you two. You could hear the sharp breath Eddie took in response, knowing his eyes still bore into yours despite you struggling to make out his face in the dark.

“Why?” It was asked as if he were at odds with himself, as if there was so much more he wanted to say but chose not you.

You dropped your gaze, staring at what you could see of Eddie's chest in the darkness, swallowing nervously; you were so ill-prepared to be having this discussion. Was there something in the air, because this was the second time you were cornered for a serious talk despite it being Halloween night.

Feeling your apprehension, Eddie sighed as if he understood exactly what was going on in your head. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot on your face, and you took a deep inhale at just how close to his lips were to yours; was he taunting you, antagonizing you so that you'd finally explain yourself to him? You sighed at the sensation of his lips needily ghosting against yours, feeling the way he smiled at the sound. Suddenly, you wished that you’d made one more stop in the kitchen - a shot would do wonders for your nerves right about now.

God, the temptation to reach up and kiss him again was insane, despite another part of you wanting to retreat from this entire conversation, far too nervous and worked up. It was as if Eddie could tell you were growing antsy, because he moved in even closer, pinning you against the desk; your breath hitched at the feel of his body practically on top of yours.

“Gonna leave me hanging, princess?” He asked in a low voice. You leaned back a little as if that could somehow create distance between the two of you, but you already knew it was a moot point. Eddie’s arms moved in even closer on either side of you, his knuckles grazing against your hips as he kept you trapped. In a meager effort to bolster yourself, you crossed your arms and tried to raise your chin confidently, despite the wild beating of your heart in your chest; you could just see the glint of light off Eddie’s teeth as he smiled at your nerves.

You finally found your voice, trying to sound brave, “Why do you kiss me back?”

A laugh sounded in Eddie’s throat, as if the answer was blatantly obvious and he didn’t have to say it. He shook his head, eyes shining in the sliver of moonlight as he looked at you; his expression was deathly serious, and yet, you could see a pleased look as he responded, “Because I like to.”

The repeating of your own words made you shiver, warmth pooling in your center as you sharply inhaled. Your arms slacked, falling to your sides, fingertips brushing against Eddie’s forearms. You tried to swallow the nervous lump in your throat as his answer began to feel heavier and heavier the more you thought about it.

Did he just… admit that he felt the same way as you? And did he understand all the implications in your own confession? Or had you not made yourself clear enough, did Eddie misunderstand this as purely a physical thing going on between you two? The overthinking was already driving you mad.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out - you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say, really, because you had about a hundred things already swirling around in your head. Eddie was still so close, his body heat practically enveloping you, his mouth mere inches away, taunting you and enticing you.

Licking your lips, you finally managed to ask in a tone that was both wanting and uneasy, “Then… this isn’t fake?”

You could hear the smile in Eddie’s voice as he whispered, “You tell me, princess.”

You practically shivered again, tempted to drag his lips back to yours hungrily, but your head was still spinning. Every interaction with Eddie up to this point suddenly came under your scrutiny - each and every glance and laugh and brush of your hands, all the time you spent together, all the things said between you.

Suddenly, you wondered if this had ever truthfully been fake, considering that, in a way, you and Eddie had gone through the exact motions anyone would when they started dating. The time spent alone, getting to know one another, sharing secrets with each other, having in-jokes and things only the two of you could laugh at - was that not dating? Hell, even the times you kissed - whether drunken or for show - were never truly false, at least not on your part.

Eddie could feel all your nerves and anxieties spilling out of you, a tension building the longer you considered everything, the longer you hesitated to answer; it was making him apprehensive, too, wondering if maybe he fucked up just now, wondering if this wasn’t the right time or way to admit his feelings. He tried so hard to be confident about it, to make things a little more clear, but why was he starting to feel like he fumbled that?

You laughed smally, unexpectedly, causing Eddie to furrow his brow despite knowing you couldn’t see his face in the dark. Although you were edgy and tense, you tipped your head back a little, knowing that you were but a breath away from Eddie as you laughed airily again as if amused by something. Feeling the question in his energy, you bit the inside of your cheek before speaking again.

“Should’ve known that D&D game was suspicious…” You whispered with good humor, shaking your head as you recalled the way you two had used the safety of your characters to communicate with one another. Eddie, too, chuckled smally, his forehead unintentionally brushing against yours as he looked down.

“I figured you were just playing along.”

“No.” You murmured, faintly shaking your head again. Now that you were already being vulnerable, you plucked up a little more courage, taking a deep breath before asking, “What was that song?”

Eddie’s curls tickled against your skin, “Song?”

You smiled tensely, “The, uh… song from that night in the van.”

Eddie straightened up with surprise, though you instantly assumed you fucked up somehow by asking. Your eyes grew wide, half expecting him to back away from you, hands about ready to reach out and grab him before he could make a retreat. But instead, he chuckled devilishly, turning his face up towards the ceiling as a deep exhale passed between his lips.

“Oh, I knew it.” Eddie seemed to be muttering to himself before trying to find your eyes again in the dark; there was a sudden jittery quality to his energy, a sudden electricity sparking off of him, “I knew you remembered.”

And before you had the chance to answer him, Eddie swooped in, hungrily capturing your lips with his own in a fierce kiss as his body pinned you against the desk. Your heart stuttered wildly, momentarily frozen in surprise before your senses came back to you.

Feverish and needy, you flung your arms tightly around Eddie’s neck, kissing him with all the pent up desire that you’d been harboring for weeks. Your nails scratched at the base of his skull, causing him to moan while tightly winding his arms around your middle, hands firm and greedy against the small of your back. His touch was fucking intoxicating, body warm against yours, lips desperate and zealous; it put your mind in a frenzy, your senses on high as a coil began to tighten in your stomach.

You broke away for a split second, hopping up onto the desk before dragging Eddie’s lips back to yours as if you needed him to breathe, spreading your knees so that he could slot himself between them. He sighed achingly at the way your thighs tightened on either side of him, your ankles hooking around the back of his legs as if to lock him there.

Eddie’s kisses were fierce and full of yearning, fingers digging into your skin as he slipped his tongue past your lips; with an eager moan, you rolled your body against his, hands winding tightly in his hair. You could feel the way his breath hitched, which only encouraged you to grind your hips again, nice and deep and slow; a groan rumbled in his throat at your taunting, hands flexing as if he wanted to touch you everywhere all at once.

God, you wished that you’d pulled your head out of your ass sooner so you could've been kissing Eddie unabashed all this time; you fit together so damn perfectly, bodies melding together and lips locked with matched intensity as if you were made for each other. Your center felt tight and your toes curled, your knees weak and mouth needy as you clung to Eddie as if you planned on never letting go.

Is this how it was supposed to feel - passionate and untamed and ardent, as if you were fucking burning for him? You’d never wanted anything the way that you craved Eddie right now, and this mad desire was making your head spin.

Eddie tried to pull his lips from yours, but you hungrily gave chase, continuing to kiss him even as he smiled and laughed at your desperation; he cupped your cheeks tenderly in his hands just so he could hold you back, gaze attempting to find yours in the dark of the room. You caught your breath together, chests heaving deeply, the sound of the party just on the other side of the door bringing you back to yourself.

Sliding his hands down your neck and arms, Eddie grabbed your wrists and tugged you off the desk, blindly guiding you through the dark. He captured your lips in a sloppy kiss, causing you to laugh as the two of you fumbled about the room until he evidently found what he was searching for - Eddie fell back into a chair and dragged you along with him. You nearly gasped in surprise as you plopped into his lap, readjusting until you were straddling him, all the while refraining from breaking out of the kiss.

Eddie’s hungry moans and wandering hands made you shiver, pressing desperately against his body and kissing him deeply. You rolled your hips rousingly, the twitch of his cock causing a delighted sound to hum in your throat; Eddie’s fingers dug into your waist, holding you tight as he pressed up against you with a hint of trepidation, as if he wasn’t quite sure of himself. You laughed faintly at his uncertainty, swiping your tongue along his lower lip encouragingly as you clung a little tighter to him.

You rutted your hips again, slower and more assertive, practically sighing at the feel of Eddie growing harder beneath you. The desire for him stirred memories of your wet dream, moaning as you felt that coil winding tight again, pressing yourself more firmly against Eddie; he muttered longingly into your lips, words incoherent and broken up by the severity of your kiss.

You pulled away from Eddie’s lips, pressing your forehead to his as you caught your breath and twisted your fingers in his hair. Slowly, you grinded your body against his, each roll of your hips deep and wanton, feeling your desire already growing slick between your legs. The moan that left your mouth was vulgar when Eddie pressed himself up against you, your head tipping back at your body’s eager response.

Eddie’s lips forged a hot trail down your neck, one hand sliding up the back of your shirt while the other squeezed your thigh; it was as if electricity was shooting through you, faintly gasping as his teeth nipped uncertainly against your skin. Emboldened, you began rutting your hips against Eddie’s cock at a tantalizing pace, the friction so damn good even between all these layers of fabric. When he moaned against your neck, it only made you grind a little harder, toes curling as you tugged eagerly at his hair.

Had the weeks of build up really made you this sensitive? You were fully clothed and dry humping, yet already your pussy was clenching, your arousal growing with each breath and kiss and grind as if you were a goddamn virgin. And the way Eddie clung to you, the way he moaned and sighed with such yearning, was making it that much harder to keep it together - his hitched breaths and grabbing hands only encouraged you to chase that insatiable desire of yours.

You impatiently untangled your fingers from Eddie’s hair, fussing with the buttons down the front of your shirt, grumbling a little when you struggled with some of them; you could feel the way he smiled into your kiss with amusement. Once the shirt had been discarded, you excitedly cupped Eddie’s cheeks, kissing him deeply and earnestly, body pressed against his with such pining that one might think you were afraid he’d disappear. His hands were hot against your back, sliding from your shoulder blades down to your waist, his fingertips seemingly memorizing the feel of your skin; when they grazed the sensitive spot on your lower back, you arched into him with a sharp inhale, and so he held you even tighter.

You broke away from Eddie’s lips again, gazing down at him through hooded eyes, finally able to make out his features a little better thanks to the moonlight; he looked back up at you with such awe that your grinding stuttered, taken aback by the way he drank you in. His parted lips were inviting you back in for a kiss, but you were far too enthralled in the sight of him, enjoying the lustful look on his face as you tried to find a deeper rhythm for your hips.

The whispering of your name in Eddie’s mouth made you gasp amorously, his tone low and doting like it was a goddamn prayer. Your hands held firmer on either side of his neck as you tried not to come undone right then and there, so damn easily that it was near maddening. Eddie’s head dropped back against the chair cushion when your grinding became a little more feverish, hands gripping your hips so tight that you thought it may bruise. You pressed your hot center even more salaciously against the thick outline of his cock, the both of you moaning even more shamelessly in unison.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head once you found that perfect angle of your hips, the stimulation against your clit making you gasp more wildly and cling to Eddie more desperately. Your toes began to curl as your back arched, keeping at your erotic rhythm now that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer at near whiplash speed. Eddie, too, tried to match the grinding of his hips to yours, chasing after the mounting pleasure with deep moans and clinging hands, incoherent words of rapture falling past his lips.

“Fuck, wait-- wait--” Eddie abruptly dug his fingers into your skin, holding firm in an attempt to stop the rutting of your hips, to push you away from his cock. You whined indecently at the loss of friction, searching Eddie’s face in the dark with a confused - even a little galled - furrow of your brow. He panted heavily, head still resting back and hands still holding you desperately as he tried to compose himself.

A breathy laugh passed Eddie’s lips before he finally lifted his head to meet your eyes, a hooded look of contentment across his face. The corner of his mouth pulled into a smile as one of his hands trailed up your side, fingers gentle against your neck and jaw as he studied you; your expression was still a little confused and selfish as you took him in.

“You got me way too close,” He said airily, tone amused yet still lustful; he took another deep, grounding breath, “really didn’t want to make a mess of myself at a damn party.”

Eddie laughed again almost as if he was in disbelief, and you couldn’t help but giggle as well, grabbing either side of his face and holding him tenderly. The way he looked up at you with some kind of amazement made you squirm, his unabashed look of awe feeling nearly unwarranted. You licked your lips and swallowed, finding your voice again.

“Let’s go, then.” You answered simply, tone husky with desire; you leaned in a little closer, lips hovering just an inch away from his. Eddie’s fingers flexed against you, his sigh brushing across your cheeks. You pulled him in for one more eager, firm kiss, as if you needed it to hold you over till the two of you were long gone from this Halloween party.

addt. Author's Note | chapter 16, my beloved 😭🖤 We've only got another chapter and epilogue after this, so I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts~

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie

@delilaaahhh @dreamerjj @eddiernunson @em0220 @feralgoblinbabe

@frogtape @fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kellsck

@kthomps914 @littlexdeaths @lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00

@maskofmirrors @mewchiili @miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson

@moonisu @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @ollieolive

@rach5ive @rcailleachcola @sapphire4082 @sassidykassidy @sav12321

@seatbacksandtraytables @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19 @swiftsgirlfriend

@teethvenom @tvseriesobsessed @twihard28 @v1per1ne @welcometohellsock

@whats-my-question @xxsxdghxstxx

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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chellestrash · 1 year ago

Text

Let me handle it.

Frank Castle x F!Reader

summary: After a long day at work you FINALLY get home and Frank decides to offer some help with redirecting your frustrations. warnings: strong language, explicit language, explicit content, pet names, praises, fingering, masturbation, unprotected sex. word count: 3.8k an: Hey heeey, me again...trying to get out of my writers block LIKE ALWAYS! I stg there isnt a fic on this blog that isn't my attempt to try and get back into writing but anyway. This was just something short and sweet I wanted to get out to hopefully get the gears moving again. Let me know what you think! I know the ending feels a bit rushed but I hope its alright. Reblogs and feedback appreciated as always! Hope you'll enjoy! OH and of course, thank you @chelseasdagger for helping with this one and im tagging @lucy-sky cause she requested that!

You push the front door open and sigh loudly at the sight of your apartment. The 8 hours of work felt particularly long today, and you swear at some points you weren't really sure if 5pm was actually going to come after all. The tiredness fills every inch of your body to the point that some parts actually, physically hurt as you get your coat and boots off before making your way over to the living room.

“There she is.”

Frank sits on the big couch in front of the TV, his ‘work’ clothes still on, so you assume it hasn’t been long since he got back as well. He looks better than you feel, though, one leg on the floor, the other propped up on the small coffee table. The TV remote is still in his hands, but you notice how he turns the screen off the second he notes your presence.

Looking up at the sound of his voice, you do your best to smile in response, but the content expression fails to reach your eyes, and you turn your gaze back to the wooden floor before answering.

You mumble a quiet greeting under your nose and walk past the couch, past him and into the small now, thank god, dark bedroom.

Frank frowns, turning his head as he watches you cross the living room and disappear behind the bedroom door. It’s not hard to pick up on the fact that something is clearly off. It’s not like you two cling to each other the second you step through the front door, but he knows something about the way you act today just doesn't feel how it should feel. He grunts, pushing himself up from his spot on the couch, and makes his way over to the bedroom.

Back in the small room, you attempt to get rid of your work clothes as fast as possible, longing for the simple yet unmatched comfort of one of Frank’s basic t shirts. You pick the one laying by the end of the bed, the one you knew he currently slept in, and softly pull the work shirt up and off over your head before ditching your bra too and tossing it off to the side. You can't be bothered to clean it up, not right now, probably not tonight. With the t shirt now on, you sit at the foot of the bed.

A loud sigh exits your body as you attempt to take your pants off, but for some reason, the task proves harder than it would be on any other day. You fight with the fabric for another moment, frantically waving your legs back and forth with no avail before hiding your face in your hands, ready to dig the nails into your flesh with all the pent-up frustration of the week.

“You need help with that?”

You drag your fingers down your face and turn to face him.

Frank stands in the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest as he leans onto the door frame, and you hope he wasn't here long enough to witness your meltdown.

“I don’t… know.”

You admit, the overwhelming frustration wins over the slight embarrassment of the previous moment.

Frank nods before pushing himself away from the door frame. He walks over to the bed without a word, and before you can try to explain yourself, you watch him get down on one knee in front of you with a grunt.

“Alright.”

He mumbles softly, fully kneeling in front of you now. Holding your calf softly in one hand, he pulls the fabric of your pants down your leg before switching to the other one. You watch silently as he gets rid of the clothes for you before tossing them off to the side, to be dealt with at some point during the week.

“That better?”

He asks softly, and you nod, your body relaxing at the sensation of his fingers brushing up and down the back of your calves softly.

“Work?”

He asks carefully, feeling the need to figure out what was wrong, but not wanting you to have to think about it again.

Closing your eyes, you sigh softly and nod once more, confirming his previous suspicion.

“Want me to go out there…make sure this shit is sorted?”

The question makes you chuckle, and you breathe out a quiet laugh as your eyes find his again. He never looked away from you.

“You gonna go beat the shit out of my boss?”

You finally speak up, pushing your fingers through Frank’s short hair, feeling it prickle your skin slightly as you do so. The familiar feeling somehow grounds you in the moment as you feel more present than before.

Frank scoffs at your words, looking off to the side for a second before turning back to face you. That god-damn cocky smile makes you smile back at him almost instantly.

“That what you want?”

He moves his hands up, fingers now brushing over your thighs as he pushes forward slightly, you spread your legs open some more to fit his wide frame between them.

“I mean if you’re offering.”

You joke, and he breathes out through his nose quickly, shaking his head with a semi playful smile.

“Yeah, okay, you got it, kid.”

He mumbles before leaning down to press a kiss onto your thigh. Closing your eyes, you let out a quiet hum, the wet warmth of his lips present on your skin for a long couple of seconds before he finally pulls away.

“How ‘bout I make you feel good? Hmm? That sounds okay?”

His voice rumbles through your body as he moves closer to you and the bed, gently lifting your one leg up and over his shoulder before he does the same with the other one.

“Fuck.”

You start, already feeling how your body begins to react to him, the warmth between your legs slowly growing more prominent.

“You don't understand how much I’d love that right now, I just…”

He stops, stops immediately and waits to hear you out.

“I’m too fucking tired to move, Frankie.”

“Who says you gotta do anythin’?”

The way he answers makes it feel like the most obvious thing in the universe, like how he doesn't understand how you could've thought of it in any other way than him giving you all he can offer.

“Shit, you think I’m gonna make you ride it or something?”

He looks up at you from where he's kneeling by the bed, eyebrows pulled together in a frown, as if he genuinely can not believe you’d think that.

“Think I’m gonna make you get on your knees? Suck me off and tell you you’re doing a good job, hmm? That what you think?”

You laugh, shaking your head, knowing he would never make a situation like this about himself. Yeah, you two enjoyed it when things got rough during sex, and you enjoyed ordering Frank around just as much as he did with you, but you both also understood the timing and feeling of this situation. You knew not everything always worked the same, and so did Frank. “If you did, you’d get a fucking knee to your stomach, you got that?”

You state and Frank scoffs once again.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He nods, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh before helping you slide your legs off his shoulder.

“Alright.”

He starts after pushing himself off the floor.

“Lay down, kid, show me how you want it.”

He gestures to the bed, and you give him a big, bright smile for the first time since getting home from work. Turning your back to him, you climb up to the top of the bed before dropping onto one of the big pillows. With a satisfied groan, you bury your face into the soft fabric and close your eyes for a second before pulling one of your legs up, bending it at the knee. The movement causes the fabric of Frank’s shirt to slowly slide down the slope of your back, exposing both your panties and your ass to the man standing at the foot of the bed.

“Yeah? Like that?"

He asks in that deep, groggy voice, and you nod, rubbing your cheek against the pillow without bothering to open your eyes as you do so.

“Alright.”

He mumbles, and you feel the mattress dip under the weight of his body after a moment. You listen to your body, to its needs and wants, and push your ass out slightly towards him with a quiet, innocent moan.

Frank scoffs loudly, shaking his head as he climbs over you, his arms propped up on either side of your body as he holds himself up above you.

“Thought you were too tired to pull that shit.”

He points out in a teasing manner, and you crack one eye open slowly, the corner of your mouth pulling up into a playful smile.

“Oh no, I’m never too tired to be a pain in the ass to you.”

You mumble, somewhat to him, somewhat into the fabric of the pillow, before he breathes out a small laugh and leans down to press a kiss right on your shoulder. You watch as the muscles in his arm tense when he's pushing himself up again.

“Yeah, okay, you gonna let me do this or do you want to keep being an ass?”

You grin at the word and glance back at him, but he cuts you off before you manage to say anything.

“Don’t, do not fucking answer that.”

You laugh out loud, but the laughter quickly turns into a deep grunt when Frank pushes his hands against your ass. You feel his fingers digging into your body when he squeezes you tight, and you lift your hips up slightly, pushing into his touch.

“Yeaaah, s’what I thought, you like that?”

You hum softly and hope it’s enough of an answer as the firm grip on your body disappears for a second, just to come back a moment later.

“I got you now, kid, s okay."

He grumbles, pushing your legs apart some so he can sit in between them, right behind your ass. Pushing the hem of your shirt up, he gently brushes his fingers over your back. His hands make their way to the sides of your body, fingertips brushing up and down your ribs for a moment, and you let out a loud sigh.

“That’s it, good girl, again.”

You repeat the deep breath in and a calm exhale, allowing him to lead you through this, this one time. Dragging his hands lower and lower down your body, Frank works his fingers over your skin. The firm but gentle sensation of his touch spreads from your back and sides to your ass, then lower onto the back of your thighs and then calves when he reaches his arm behind his back.

“Mmmm, Frankie”

Your hips push up once again when his thumbs dig into the spot right under your ass, and he breathes out a laugh.

“Yeah, okay.”

You don’t have to explain it to him, he knows how to read your body. Slowly dragging his thumb over the fabric of your panties, he slips his four other fingers between your legs, cupping your pussy over your underwear.

You whine quietly, your eyes still closed as he begins to draw small circles against your most sensitive spot, the tension in your body releasing into his touch.

Humming quietly, you snuggle into the pillow, letting yourself fully relax now as the stress of the day leaves with your satisfied hum.

“Yeah? This what you like? Hmm?”

You push yourself back into his hand, leaning harder into his touch as an answer, and Frank tightens his hold onto you in response. The intensity of the sensation rises as he pushes his fingers harder against you.

The tired, but honest smile on your face indicates how good of a job he’s doing. Well, that and the way the fabric of your underwear dampens more as the minutes pass by.

“Frank-“

You mumble out quietly, reaching your hand behind your back and hooking your fingers under the hem of your panties.

His touch disappears immediately as he pulls his hands away from your body, letting you dictate exactly what happens.

He watches you fiddle with the fabric for a moment before you quickly tug it down your thighs and assists once it gets stuck behind your ass.

“Yeah that’s it sweetheart, show me what you want.”

You push your ass up slightly with an inpatient sigh once he slides the fabric down past your ankles and tosses it off to the side.

Once again, his big, warm hands find their way to your back, fingers pressing into your skin as he takes a moment to massage your muscles in your back, and then you feel him push the fabric up higher to tend to your shoulders as well. Feeling the bulge between his legs press into your ass the second he leans down to trace the back of your neck with his lips, you hum satisfied, eyes still closed, lips curled up into a smile.

“Really, Frankie? That much?”

You tease, and he rolls his eyes at your words, shaking his head with a sly smirk still on.

“Yeaaah yeah, shut up.”

He starts before leaning back down, his lips right by your ear this time. His hand pushes down between your legs, touching you directly now, and you know he can feel your body’s response to the whole thing.

“Really, kid? This much?”

You huff out a laugh as a response and reach behind you to wrap your fingers around his wrist and keep his hand in place.

“Not like it's my fault.”

You mumble quietly and hear Frank’s chuckle from behind you.

“Okay, calm down, just tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want to feel good.”

“Yeah?”

You nod.

“Want me to make you feel good, baby?”

Another nod before you feel Frank’s hand push under your body and cup your chest firmly. His thumb brushes over your nipple as his lips brush down your spine, over your back. Feeling your body slow down, you allow yourself to relax properly as the warm, familiar feeling grows stronger between your legs.

He pushes his hand right there again, touching you right where you long for it the most.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum quietly, as his three fingers push between your folds before he starts tracing circles around your clit. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling, your body finally relaxing after the exhausting day. Maybe in some other circumstances your mind would slip. If you were alone, if you tried to distract yourself on your own, your mind would wander, but not now. Not with Frank right there in the bed with you. He made it…difficult to focus on anything else, knew how to keep your mind occupied, how to prevent your thoughts from wandering where you didn't want them to go.

His touch strengthens, and you feel your back arching slightly with a quiet moan slipping past your lips.

“Ah-fuck.”

You grunt the moment his fingers slip inside you.

“Shh shh shh-”

Frank mumbles quietly, pushing them further in with ease thanks to your body’s intense reaction to his generous attempts to help.

“That okay?”

His low, groggy mumbling continues while he pushes his thumb against you, working on your clit as you feel yourself clenching around his thick fingers. Frank grunts loudly, watching your involuntary response to his question.

“Yeaah, s’what I thought.”

“Mmmmm-you’re pushing it.”

You whisper and he scoffs.

“Yeah? Shit, am I- hmm?”

He lowers the tone of his voice to match yours, leaning back down with his lips right by your ear yet again.

“Just tryna make you feel good, baby.”

He reassures you, watching your lips part as you feel the center of his palm push flat against your center, the wet sounds of your body filling the room slowly as he begins to slip his fingers in and out of your body once, twice, and again, again and again.

You hum loudly this time, biting into your lower lip before you angle your lower back up slightly in an attempt to chase the sensation every time he slips his fingers out almost completely.

“Frank-”

You start, but he cuts you off, pressing his thumb harder against your clit.

“Mmm, Frank-”

You repeat yourself with a loud moan before your muscles tense up, and you use the built-up force to push your ass back into him when you feel him slip his three fingers out of your pussy again.

“Ah- Fuck!”

He groans at the unexpected feeling, panting loudly when your ass pushes against the bulge in his pants, and you feel his tight grip on your thighs once you push into him again.

“Shit- okay, okay-”

He does his best to focus once again, and you breathe out a laugh, entertained by the slight shift in the dynamic.

“You okay there, Castle?”

You purr, glancing back to watch the way his eyes focus on your ass, feeling his hips buck up into you slightly.

“Shit-”

Letting go of your thigh, he reaches up, quickly grabbing one of the pillows lying by your head before lifting your hips up a couple inches above the mattress and sliding it right under your body to help with the angle.

“Good?”

He asks, glancing up at you, the big, brown eyes fixed on yours as he awaits your answer for a moment before you nod quickly.

“Couldn't have done it better myself.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he drags his hand down your back, stopping right above your ass.

“Yeah no shit-”

You roll your eyes at his words and rest your head back on the pillow, closing your eyes one more time. The sound of the metal buckle of his belt travels through your entire body, and you feel a slight tingling sensation between your legs. Pushing them apart softly, you earn yourself another

“Oh, fuck-”

From Frank, as he now gets to properly see the fruit of his labor. You lay in front of him, naked from the waist down, your legs spread open, your pussy wet from how he touched you before.

“God damn it, kid-.”

He whispers quietly under his breath.

“You know how perfect you look? Hmm?”

He asks, working his hand under the waistband of his boxers to pull himself out.

“I ever tell you that?”

“Once or twice.”

You tease, answering the question without opening your eyes, arching your back slightly to make sure he gets a good view.

“Ffff-”

You glance back this time, the wet sounds convincing you the view would be worth it, and it is. You watch for a moment as he works his hand over the length of his cock, his lips parted as he pants loudly with every other stroke, his fingers wrapped tightly around his length.

Gradually slowing down the movement, Frank holds onto the base of his cock, lining himself up with your exposed center. You hum softly, and your hips rise off of the mattress the moment you feel the head of his cock between your legs.

“Mhmm, just like that.”

You whisper to encourage him, with a slight note of impatience in the tone of your voice.

“Yeah? So..s that what you want me to do?”

“Frank.”

You warn him, knowing exactly where this is going.

“What if I just-”

He continues.

“Frank, don't you f-”

He cuts you off, pushing his cock in between your folds and your whole body jerks forward at the sudden, unexpected sensation accompanied by a loud moan that slips past your lips.

“Fr- fuck!”

You swear, gripping the bed sheets before pushing your ass back against his cock, feeling it rub over your center, between your folds and nudging at your sensitive clit.

Frank laughs loudly, louder than he should in your opinion, considering this was his–and his only–fault.

“Shiiit kid, didn't mean to get you this bad.”

He attempts to calm your body, his big hand resting on your lower back as he continues to slide his cock in between your folds, teasing your entrance and clit with every single one of your now sped up breaths.

“Frank, this- isn't helping.”

You whine out, listening to your body, desperate to feel him inside now.

“Give- shit, give me a second here, kid, this-”

He pants louder now, his other hand on your ass, spreading you open for a better view.

“I swear to god if you come before I get to feel you, I’m sleeping alone.”

He scoffs loudly, hanging his head low as he stops touching himself.

“That a threat?”

He questions your intentions with that sly smirk on his face, and you prop your chest up slightly.

“Wanna find out?”

You glance back, eyebrow raised.

“Nah, won't risk it.”

He states quietly, his chest rising and falling quickly, his cock hard between your legs.

“You scared of me, Castle?”

You mumble the question out as you lay back down on the big pillow, feeling the head of his cock right at your entrance now.

“Yeah, actually, how did you know?”

“Luck guess.”

“Yeah?”

He continues the conversation, pushing his cock inside you slowly. You let your lips part, fall open as you feel him deeper and deeper inside you. You can feel the way it stretches you open, a familiar feeling you got used to since being with Frank.

“That good? Hmm?”

He asks quietly, leaning slowly over your body as he thrusts into you.

“Mhmmm.”

You hum out a confirmation as the movements continue, you feel your body rocking back and forth with his body, with the bed.

“Good, wouldn't wanna be on your bad side.”

The thrusts grow stronger as he reaches up to hold onto the headboard, grunting loudly as you clench around him.

With his cock buried deep inside you, you manage another response.

“Keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be safe.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The trusting continues for a while after, as he tries to do his best to keep it together long enough for you to feel satisfied. His other hand wraps around your throat at some point, and he lifts your head up slightly. Your breathing speeds up, and you pant loudly through your parted lips as you feel yourself getting closer to the climax.

"Attagirl, you feel it?"

He asked, no cockiness in his voice this time. It's an honest question, he sounded almost concerned.

"Mhm."

Your quiet hum has to work as an answer for now as you grip the bed sheets tighter, feeling his cock nude the underside of your stomach from within you.

"God damn it, kid-"

He mumbles into your shoulder, lips brushing over your skin when he feels your walls clenching around him harder now.

"Frank-"

"Shh shh shh, I got it."

He reassures you, resting your head back onto the mattress before reaching down between your legs.

"You just relax, kid, let me do this for you."

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher fanfiction #jon bernthal #frank castle smut #jon bernthal fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #daredevil

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domesticandlovingmonsters · 6 months ago

Text

Eldridge/Tentacle Monster x F!Reader

Words: 2.9k Themes: Nsfw, tentacles, fictional oviposition Notes: Hi all! I'm still very sick, hence why this story is a little shorter than the others. Hopefully it's still a good morsel of ovi themes. I may circle around to it again and adjust it, or write a whole other story based on ovi to make up for the lack of words. Feedback as always is welcome!!

This was definitely the spot from your dream.

The cave opening matched your memories perfectly. To the circular entrance, draped in vines that dripped with clear water from the waterfall nearby, to the moss that covered every inch of this place.

The hike had been tortuous, to say the least. But seeing this cave made it all worthwhile. You weren’t going mad, after all.

You didn’t understand how you knew this was here. Perhaps some past hike through these old woods came to the surface of your subconscious and reminded you of this splendid place. It was beautiful. How could you have forgotten it? Your steps into the cave felt familiar and comfortable. Your shoes didn’t slip on the uneven path nor did the low hanging ceiling bump against your head as you ventured deeper.

You could hear the gentle trickling of water somewhere further. A soft echo that seemed to call you forward and away from the light of the beautiful day outside. You recalled there was more light inside.

Not that you could remember how there was more light. But the memory of being able to see clearly down here was vivid enough to ease any worries of darkness. Deeper and deeper you went. The afterthought of getting lost down here vanished when you found a path, winding down the treacherous tumbling's of rocks and subterranean flora. You found a stream bounding down a slope of dark rocks. Your fingers idly trailed along the smooth cut stone that acted as stairs towards the heart of this cave. You didn’t slip. Nor did you feel any nervousness when a sound rose up through the music of running water. A whispering murmur that called to you.

Almost there. It seemed to say.

A friend.

Your friend. The one from your dreams that spoke of itself and the sweet home it made for itself down here. Surrounded by soft moss and cool water. Comforted by the comes and goings of eager hikers that walked these trails. Listening to the world's gossip and excitement while happily residing in the depths of the mountain. Unseen and undisturbed.

But it called to you nonetheless. And you came just as you promised; a friend coming to visit a friend. The stream brought you to a wide cavern. With a pool in the center and many small plants circling the crystalline water. The lights you were promised dangled from thin, pale vines that spiderwebbed along the sloped ceiling. Giving the wide cave a gentle blue glow as you stepped towards the water.

You felt parched after such a hike. And the water felt cool against your fingers as you kneeled down beside it and cupped some into your mouth.

It tasted sweet. Almost like honey. And you sighed as the discomfort of your hike started to ease. The murmuring echoed through the cave and you sat yourself on a nearby rock. Slipping off your backpack as you looked out over the pool.

Many eyes watched you, pale and completely pupilless, locked on you from a mound of mossy bark and fern covered limbs.

It was huge. The presence you have felt for so many nights felt like a crushing weight now as your friend started to move closer. The water barely stirred as thick appendages rose from the calm waters and slithered along the ground towards you.

You smiled. Reaching for a tentacle as it coiled along your calf and bathed your warm skin with its cool flesh. You wore shorts today, given the heat of the day, and your friend seemed thrilled with how much skin was currently exposed. The murmuring turned to whispers. Eager with anticipation. You felt a wordless voice enter your mind as the creature walked out of the pool on thick, muscular legs. They looked like trunks of trees, covered in more of that mossy bark like skin. You tilted your head up as a tentacle brushed along your chest, circling your neck for but a second before retreating. Wherever your friend touched, a comforting cooling sensation followed. And after your walk up the side of the mountain it was a very welcoming change.

That presence bloomed in your mind and your smile turned sheepish as a thinner tentacle slipped under your shirt and petted along your bare chest. You felt a curiosity grow through you. Not yours, but theirs.

You couldn’t hide how warmed the smooth, velvety appendage made you feel. One of the thicker tentacles was resting between your legs. Nestling between your thighs as the others gently greeted and stroked you.

And the creature breathed an amused sound into the cave as it felt your hips twitch. And you stifled a groan when you felt the muscle tense against you, causing friction.

Clothes fell to the mossy floor in a messy pile. The tentacles were careful but impatient as they removed each piece of material from your body. Those many eyes drank in every inch of newly exposed skin and a heated kernal of need rose up within you.

You gasped as the vision vanished. A tender tip of the creature’s arms stroked along your cheek, comforting and reassuring. Asking quiet permission as your friend drew back; waiting. You nodded, smiling. That’s why you came here after all. Visiting a friend who needed company more intimately than passing gossipers.

And just like the vision, your clothes fell from your body in fluid, practiced motions. A familiar scene started to open up in front of you as your friend’s arms coiled beneath you and lifted you off the hard stone. They moved you to a more open space in the cave and you were laid down in a nest of soft moss and fern leaves. The glowing vines twisted and knotted between the crags of your bed, illuminating your friend as they settled before you. Their tentacles snaked over the edge of the nest to begin tangling between your limbs.

The thickest of them all wrapped around your calves and gently spread your legs apart. You moaned as the tip of the appendage curled over your waist and slid between your folds. Clear liquid pooled from the tip and your hips pushed up into the rounded end as they started to fondle you. How many nights did you and them fool around in your dream? Exactly like this? Pulled to you by their need and your loneliness, your once uneventful nights were soon full of tangled limbs and visions of pleasure.

You would wake up panting and soaked, both in sweat and with arousal. Lost in the fog of the dream and coming back to reality.

But here, now with your friend as they loomed over you, your legs spread and pushed up around your head as a tentacle prodded and rimmed your hole, you felt a wave of excitement come over you.

Tangling with your heated anticipation as the tip against you pushed and your walls gave entry. It felt like a great relief washed over you as they pushed deeper. The discomfort that has plagued you for days was finally relieved and you went limp against the nest as your body gave an involuntary twitch from the sweetened touch. Your friend must have felt the same because the slow rhythm rubbing along your slit faltered.

Your mind fogged with a layer of desire and joy as more limbs petted down the back of your thighs and started to grope and fondle you. Twisting and touching along your bare chest as your back arched into the tangle of arms.

You gasped, mouth hanging open as your walls were stretched. Their murmuring was gentle and reassuring. A soothing contrast to the waves upon waves of eager anticipation that radiated from them. Then the tip pushed deeper and you felt your walls welcome them. And you accepted the intrusion with a heavy moan.

They shivered above you. You felt the heat of your body burn against their cool skin and they enjoyed it. Loved how your hole so eagerly spread for them and how deep they started to go.

Inch by careful inch, your friend filled you until your eyes squeezed shut and an uncomfortable tension pushed at your stomach. They halted, and a tender touch brushed along your cheek again; reassuring and comforting.

They didn’t mean to push so hard. But your body felt so good, so soft and warm that they wanted to stay there forever.

You relaxed after the thick limb began to pull out. But it was so slow it was torture, your moan lowered into a whine.

They stalled. Those many eyes watching you as you reached down and ran your fingers along their tentacles. Giving attention to the entanglement of limbs that snaked and petted along your waist and chest. You were almost entirely swallowed by them that you could barely move without them allowing you too.

You felt small bumps and ridges slide along your palm. Your fingers were left slimy with the substance that oozed from the tip of their appendages.

Curiously, you brought your fingers to your mouth and gave them a small lick. Just like the pool, the liquid was cool and sweet on your tongue. Like honey. Your friend purred as you stuck two fingers between your lips. And before you could react, a small tentacle wrapped around your wrist and tugged your hand away.

Your lips were immediately filled with another thick tendril and you felt the tip hit the back of your throat.

Your eyes bulged and you gagged as a small drop of the liquid slid down your throat. A worrying whisper tickled your mind. A question, as the limb between your lips started to retreat. You hummed and relaxed your mouth, giving silent permission to continue.

Pleased, your friend pushed further and your eyes watered at the intrusion. But you licked at the velvety underside of the limb. Moaning softly as you tasted that sweet nectar which began to trickle into your mouth. Your friend then started to continue to pull out of you. You whined again but they slowly slid from your hole, leaving only the tip, before slamming back into you with enough force that your body rocked and your eyes widened in surprise. Whatever noise of complaint you tried to voice died very quickly as a pace was established. Rough and fast, feverish almost, as your friend purred above you. Your hips were lifted off the ground, angled in a way that folded you in half and your legs were spread wide and near your shoulders.

Your chest was rubbed and squeezed, your peaked nipples teased by pillowy suction cups on the smallest limbs. Liquid pooling from the coils wrapped around you to ensure there was no restriction to the way they moved.

Your lips were assaulted by the tentacle in your mouth, which coiled and rubbed along your tongue like a cold version of your own. Your friend shifted closer. Entirely enveloping you with their tentacles as they pulled you against their body.

You felt yourself being lifted and pressed against their underside as if they wanted to feel you squirm and writhed against them.

Your eyes closed as you lost yourself to the blinding pleasure. Your walls were stretched and you felt them knock against the deepest part of you, your womb near buckling under the onslaught of thrusts.

The whispering voice transformed into a whining growl that grated your ears. Somehow you knew the harsh sound was your friend’s moaning as they sprawled themselves over the nest. Crushing you against the soft floor as their body started to rut and flood your exposed body with that sweet cooling liquid. You could feel your climax coming forth. Fighting the cool touch of your friend was a racing wildfire beneath your skin, ready to burst when their tip found something sensitive within you. A bundle of nerves that had you thrashing against your cocoon of petting limbs.

Your friend cooed softly and your body was suddenly made empty as the tentacle slid out of you. You cried out. Your frustration was muffled by the thick tongue like limb that you were currently sucking on.

Amusement flooded your thoughts. And a feeling of patience trickled into your hazy mind. You pushed against it, harshly sucking on the tentacle in your mouth as if you could coax your friend to reconsider.

But instead of filling you again, your friend moved so all you could see was their underside. The wrappings of muscled limbs left you. You gasped and licked your lips as the tongue left you as well.

Above you, your friend’s underside was like a shelled belly. Beautiful with intricate brown lines and plates of green; you would have admired them more if your body wasn’t currently screaming at the lack of touch and stimulation. Your friend twitched above you and from a slit between the two back legs, something pushed between the thick shell like plating. As red as candy and thicker than any of the limbs that had previously been buried inside you, your friend’s cock left its protective sheath and started to lower towards your spread thighs.

The head of the length was flared and rounded nubs circled the wide tip. You licked your lips again. Your body clenching in anticipation and worry as the girth tilted, as if flexible like the tentacles before, and brushed over your sensitive clit.

You groaned and spread yourself wider. Even going as far as sliding your hands down to your hole and moving your folds so their cock didn’t tug on anything.

Appreciation melted into your mind and you relaxed against the nest as your friend’s hips dipped lower and the flared head disappeared between your thighs. You felt the cool soft tip press against your entrance and you tried hard not to tense as they started to push into you.

You gasped as your walls were stretched to their limit. Comforting murmurs filled your mind as you squeezed your eyes shut against the discomfort.

But that’s all there was. No pain, just a slight discomfort as your body adjusted to this new girth. You clung to the body that was inches above you. Holding onto your friend as they tenderly thrusted into you.

Their clawed hands tore into the nest as they forced themselves to go slow. The images of their cock ravaging you, filling you with every inch of them to claim you; fluttered through your mind before they were snatched away by their self-control.

Finally, you felt the flared head reach your womb and you were sure you felt the rounded nubs move and press against your walls. Like they were making a barrier against your cervix.

They then started to move. Your back immediately arched as pleasure burst through your center. You cried out, gasping as your body was rocked again and again by your friend’s eager rutting. They could barely move inside you. The locked position of the flared head felt like a knot deep inside you, keeping you both firmly together.

But still your friend desperately chased the pleasure they had to previously pause to properly enter you.

And just as you started to adjust to the heavy sensation in your stomach, your friend shivered above you and the base of their cock bulged as something slid down the long length.

You gasped, watching the egg roll down the thick length and your walls squeezed tightly around the new intrusion. Your friend thrusted harder than before. Pushing the rounded shaft deeper, forcing your walls to spread around it.

Your head rolled back as it popped inside and you groaned disgustingly loud as it settled deep within you. A heavy, warm bubble of liquid that rounded your stomach and jostled with every thrust from your friend.

They growled above you as another egg left them and you grabbed the trunk like leg to brace yourself as the bulging intrusion rested against the first. You reached down and started to rub your untouched clit. Sliding your fingers between your folds, wetting them on the cool liquid that your friend poured from their cock. You felt the hard lump where a third egg was currently flush against your body, begging entrance as your friend purred above you. You circled your clit, rolling your hips in time with your friend’s thrust until pleasure exploded forth. Your climax was what they needed to get the third egg into you. Your spasming walls and jerking hips gave them enough leverage to slide their third egg into your waiting pussy.

The purring increased until it was all you heard. Their cock twitched and you felt some sort of thicker liquid pool from between your legs.

In your blind chase for pleasure, you didn’t realize the stimulation you were giving your friend. And your fall into bliss dragged them down with you, spilling their pleasure into your swollen hole.

They didn’t move from their position above you. Still locked together, your friend murmured sweet whispers into your mind as you both caught your breath.

White hot bliss sparked from your body with every lazy roll of their hips. You couldn’t recall how much time you laid there beneath them. Writhing and moaning, lost in an overstimulated fog of pleasure and bliss. Sometime during this hazy moment, your friend finally pulled out of you. You barely felt the shift between your legs, still snugly swollen with eggs.

You fell asleep not long after that. Finally coaxed into rest by your friend’s nuzzling touches. Their limbs massaged along your arms and stomach, as if soothing you into finally sleeping.

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juletheghoul · 6 months ago

Text

distraction

a/n: I'm as shocked as you probably are with posting a full chapter today, along with a pretty extensive ask on Friday but here we are. I don't know why this character has inspired such devotion and creativity in me but I am not going to question it. This might be the most toxic chapter yet lol and If you aren't into it. no hard feelings! This is un beta-ed, any mistakes are my own. Shout out to @foli-vora for being a light in a pretty rough week, and for listening to all of my rants and tangents. Love you girlie! 🩷Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, gladiatorial violence, exhibitionism, Marcus being a possessive, jealous mess, creampie, heavily leaning into the ownership aspect of their 'relationship', master / slave dynamic (power imbalance), Marcus calls reader Girl, reader calls Marcus Dominus, let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.7k

reblogs are appreciated

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The sun rose, much like it did on every other day, and you rose with it.

With a yawn and a stretch you dressed, cursing at the way your tunic tattered at the seams. You’d have to mend it later, you made a mental note to remember as you rushed to start on your chores for the day.

You found him splashing water from the jug and basin in his room, and moved quickly and quietly to help him dress for the day ahead. Silently he moved throughout the room, letting you adjust his clothes so they looked their best, he let you push his hair into place and to take the basin to be emptied while he made his way to his study. The sun was still high in the sky when the messenger came for him, bringing him the invitation from the Emperor himself to oversee the gladiatorial games in honour of his victory. His brow furrowed at the news, he would be in the pulvinus with the Emperor along with other Romans of proper birth.

He didn’t take the news well, to him it was a folly. He had absolutely no wish to be celebrated, as far as he was concerned, his march into the city had been more than enough but he could not deny the invitation. So with a clench in his jaw and a number of frustrated sighs, he accepted, and set about making the preparations.

The day of the games came and as his constant shadow, you followed to see to his needs and to pour for him. It was difficult to keep the excitement in check, every so often you’d glance down to your new tunic, bright white with details of gold to match your Dominus. Despite your many years of service, none of the people you’d served before had ever brought you to the arena, let alone in the presence of the Emperor, or in such a high seat as the pulvinus. Your march through the city towards the Colosseum was filled with cheers and the screams of people clamoring to see the General of the Roman army up close.

He did his duty, waved and smiled for their benefit despite his great discomfort, and you did your duty as well–kept your head down, and your attention on him.

The pulvinus was blessedly covered by rich fabrics, shielding the esteemed guests and slaves alike from the unforgiving rays of the sun. With his cup full, and his attention with the Emperor, you used the moment of reprieve to take in the sights. The opening games had come and gone and now the main event was to start. The gladiators filed out and took their place, awaiting the words that would set them on their path of violence.

They were a mixed batch of fighters, all of them fearsome in their own way. There was a small, stocky one, his face was all anger and his arms were covered in scars. There was one that towered over them all, his arms and legs long enough to keep anyone from getting too close. There were twins, both of them smiling for the crowd, clearly favoured from the cheers they inspired. There was another, and he was the one that drew your eye. His hair was black as coal with eyes to match and although on the leaner side, the strength in his limbs was obvious. His sword hand flexed at the hilt and you watched him twirl the weapon, test its weight before he looked up to the pulvinus, in truth he reminded you of your Dominus; twenty years younger.

He smiled up in your direction and your stomach twisted, for a moment you imagined your Dominus down in the sand, fighting for the crowd and it thrilled you. You imagined meeting him as a younger man, what he might have been like, what might he think of you?

“Girl.” His voice cut through your musing, his cup outstretched and you stumbled for only a heartbeat, imperceptible to anyone but him. His eyes tracked what had distracted you, and found the young Gladiator smiling still, and said nothing. His mood soured though and at once you chastised yourself for letting the arena distract you.

Marcus introduced the main games, the Primus, and he did so without flair, without embellishment but it mattered not, the people screamed and the men before you fought for their lives against a myriad of challengers. You kept your eye on your Dominus, on his cup but the young gladiator –Varus– kept drawing your attention, he looked so like your General that you idly wondered if he could be his son, could he have fathered him during his younger years? It was known to happen, did he see the resemblance? Did anyone?

Varus is relentless, and despite making sure your Dominus’ needs are met your eyes track him, enraptured. It is difficult to be sure who it is he smiles at when he glances up in your direction, it is most likely the high-born Roman women. His skill is undeniable, and again your thoughts drift to a younger, wilder Marcus, would your general have given you those smiles so brazenly at that age?

“He does like to put on a show does he not?” One of the high born ladies remarks and you cannot help but watch as Varus laughs, cutting down those who challenge him with ease, even as some of his brothers fall. “Look how he smiles, he is of a form today.” They giggle between themselves as he points his sword in tribute towards them, or you, or the Emperor, it is hard to tell.

“He definitely draws the eye.” Marcus speaks, agreeing with them, but you hear his displeasure and when you meet his eyes they are already focused on you. Your stomach drops at the look of displeasure on his face, your momentary lapse had not been taken lightly. Heat and embarrassment fill you to the brim and from then on your eyes find themselves downcast. “More wine, girl.” His tone is colder than you’ve ever heard it, enough to set your nerves alight.

“Yes Dominus.” Your tone, in turn, is demure and humble and you pray to the Gods that you get through the games without embarrassing him further.

Varus and the twins stand victorious, and the crowd loves them for it, enough to shake the ground with their cheers but you keep your head down. With your error, you expected Marcus to excuse himself and make his way home once the games were over but it wasn’t to be. The Emperor had arranged for his guests to exchange words with the victors, and so down into the sand you went, following where your Dominus went on shaky legs.

Up close, Varus was taller than your General, but not by much. He was strong, and lean, and covered in blood and gore, it did nothing to take away from his allure. It didn’t seem to bother him, if anything, it only made him more appealing. The resemblance was there, not as close as you’d imagined but there was something there, in the profile, in the gaze, he was a handsome man, but no one held a candle to Marcus in your eyes.

The Emperor bestowed words of congratulations, and they bowed dutifully. Varus smiled, boldly, unbothered by the ire of your Dominus, his eyes wandered and when they found you they raked over your form unabashedly. He drank in the sight of your thighs through the slit in your tunic, in the curve of your neck and although you had no real interest in this man, you couldn’t help but fidget.

Your Dominus clenched his jaw, but offered his good will all the same, albeit in a curt manner and once the pleasantries were exchanged, you were blessedly away from the arena, and off towards the villa once more. He’s eerily quiet on the trek back home, even for him and although he’s usually quite forgiving despite his gruff exterior, you pray to the Gods that you haven’t offended him past the point of return. His horse whinnies underneath him while you and his personal guard follow behind, and all at once he is off his horse and handing off the reins.

“Come girl, I have business here.” He barely looks at you, but you rush to follow where he leads, down a quiet street away from the chaos of the day. You have to take two steps for every one of his in order to stay close. You take it as a good sign, that he calls on you to attend to him after the business in the pulvinus, and you steel yourself to serve to the best of your ability in whatever possible way he may need. He winds through different alleys and it takes a moment for you to wonder idly just where exactly he needs to go before you find yourself pressed up against the wall.

“Have you grown tired of your Dominus?” His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you up against the wall. Not tight enough to cut off your breath, but tight enough to make you stand on the tips of your toes. His eyes were cold as frost, but there was passion laced through his words as well as rage.

“No Dominus–”

“Do. Not. Lie.” His grip tightened for only a second, “Do you think me blind, girl? I saw the way you watched Varus.” The gladiator's name was a curse and for a moment you frowned at him, was this jealousy?

“Dominus, I could never, I was merely distracted–” You brought your hands up, trying vainly to soothe him with gentle touch but the anger burned hot within him, and he stepped closer, kicking your legs apart to press his knee between them.

“Yes, distracted by him, he caught your eye. Do you desire him?” You felt your heart racing, thumping against his palm at your throat, “Tell me girl, have you forgotten that you belong to me? Do you wish to belong to another?”

“No Dominus! Only you, I–I could not help but notice Varus–” His jaw clenched at the sound of the other man's name upon your tongue. “Because, because he resembled you, Dominus.”

His anger faltered for a moment, but the frown remained, and so you continued.

“He looked so like you Dominus, and I couldn’t help but imagine you at that age, fighting and smiling at me. I do not desire anyone else, I do not wish to belong to anyone else.” You brought your hands up, tentatively placing one upon his at your throat, and the other on his chest.

“Did that excite you? Do you wish me to be younger?” There was a vulnerability in his eyes then, obscured by anger but shining through all the same and had he been anyone else, you might have laughed at the absurdity of his complex.

“It only excited me, to imagine you smiling at me, fighting for me Dominus. I do not wish you to be any other way.” Your hands moved in tandem, one stroking at his arm softly, the other sliding down his chest, towards where his passion grew and pressed against your hip. “Look into my eyes and see the truth in my words, I belong to you, mind, body and soul, only you.” His grip loosened, but he didn’t let go.

“Can you not see how much I desire you? How my heart beats only to the tune of your pleasure?” He isn’t unaffected by your words, you see him drink them down like a fine wine, and he sighs heavily at the feel of your palm on his manhood. “Take me, here and now Dominus, my want for you drips onto my thighs.”

His eyes close and a heavy breath escapes his lips and you see your chance, you see the tiny fracture in his armor. “May I have your mouth Dominus?” You pulled him closer, while guiding his free hand to the Elysian fields between your legs. His fingers slipped under your coverings and found you wet and wanting and all at once his violence is coloured with passion instead of anger.

“You will never belong to another, do you understand me girl?” Frantically he pulls at your tunic, moving it up, and pulling the neck down to bare your breasts to him, uncaring of the people who happen by.

“You are mine, all of you, is mine.” His mouth pressed to yours roughly, stealing the breath out of your lungs. Your hands fumbled at his robes, joining in his madness and releasing his cock. He doesn’t let you touch it however, instead he turns you around and pulls your hips out. You hear him spit into his hand before lining himself up at the mouth of your sex, barely giving you a moment before burying himself to the hilt.

You can’t help but moan and hold onto his arms, the grit of the wall pressed up against your face. His hand wrapped around your throat once more, holding you still while his hips drove forward, filling you over and over without respite, his other hand found your breast and held it tight, fanning the flames of your arousal for him.

“This cunt—“ his mouth pressed against your ear, breathing harshly with the force of his exertion, “is mine, mine alone.” The moan clawed its way out from your throat, that he would be this affected by a simple glance should have scared you, but it didn’t. It only made your arousal flow like seawater.

Your cunt was the altar of his devotion, and his prayers were violent.

“Yes Dominus, yours alone.” You pushed back, turning your face as best you could to look him in the eye and his expression pulled another sound from your throat. He was enraptured, eyes blown black and mouth slack as his hips drilled, bouncing against the plump flesh of your backside. “I want to look at you Dominus, I want your mouth–” He groaned, pulling out quickly to turn you back around and within a breath he had one of your legs wrapped around his hip, his hand holding it at the knee, and his cock buried deep. His other hand held you firm by the throat.

“Tell me girl, tell me you’re mine, only mine.” There was a desperation in his voice that pulled at something within you, something tender despite his brusque movements.

“I’m yours Dominus, I belong to you–” You threaded your fingers into his hair and yanked him close to you, your grip tight and he moaned, unabashedly, “I only ever want to be yours.”

His eyes close before his lips have found yours, and you feel the way his pace stutters, he is close and all at once you need to feel him spill inside, his need to stake his claim burning you up like a fever. You move one hand down to your sex, to the swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, and with the other, you hold his hand to your throat.

“Please Dominus, please fill me with your gift.” You moan the words out, and smile at the way he grinds himself deep with a low groan. The coil in your belly snaps as you feel him spill inside, and your flutters make him hiss, his mouth surging forward to claim yours hard enough to hurt but it matters not. Your heart and cunt are full with him just as it should be.

His breath comes in pants as he removes his hand from your neck, and your breath hitches when he brushes his lips against your skin in silent apology. You know the moment will pass, and that soon, his mood will change and this interlude will end, as all interludes must but you seize the moment anyway, and pull his face up to meet his eyes.

“I speak truth Dominus, my heart fills with joy to be yours.” Softly, you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close, for a moment you are worried that as his blood cools, so does his passion for you but he proves you wrong, and lets you kiss him. More than that, he keeps kissing you as he set your robes to right with gentle hands before pulling out with a hiss. He does not respond, there is no need to, his eyes speak for him.

Within a few heartbeats, the look is gone and his usual mask is back in place.

“Come girl, let us away.”

“Yes Dominus.”

—

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