#i do wonder if i had a night shift job and could go to bed at 8 am. would i sleep 8 hours like a normal person

[zevrans-archive]

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[mashkaroom]

girl why am i so tired. i woke up less than 12 hours ago from 9+ hours of sleep AND i have a few hours before my adderall wears off. litcherally hello???

[bunny-jpeg]

crisp mornings

simon "ghost" riley

tags: smut/pwp, morning sex, age gap (20s/40s), oral sex, cowgirl position, size difference/kink, retired!simon

sun gleamed through the window in the bedroom. despite living in london, you had seen yourself quite a bit of sun. but this fall day only had streaks of light between grey clouds. you rolled over against your lover and pressed your cheek against his hard chest.

the solid mass of him made you feel protected as you snuggled up against him. he huffed and wrapped his tattooed arm around you. he pulled you closer to him and buried his nose in your hair. he exhaled deeply, feeling content as he held you.

"mornin'." he said as he slowly opened his dark eyes, "lights botherin' ya?" he looked towards the window.

you placed your hand on his chest. the little diamond on your wedding ring gleamed in the morning light. you replied, "nothing your cuddles won't fix." then kissed his muscular chest.

simon curled up closer to you and cupped your behind. he snuggled up closer towards his sweet wife. even gave your behind a small squeeze which made you playfully slap his chest. he only chuckled in response, "aw, i thought you liked when i played with your behind." his voice was like honey and it made your body feel hotter.

"i do. now, do you want some morning tea?" then cupped his scarred face for a moment before you tried to get up. but you didn't get far as he pulled you back into bed and kissed you on the mouth.

"could think of something else to have. something much, much better, lovie." he took hold of you tightly, "something to wet the throat." then licked his lips, his tongue grazed across the scar on his lip.

you cupped our older lover's face and looked him in the eyes, you smiled at him, "i think tea and a blow job will get your going." then pulled away. simon wasn't going to say no to that.

simon was used to the rough and tough of life. so to have a cute little missuses bring him tea in the morning was a bit of a shock at first. but now, he had grown to accept it. you wanted to do things for him, just as he did for you.

you were a marriage of equals after all.

but, he did like the sight of his padding out of the bedroom and return soon after with a mug of tea in hand. dressed in simon's shorts, baggy sleeping shorts and fluffy socks that were pulled past your ankles. you looked comfortable, and simon loved it.

he wondered if there were panties under the shorts, the pair you had on last night were over the desk chair at the corner of the room.

"here you go, honey." you smiled at simon who took the cup from you. before you could sit down next to him on the bed, he gentle pushed you down on your knees. you giggled as you put your hands on his thighs, "someone wants it."

"for you? always, i always want you." he said as you moved your hands to the waistband of his sweatpants. he admired you on your knees, he enjoyed the view. you looked good. you could feel his erection through his sweatpants. you pulled it down and you shifted a little on your knees to get more comfortable.

you took his quickly, lips wrapped around his cock as deep as you could take it. he was big in so many ways, broad shoulders, strong neck, large arms and a massive cock. it took years of dating to take him properly in your aching cunt. you took him beautifully now, you knew exactly how to make him feel beyond amazing. you shifted your knees once more and felt the ache in your core. a want for him.

"oh, hell, love. ya feel like heaven. my little slice of paradise. glad i put a ring on you." he combed his rough fingers through your soft hair as you continued to suck him off.

"si..." you said as you pressed your hot cheek against his thick thigh.

"let's get this shirt off of you, love." he said as he pulled the t-shirt off of you, it left you near naked. you then quickly got your shorts off before you got you got your mouth back on his cock.

the throb of want was felt to your core as you orally pleasured him. he held onto your head a little tighter. you looked like a dream on your knees with simon's cock in your mouth. he loved the feeling, felt perfect around his cock. that was why you're the good wife that simon knew you were.

"my good girl, right, angel?" he kissed you on the top of your head. then continued to move your head up and down his cock. he felt the staggering heat in his stomach. made the fire in his blood only grow hotter. you were damn near perfect, electric as you moved your head up and down. he was painfully in love with you, everything about you.

you were his younger wife that he slipped a ring on when you failed your military entrance exam for the fifth time. simon thought you were a better wife than a soldier.

now you were on your knees, giving your husband the wake up he deserved. drool coated your chin as you pleasured him. you felt the curl of want in your soul. the throb was in the back of your head as you continued to move.

"my fuckin' girl, my missues, my cock hungry little thing." he shuddered as he gripped your head a little tigher as he took a sip of his tea. you knew exactly how he liked it. a bit of milk and a little sugar, perfect.

you moaned from his words as you felt the pleasure between your legs. you moaned as you moved faster. the intense heat left your core throbbing, you felt painfully hot with sweat on your skin. you held onto his thick thighs tighter and moaned around his cock.

soon, simon took your mouth off of his cock and you whined. he picked you up with relative ease and got those panties off of you before you seated yours on his cock. he sipped into you with every more ease.

he groaned as he placed a hand on your hips and picked his cup off the nightstand where he put it before he picked you up. he sipped his tea while you rode him. he admired you as he said, "always make it perfect, love." he kissed your collarbone, his lips warmed by the morning drink. you moved yourself against him and he loved the feeling. he felt the emotional high only increased at the feeling of you/

your cute cunt around his cock as you rode him like you had done so many times. you held onto his shoulders while he drank his warm tea. he admired you and you felt sweat along your backside. you looked beautiful to simon, such a sweet little thing. he couldn't get enough, that was his wife.

the only mrs. riley.

he groaned through a tense jaw and you moved faster. he felt his pulse pick up at the sensation of your cunt around him. "my, my, mrs. riley. most probably feel bad for you. seein' my ugly mug every day." but his words were silenced for a moment before you pulled him in for a moment. he had to steady himself so he didn't splash tea all over you.

"enough of that, sir. i just want you, only you. no one else could be my husband." you held his face.

"mmm, you spoil me." he said with a heavy amount of love in his tone, "i'm spoiled by my sweet little wife. fuck, you feel so good. you feel like a dream. all mine." usually a man of so little words, he was often mouthy with you in the bedroom, he allowed his love to spill from his lips.

simon loved you and wanted you to know very clearly his feelings towards you. you still drove him mad,he was so lucky to have you by his side. he sipped his morning cup once more and you quickly moved against him.

poor thing he knew that angle might have left you feeling particularly achy as you straddled his waist. you looked like an angel on top of his cock, you took him so well even with the slight aches and pains. the pleasure still was immense.

he finished his cup and put the cup on the nightstand then started to really worked himself against you. both hands on your soft hips and he worked his cock up against your lovely pussy. he filled it perfectly as you continued to move against him.

"my wife."

"my simon."

the title sounded delicious a sit came off your tongue. it sounded perfect. he was yours and yours only. why would he anyone else when he had you? he didn't get many miracles in life, but you were certainly one of them.

"my pretty wife. can't get enough of you. this pretty cunt of your, they don't make them like you. so good for your husband, so well behaved for me. fuck, my love." he groaned as he thrusted up into you.

you clutched onto him, his praise made you turned on in a way that made you see stars when you closed your eyes. simon simply kissed at any inch of skin he could get his lips on. his lips on you made our heart race as you neared climax. it didn't take much longer before you held onto him tightly and finished.

"si!"

"got you, beautiful. always got you." and you believed him because it was the honest truth. he wrapped those strong arms around you as you continued to try and meet his pace post climax. you felt the excitement all over.

simon was in love with you, his beautiful lover. even with the size different and the age gap. he loved the sight of you. you continued to look like heaven on his hefty cock.

"fuck." he kissed you as he moved you against his cock while you were panting from the heat of climax. he held onto you tightly and moved with you. you could feel the inferno in your gut, the same as him. you brought him to climax with a few more strokes of your hips. you sent him over the edge and he spilled himself inside of you.

you both slowed to a stop after he finished. you stayed in his lap with his cock inside of you. he gave you gentle kisses across your heated skin. eventually you were put into bed with simon. he gave your stomach a good pat and smiled at you. he admired you lovingly for a moment and said, "love, didn't make yourself a cup. let's fix that." then leaned in to give you a soft kiss before he got up to get you a morning cup.

you watched him go, stark naked and scarred. his stomach back o display as he left the bedroom. you remained cuddled up in bed at peace. you'd always be there for your husband, and he would always be there for you <3

[enhard]

⋆˙⟡ monster | lee heeseung

: when two rivals in an entertainment company turned late-night lovers, no strings attached… or is it something else?

pairing: ceo!l.hs x fem!reader

CW: smut, enemies to fwb to lovers trope??, pwp (3 smut scenes omg), hate sex, age gap: heeseung is 29, reader is 24, usage of condoms, riding, oral sex (both receiving), cum eating, some pet names, insults?, lots of profanity lmk if i missed anything

notes: couldn’t stop thinking about this while listening to monster by gaga. crazycrazy

wc: 7.3k words (MDNI)

There was only one thing you hated more than useless things in your timetable. It was the asshole of the whole company, Lee Heeseung. The more conversations you heard his name in, the more you despised his existence.

His ego was so high it could hit a plane, the way he would talk about his compositions made you wanna throw up. He praised himself so much, and you started wondering if he was just a huge narcissist or if we were insecure of his writing skills. Luckily, you never saw him around often as you were really caught up in your own work. Having to compose songs all the time for singers was not an easy task. Your chairman was an even bigger asshole than Heeseung, always giving you all the work. You had to not only compose songs from start to finish, but you also had to edit and mix the voices, help the singers use the right tones and so much more stuff that wasn’t originally included in your job plan.

Usually, you would stay at the office overtime, your eyes darkened with tiredness. It was a miracle you haven’t fallen asleep all this time.

 You looked at the time,

 [01:54 AM]

“Great.” You sigh. Your shift ended at 12 AM. What the fuck are you still doing here? It’s quiet in the whole building, only clicking sounds can be heard from your keyboard. You’re all alone with a few bodyguards left in the company. You groan, your head pounding from the intense light of your pc. All you want now is to get back to your apartment just to greet your cat Juno.  He’s your only best friend in this cursed city of New York, he’s a soft and fluffy black and white cat, with heterochromia eyes, left eye blue and right eye brown. You talk to him all the time, even though he can’t hold conversations he’s the best listener you’ve ever encountered. Better than your ex-boyfriends, that’s for sure.

As the clock reads [02:29], you’re more than ready to go home. You gather all your things, wish a great night to all the security people there and finally get out of that stupid building. You get your car keys out of your bag, driving home in your black i8. When you get home you feed your cat, finally plopping in your bed and falling asleep instantly.

You woke up due to your phone ringing at around 10 am with the hugest headache you’ve had. You palm your forehead, grabbing your phone with your other hand. Your co-worker, Yena, is calling you. You pick up as fast as you can, moaning into the phone due to being exhausted out of your mind.

“Yeah… Yena hey….” You say with half a mouth.

“Hey girl, are you coming to work? Today’s the showcasing, have you forgotten?”

Oh, fucking hell. You totally forgot.

A showcasing happens when all composers need to show the work they did in a few months’ time. You need to turn in all the songs you’ve made in this time, whilst competing with your other co-workers to be the best one, getting the title of the best songwriter of the month. Your company likes making leaderboards, only adding onto your stress of being the best. Of course, last month’s songwriter was Heeseung, but you thought the judges were so biased over him… you knew you could take him down this month.

“Right… I’ll be there soon just let me get ready.” You say, already dreading the idea of getting out of bed.

She hangs up, letting you wash up quickly. You fix up your hair, put on your suit and do a bit of makeup. You get your badge with your name on it and out you are. By the time you arrive at the company you’re already late… the higherups there scolding you for it.

“Please try to make it on time, you know how important this is.”

You sigh. How could they expect you to be there early when you went home at almost 3 AM last night?

“Okay, okay I’m sorry. I’m here now.” You add.

After you come out of your office to get your suitcase that had your files, you bump into the last person you wanted to see there. He throws you a cheeky smile, not even apologizing for giving you a shoulder.

“Oh, if it isn’t the famous miss L/n! Ready to get your dreams crushed by my songs again?” you scoff at him, crossing your arms. “Yeah right, like I’d let a scumbag like you take my title. I don’t have anything to prove to you, stay in your lane.”

He raises his eyebrows at your response, as you would normally walk away if he told you anything. “Oh is it miss complaint now? Let me actually show you how this job is done, im your ceo for a reason.” he suddenly stops smiling to give you a glare.

“You don’t intimidate me Mr. Lee, right on the contrary, you make me want to laugh.” you say and turn around, not wanting to waste your time with such a man. His sleek smile creeps back onto his face as he walks into his own office.

A few minutes later, you get back to the front, everyone already waiting there with their work. You stand next to Yena, holding the tank of papers in hand tightly.

Yena could tell you’re nervous, so she extended one hand up to yours just to squeeze it, calming you down a bit. Your other co-workers were not a threat at all, but Heeseung was the one person you wanted to bring down. You wanted to wipe that stupid smile off his face. After much judging and testing, with recitals and rehearsals for the songs, the judges finally decided the points accorded to the candidates. The others already had way too little points to worry you, but you, Yena and Heeseung were left.

“Choi Yena, 127 points.” She sighed of relief. A sizeable number overall, but now it depends on what you and Heeseung did.

“Lee Heeseung, 140 points.” His eyes widen. There is a chance that you might win. You might take him over… You might take his place. No way, right?

After a good minute of silence, they finally list your points.

“L/n Y/n, 139 points.” You almost fall to your knees. Out of all chances, how could this happen to you?? You close your eyes and cover your ears before you go insane.

You let him win, again.

“Therefore, our winner this month will be Lee Heeseung, the winner of the last 3 months as well, Congratulations!” all you hear is buzzing in your ears. You grow sour of his name, of his voice, his face. You can’t stand his dumb mouth, dumb face, dumb voice. You can’t stand him at all, and you would do anything to see him fired or something. You know that won’t happen and it drives you crazy. Heeseung smiles, taking his prize in hand once again, his portrait remaining on the fame wall. He shakes hands with the judges before taking a good look at you.

You cannot look at him anymore, you just lower your gaze trying not to burst into tears. You worked so hard for this, yet he took away all your hope for a win. You storm out the room, sitting down at your desk to throw your head down on the wooden table.

One point. Seriously. This is ridiculous.

Well, you take a deep breath and continue with your shitty day. At some point in time, you get a knock on your office door. “Come in.” you say as you raise your eyes up to see who it is. “Oh Yena, hey.. sorry for not saying anything earlier…” you bite your lip.

“Don’t consume yourself over it, hey, that dude is a douche, okay? Do not let him get to you. You are better than him anyway.”

“Am I though? I mean… What if he is simply better than me. What if his songs are better than mine? What if his lyrics have more meaning than mine?”

“He is not better than you, and even if he will be proven to be, which I doubt, don’t ever let him know you think that.”

“I can’t be a narcissist just like him, Yena. If I am not as good as someone, I will take the responsibility on my shoulders and admit it.”

“See you’re already better than him, he would never” She laughs. You laugh back, although in your soul goes a fight between your ego and sincerity.

. . .

After the day ends, you finally go home early, not giving two fucks about what they might say or think, it is your right after all. Too bad that you get a message you dreamed of never getting, too bad it happened.

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT

“Good evening, members of the company. We are delighted to announce that tomorrow there will be a collaboration project between each other. The groups are arranged by the organisers, and they follow the lines of:

Now scrolling through all the pages, you search for your name. Oh, what are the chances.

Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n”

Of course this had to happen, it would not have been you if it were not for your amazing luck.

“Oh, suck on it seriously.” You look at your phone in disbelief, while making yourself tea. “Juno can you believe this? This man is going to ruin my image and my life. I can’t stand him anymore I swear I might kill someone if this keeps happening.” Juno meows, probably because he wants a bit of peace, but you still took that as an agreement to what you said. “I know, I know. I guess it will be okay… hope he doesn’t ruin my career for life with this. I do not trust him.”

The next day, you shake your head while getting out of your car, glaring at the tall building with huge windows. You always glare while looking at it, but somehow this time was different. It wasn’t because you hated your job, it was because you had to see your partner. All the people who greeted you in the halls got a cold response, or no response at all. Might have been a shitty thing to do but honestly you weren’t in the mood for anything anymore. You just wanted this day to be over.

When you get into Heeseung’s office, seeing him rummaging through his papers, you just stood in the doorway… waiting for him to finish his work. He raises his head to look at you, his mood getting insignificantly worse when his eyes met yours. Before he gets to sigh, you cut him off.

“The feeling is mutual. I usually try to act nice, but I just cannot stand you no matter how hard I try.” You cross your arms while he goes back to his papers. “Then take a seat.” He responds in the coldest way, only making you furrow your eyebrows at his tone. “Okay damn…” you say under your breath while grabbing a chair to sit in front of his desk.

There are a few moments of silence, but you decide to ask him about the collaboration, same reason you’re here right now.

“Heese-” “It’s Mr. Lee for you.” You clear your throat annoyed. “Mr. Lee, I am only here to ask you about what we must do, can we focus on that?”

“Why would I make a project with someone as bad at writing as you?” he looks up at you again. You bite your cheek, barely being able to stand him anymore. You just look down to your thighs, grasping your palms together anxiously. Yuna told you to never be weak in front of him, but how could you not when he was so right?

“Please refrain from insulting my work and just take the organisations words, they put us together for this, so we need to do it.”

“If I let you work on this, you will just embarrass me in front of thousands of people. How about you just let me handle this? Go home, enjoy your days off. I’ll give you the credit.”

“You cannot just do everything alone; I do not care about days off I just want to work on this too. Please Mr. Lee.”

That is the first time he’s ever heard you say please to him. He hated your presence just as much as you hated his, why must you be at each other’s throats all the time? Simply because of rivalry or did other frustrations arise from both parties?

He licks his lips, finally giving in. “You can work on it with me Y/n. Just don’t disappoint me.”

“I promise I won’t. This matters so much to me.”

You follow him to his studio; he lets you get in first and that is when he locks the door behind you. You both sit down next to each other while you work on the song. He keeps acting weird throughout the recording and editing process, changing poses multiple times in a few minutes, sighing and fidgeting with his fingers. Halfway through the song you place your hand on his while looking at him. “Mr. Lee, are you feeling okay?”

That is when he sighs, snatching his hand away from yours and turning the pc off. He turns to you, keeping his eye contact consistent. “Y/n… i’ve just been feeling frustrated. Just forget it. Let’s focus on the song.”

Now you cannot say that you care about him, but you’re still curious to see what this is about. “Oh, is that so? Frustrated in what kind? Someone like you has feelings?”

He glares at you. “Not in the way you’d think, anyway.” You tilt your head. “But how? Tell me now, i’m curious.” “Maybe you should learn to keep your mouth shut, it’s none of your business.” “Just because you’re my superior does not mean you gotta talk to me like that, bastard.” He clenches his jaw. “Oh, that’s it.” He suddenly grabs onto your neck, pulling you closer. He’s still so gentle but it’s enough force to make you struggle to talk. “Is this what it’s about...? A... are you sexually frustrated…?” You tease. He releases the grasp on your neck and looks down at his hands. “I.. I’m sorry. It’s hard being alone when you’re pushing 30 you know.”

You had no idea what was happening right now, but you definitely enjoyed the attention you got. You were equally as touch starved as he was, and it was making you want more.

“You know, we could do this. But I really don’t like you dude.” You raise your eyebrow at him. He nods. “You don’t make yourself all that approachable either, would you really be down? I mean, just… fuck buddies… nothing else?”

“Mr. Lee, you know we both aren’t ones for relationships. But what’s in it for me?” “Oh, you want payment now?” “Well, you knew I wasn’t gonna give you myself for free, did you?” He laughs. “Fair, then how about I give you a raise?” “Mm… Anything else?” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, okay uhh. A raise and no more staying overtime, you get paid if you leave work early and… free coffee for life.” You ponder a bit. “Alright, I accept.” “Oh, not so quick, you need some rules to you too. For this to work you have to come help me anytime I need you.” “Libido that high, huh?” He shushes you and you giggle.

“Well okay, but if you’re really frustrated right now, shall we start today?” He looks back at you, visibly cringing from you being so direct with him, but he doesn’t mind. “I mean if you’re down.” “I am, but do you have any condoms?” That’s when you see him reaching for his wallet, taking out about 3 condoms out. Your eyes widen a bit, smacking your lips at his professionalism. “Oh, wow you’re ready.” “3 is a bit much…” “Who knows, i’ll end up using all of them and then end up going raw cause we are left with none.” “Yeah, don’t know about that.” “Im messing with you, dumbass.” He rolls his eyes, letting you get on top of his lap. Your lips finally make contact with his, getting to taste him in your mouth, the feeling lingering down to your stomach.

As you begin making out, your hand travels down to his forming bulge, squeezing and massaging it to the best of your abilities. As you’re doing that, he squeezes your ass with his palm, making you flinch from the sudden pressure. You playfully slap his face, pulling away from the kiss a bit. “You’re such a dick.” “I know, wanna feel mine already?” You give him one last kiss before pushing his head back on the chair to kiss his neck, insisting on his prominent adam’s apple. You suck on his sensitive skin, forming hickeys along his whole neck. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re not bad at this.” “I know, but you are.” “Oh shut up, I barely got to do anything.” You sigh, pulling away from his neck. “Let me ride you, m’kay?” “Do whatever you want to me.” He smiles coyly. “Could I kill you?” You pout your lips. “Not until you get your raise.” “Oh, fuck off.”

You start with unbuttoning his pants, not even taking them off before placing your hand on his boxers. You press his dick a bit, his groan appearing right after. “Mhm, that’s what I love hearing.” You nod to yourself. “Right from my mouth?” He teases too. “Oh, you know what I mean, I might need to stuff yours, so you shut up more often.” “Could you stuff it with your pussy?” That keeps you quiet for a bit, his response making you clench around nothing. “… I might, if tape doesn’t work.”

You don’t even take his pants off when you pull his boxers down with his half-hard dick springing out. You grab the base, stroking it a bit to get it as erect as you can. “You’re so big.” You point out. He just smirks, looking at you up and down. You leave his dick alone for a bit just to take your panties off, as you were already wearing a skirt, the embarrassing wet stains on them being visible for Heeseung to see as well. “You got this wet already? And you’re the one saying i’m horny.” “Shut it.” You throw your panties to the other side of the room, finally ripping one condom out the packaging, putting it well onto his dick. After you give him a few more strokes you position yourself on his dick, slowly lowering yourself on his length. It takes you a few good seconds to adjust, then you slowly move your hips back and forth on him. He already throws his head back, the feeling being so familiar yet so distant. Your walls clench around him every time you move on him, the feeling already getting unbearable. You change your routine a bit, starting to bounce instead of grinding, the sound of your thighs touching echoing through the room. You try leaving out as little moans as you can, but it’s still impossible for you, as it feels so good. You leave out small desperate noises as you bounce on him. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” He smiles up at you. You glare again. “Fuck you.” While speeding up. “This.. doesn’t mean anything. I’m just.. helping.. you get rid of a boner.” You say out of breath. “And it’s working, keep going.”

You ride him as well as you can, his swollen tip getting so deep inside you it’s hitting your sweet g-spot. He needed to fuck with someone desperately, the fact that it was you was pure coincidence. Your mouth parts, leaving sounds that only his ears can hear. “Holy shit… I might cum soon… please” you cry, grabbing onto his shoulders with your nails bedded into his skin. He looks up at you, his hand resting against your ass, giving it a few squeezes here and there. “You’re gonna cum for me? Hm? Come on, cum all over me” He whisper shouts, helping you bounce on him faster and faster.

The knot in your stomach quickly snaps, your orgasm washing down over you with a few loud moans. You cum all over his dick, with each thrust forming a white ring at the base of it. “Your pussy so good, Y/n… I can’t take it any…more” he grunts, throwing his head back more with each bounce of yours. “Cum already, come on you’re... doing so well” you encourage him, and he immediately obeys, his semen spilling into his condom, making it fully white by the time you pull away from his lap. He pants and moans before you finally take the condom off his dick, the cum spilling back onto it. You stroke him a few more times, getting your hand messy but that finally makes him lay on the chair more relaxed, his high calming down.

“Damn it you’re good.” He says while smiling, his head thrown backwards. “I know, that’s why I agreed to help you.” You slightly grab onto his neck, giving it a few playful kisses. “Now should I send you back to your work? You’re finished here.” He teases. “Oh right, right. Maybe I should focus on my actual work, rather than this work.” You say, grabbing onto his dick one last time, leaving it alone after wrapping your hand around it.

He grabs your wrist, flicking it away now. He looks up at you while raising his eyebrow. “Get the fuck out of here.” You scoff at him, cleaning yourself up a bit and fixing your clothes back on before turning around to leave. “Suck my pussy.” You say annoyed while heading to the door.

As you open the door you hear a “Might do that too” and that’s when you get out the door, leaving him a middle finger before closing the door behind you.

Heeseung finishes the project for both of you, and you end up winning it together. Of course, he kept reproaching you that you won because of him, and you got into a heated argument that you just stopped talking for weeks. So first he says he’ll do it for you but when you do… he argues that he did all the work?

What an asshole.

After another day of no contact at all, you get passed a flyer at work, so you quickly read it.

“It gives us immense pleasure to invite you to a special gathering in honor of Lee Heeseung & L/n Y/n to celebrate their remarkable achievement of winning the collaboration project contest first place.

Date: [7th of December]

Time: [7 PM to 12 AM]

Venue: HELIX ENTERTAINMENT VENUE & BAR

Dress Code: [Semi-Formal]

We look forward to celebrating this special moment with you.

Warm regards,

HELIX ENTERTAINMENT”

After reading, you immediately put the flyer down on your desk, covering your face with your hands. “I don’t wanna see that man ever again.” You avoided him for a few weeks, how could you meet again now? You sigh to yourself, thinking that it’s just one day, it’ll be over, and you can continue ignoring him again.

On the day of the event, you buy yourself a nice and luxurious royal blue dress, it’s long and it hugs your body so well. It has a pretty big cleavage, but you know you looked attractive in it anyway. You get ready, grab your hand purse, and get to the venue. As you enter the big ballroom you notice Heeseung right away, talking to some higher ups while having one hand in his pocket, and the other in the air, moving it around while talking. He’s wearing a tight black suit on, with a deep v-neck that perfectly shows his collarbone. His hair a dark velvet and slightly gelled. You would be lying if you said he wasn’t attractive. He always wore that dark aura to him, and that pissed you off. It’s like he was pulling you in despite you trying to pull away. Even if you said you hated him, your palms got sweaty when you saw him, your heartbeat got faster and you eyes slightly widened whenever you saw him. It wasn’t because he was your boss, it wasn’t because he could fire you at any moment… there was something else. And he knew it.

You breathe in one last time before going up to them. As soon as Heeseung sees you he can’t stop looking at you. How perfect you look, you elegant you came here yet so sexy. The way your boobs sat in your dress and how they looked at Heeseung first, that’s what he claims anyway. You don’t say anything to each other, you barely dare to make eye contact. But at one point the others leave your conversation, saluting both of you for now... And when you expect it least, he pulls you aside.

“Are you trying to tempt me with those tits?” He whispers. “Excuse me?” You look at him, eyebrows furrowed in a mix of confusion and anger. “I mean, look at you. Who did you come here for? Where are you going after this? Is there anyone else with you?” He launches this set of questions so weirdly, making you cross your arms which makes your boobs squeeze even tighter against each other.

“I’m here alone, Heeseung. I just liked this dress and came here with it. What’s your problem, even if I dressed up for someone?” You look angrily at him. “Because nobody can see… all of this… except for me. You’re my fuck buddy remember?”

“So? I thought friends with benefits meant something else for you. Don’t care what you think about my outfits. Just stop staring weirdo.” You rest your arms alongside your body, before turning to leave. He grabs your wrist, pulling you close to him. “Look, I don’t want to be constantly ignoring you. Can we be just like we were before?” your lips part. “You mean…. hating each other?” he sighs. “You know what I mean. Hating each other but helping each other with things.” You click your tongue. “Oh yeah, speaking of that… you never gave me my raise… or my coffee.”

“What? you can take as much coffee as you want, and I want you to help me with something before I give you the extra money.”

“And what’s that? amaze me.”

“Could you act that you’re my fiancé for tonight?”

You freeze. “Huh?”

“I don’t want you around me, at all. But It’s so annoying when people keep asking why i’m not married at my age.”

“Did you tell them that you’re a bastard? and that’s why you’re single?” you look at him pissed.

“Oh fuck off, just tell me if you want to help me or not.” you contemplate. “Maybe. If I finally get my raise, and some good sex out of you.”

“It’s on then. Let’s go meet some people here, they’re old and rich perverts but they give hella good sponsors. You might wanna cover up. I don’t want them looking at you.” he grabs your waist. “What a coincidence, that sounds like a perfect description of you in a few years.” you roll your eyes, walking with him while struggling to put on your jacket.

“Hello, Mr. Lee, and who is this beautiful lady?” they start right off the bat looking at your body and all, despite covering yourself as well as you can. You feel so uncomfortable with them but Heeseung makes sure to cover you with his body instead. “This is Y/n, my dearest fiancé. She’s a bit shy, so please talk to me instead.” You throw a slight smile while looking at him, his gesture making you really happy.

After you were done with these men, you leave to a more reserved area. “I can’t believe i’m saying this but… thanks for having my back earlier.” “Don’t fret, I saw how uncomfortable you were. Hate you or not, I can’t see you with that expression on your stupid face.”

You take your jacket off while nodding your head. “Wow, what a compliment from you mr. Lee. I acted enough; now can I stop being your dog following you everywhere?”

“Of course, you can leave too if you’re busy.”

“Hey, what about my payment? remember?”

“You want your money now? What do you wanna buy? I’ll give you my card.” He says, pulling out his card to hand it to you. “My pin is 1510. Use however much you want.”

That just stunned you. “W-What no I don’t need to buy anything. Keep your card…” you push it back to him. “I meant… you know.”

“The good sex part?” he says softly.

“Yeah. That.” you say a bit embarrassed now. “Stop making it so awkward, you’re being too quiet for your own good.” you continue.

“Why do you think that? Is my mouth too big to keep quiet?” he smiles. “Obviously, you never seem to shut up but right now you’re eerily quiet.” “I’m just thinking whether I should just eat you out like you deserve or fuck you too on top of that.” His response already gets you hot and bothered, not caring about the people who might be there or might pass you two. You get even closer to him, sliding your hand down his v-neck to touch his pecs and collarbone. “What’s stopping you from doing both? Please Heeseung. It’s my turn to be needy is it not?”

“Of course, it can be your turn whenever. Surprised you’re craving my pleasure when you can’t stand me.” “You’re still fucking hot with this suit on, personality or not.” He smiles, pulling you into a heated kiss, the butterflies rummaging through your stomach. You grab onto his hair, pushing him a little while making out. You pull away after a bit, finally unbuttoning his shirt. You touch him all over his body, barely being able to stop.

“Did you always look this good?” you say, moving your hands on his abdomen. “Were you always this desperate for me?” he smiles, letting you do whatever you want, until he begins undressing you too, sliding that dress off you in a hurry. He slips your bra off taking one tit into his mouth while kneading the other. You let out desperate sounds, wishing he would just eat you out already. His breath hot against your nipple makes your whole body shiver, inevitably making you whine. “Heeseung just suck on my pussy like that please stop teasing me damn it.”

He laughs against your skin, giving your boob one last kiss before pulling away. “Okay, okay, sit down on this couch.” You do, and he gets on his knees to slide your panties off. He makes you spread your legs for him, keeping them apart with his hands. He starts off with small kisses around your core, taking his time enjoying his meal afterall. “This is the second time you’re dripping wet for me, is it a pattern now?” you grab onto his hair to keep him there. “Shut up and just help me get through this.” He listens, starting to eat you out to the best of his ability. Hollowing his cheeks, shaking his head to suck on your folds. He puckers up his lips to kiss you all over, giving it a few sweet licks all over the slit. Once he reaches your clit, he glues his mouth on it, sucking on it leaving the nastiest sounds known to man. While he’s focusing on your clit, he sneaks his fingers to your wet hole, sliding one finger in at first, pounding it into you at a steady rate. You cannot stop moaning loudly, the pleasure being too much for you. He inserts another finger in, curling them inside you, reaching your g-spot easily.

“Oh, right there, Hee. Don’t you dare stop or you’re so dead— oh my fucking god that’s so good.” His hand speeds up, he pulls his mouth away to flick his tongue on your bud faster and faster; matching the rhythm of his fingers. “Fuck!” you cry out. “Heeseung i’m gonna… cum please … keep going.” You lose your mind. He speeds up even more, destroying your pussy with his fingers, actually giving you hope that he’s gonna let you finish. Once you get as close as you’ve ever been, he pulls out and away completely, making your body shake. You groan suddenly opening your eyes in disbelief. “What the fuck..?” you say angrily. “You thought I was just gonna let you cum like that from something so simple?” You glare. “You’re so fucking annoying, I had such a good orgasm forming.”

He caresses your cheek. “Stop pouting, let me make you cum forreal now, okay?” you still look mad, but you grab onto the hem of his pants, pulling them down in one second; his boner is quite visible already. You pull his dick out, stroking it while he gets a condom out his wallet again (Somehow he’s always ready). You keep stroking him, squeezing his tip with your fingers until he leaks precum everywhere. You stop that to pull his boxers down further, letting him put his condom on. He strokes himself a few more times before positioning himself to penetrate you. He slowly pushes his cock in, making slow movements at first, slowly speeding up to fuck you good. “You’re taking it so well, and you feel so good..” You hum, slowly wrapping your legs around him. “That’s amazing… keep going..” you whine, letting him fuck you til you lose your mind.

He slightly moans at every thrust, managing to get deeper and deeper with every thrust. You feel him so deep inside, hitting your g-spot again with his swollen tip. The sudden zap makes you grab onto his biceps with your hands, digging your nails into his skin while moaning louder. “Mhm…. That’s the spot. Don’t stop please…” He finally listens to your pleads, pounding into your sweet spot over and over as you leave red scratches all over his arms. Your hands move up to his upper back, scratching him like a wild cat. He hisses multiple times at the pain, but he lets you react this way just to see all your reactions to him destroying you once again. You tighten around him as you’re about to cum.

“Hee...please let me cum... plea—oh that feels so good please…” you say as you start crying, small tears running down your cheeks shutting your eyes forcefully. “Who’s crying on my cock now? You love getting fucked like this don’t you slut?” he says while speeding up even more, making you squirt on him on the spot. His words buzz in your ear over and over while you lose your mind completely. Your legs shake on his lower back, getting his dick wet with your squirt. “You’re so messy when you cum.” He groans, getting close to his release too. “Oh fuck you… you know you like it… cum already…. come on.” A few more thrusts in and he pulls out to take his condom off his dick. He gives himself a few more strokes before releasing strings of cum all over your stomach. He holds onto your thigh with his other hand while continuing to stroke himself. You look down to your stomach just to see, biting your lip at the scenery. “That’s a new one… you look damn hot doing it.” He slightly smiles at you. “Figured we’d both get messy.” You both quickly clean up the best you can, trying not to get caught by anyone despite how loud you both were the entire time.

“Is this the good sex you were talking about?” he says in a sly manner. “Obviously, if that even means something to you. If there’s one good thing about you it might just be that dick.” You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my, should I feel honored?” he says sarcastically.

You both get out of there, having no intention of staying after what both just did. He gives you the rest of the evening off and gives you your very awaited raise. He was generous with his numbers, that good time really helped. might despise you, or that’s what you think, but he took that raise seriously and you couldn’t stop smiling at your bank balance.

A few days later, you get a text at work from none other than Heeseung. You never gave him your number, so it was a surprise.

“hey y/n”

“Who is this?”

“the guy you fucked 2 days ago”

“ugh what do u want”

“i’m your boss, don’t text me that way”

“whatever, why are u texting me and where did u get my number”

“yena, i just wanted to give you some extra work today”

[1 attachment]

The photo he sent shows his lower body sitting on a chair with his legs slightly manspreading, a thick bulge layering on his dark grey pants while his left hand is gripping the said bulge. Multiple veins are seen branching down from his hand to his arm.

The moment you saw the picture your eyes scattered throughout the pixels in your phone without being able to stop. The photo he took was so damn attractive to you for no specific reason but the way his hand looked, the way you just knew that bulge in his pants was throbbing, begging to get out the tight bottom wear. Still, you decided to be a little cold to him as you always were.

“oh why should i help u? i already got my raise”

“do u want this to be your only one?”

You leave him on seen for a minute or two.

“where r u”

“in my office, tell my bodyguard i called you in here”

“🖕”

You get up, fixing your makeup a little before leaving your office to get to his. After you close the door behind you, you both have a moment of intense eye contact, just to break it off by looking down. “You got here fast. Missed me that much?” you smack your lips. “It’s not like you threatened me or anything.” He laughs softly. “You know you missed me already. Did you touch yourself to the picture I sent, too?” He slowly walks towards you.

“What? No. You’re not all that Heeseung. Your mouth moves too much though.”

“Oh yeah? Then let's see what yours can do.”

He grabs your chin, pulling it up so you can only look into his eyes. There are a few seconds of silence where your heart skips a beat… then in his lowest tone you hear him say...

“Get on your knees.”

He releases the grasp on your chin, letting you lower yourself, finally making eye contact with his bulge. “Aren’t we gonna get caught here?” He shakes his head. “No one can enter without my permission. No one can leave either, like you here.” He smiles. You squeeze your legs together at his words while sliding his pants and boxers off in one move. His hardened cock springs out, bouncing off his navel. You start with small pecks to his red tip, slowly moving down to his entire length. He looks down at you, admiring your sweet moves to bring him pleasure. “You’re adorable like this, did you know?” he chuckles. “Eat a dick.” He slaps your cheek. “Too bad you’re eating mine right now.” You glare up at him before taking his tip in your mouth, stroking him with your hand. You have your other hand resting on his right knee, as you bop your head back and forth little by little. He smiles at you, grabbing your hair into a ponytail just to keep your head in place and to be able to fuck your mouth a bit.

You unwrap your hand from around him cock, letting him completely take control, going at his desired pace. He moans at the feeling, throwing his head back for a second. “Fuck yeah... I see this mouth is better at doing things other than complaining all the time.” His thrusts are making you slightly choke on his dick, getting harder and harder to breathe. You grab onto his thighs, trying to at least make him slow down, but to no avail. It feels too good for him to stop now, your mouth wrapped so tight around his dick; sending him waves of bliss with each thrust. After a good while he pulls away, letting you breathe again. “I fucking hate you.” You say, looking up at him. “Don’t talk to your superior that way, brat.” He grabs the base of his cock, slapping the tip onto your lips multiple times.

You take him in your mouth again, bopping your head up and down faster than before. You try using your tongue against as well, caressing the sensitive spot between his tip and length with the tip of your tongue.

“That feels so good. Don’t pull away.” He whispers. You leave little hums to confirm that you won’t, letting him get closer to his release with those emitted vibrations. After a few more sloppy bops, he moans like hell, grabbing onto the back of your head to push you deeper onto him. “Y/n i’m— gonna cum… hold on…” he moans out, his eyes closed shut. You keep going, wanting him to cum right in your mouth. “Mmm…hmm.” Is all you can let out, before he cums deep in your throat, automatically swallowing all of it. He leaves out a small groan, pulling out your mouth after he’s done. A string of saliva links his tip and your tongue as he pulls away further.

“Good girl. You swallowed all of it.” You give him a little smile, standing up while wiping your mouth. “Might’ve been the best i’ve ever had, come here.” He says, grabbing your waist with his arms. He leans in to give you a genuine kiss, not a lustful one, definitely not. He keeps you in that deep kiss for a while, pulling away only to pull you in again. “Where... is this … coming from?” you chuckle a little, asking between kisses. “I don’t think… I can stand… completely hating… you anymore…” your eyes widen a bit. “Was my mouth that good?” you say jokingly, and he shakes his head. “Not just that, not just sex. You have a crazy charm to you, I don’t know if you can feel it.”

“That’s crazy coming from you Lee Heeseung.”

“I want you in my life Y/n, you can be mad all you want but it doesn’t change things between us.”

“You’ve already been in mine way too long.” You smile.

“Exactly, I want you to be so sick of me, no medicine would be able to treat you.”

“I guess we can make it work… you’re crazy hot, still might need to tape that mouth though.”

“Is that a secret kink?” He laughs.

“Oh, shut up.” You push him slightly. You can’t lie, being his girlfriend now was tempting, no matter how much you tried to hate him, he attracted you more and more without even realising. Every time he was in your presence your subconscious was happy to see him. Your mind played tricks on you, and you hated how much you adored him.

Dating Lee Heeseung, your boss, was one of the best decisions of your life. Turns out he’s sweeter than it seems, he would give his life for you, and you would too. You didn’t need anyone else, only your soulmate and your cat. You ended up moving in together, always cooking dinner together, going on vacations together and just enjoying eachother’s presence. He was such a sweet guy, something you never expected to see from such a man. Yena definitely judged you when she first found out about your new relationship, but quickly came along with the idea. Thing is, Heeseung acted this way with others but he was so sweet with you. He only loved you. His sparkly bambi eyes always stare at you with such admiration when you walk in the room. He can’t stop admiring you all the time.

I guess he wasn’t that bad after all.

———————————————————————

a/n: thank you so much for reading this!! I spent a few days on it and it was definitely experimental. reblogging/liking would be very much appreciated < 3

[hairmetal666]

They're sitting in Eddie's bedroom, Steve propped up in the bed, flipping through some sports magazine, Eddie curled on the floor using his knee as a table as he scrawls notes for Hellfire's next campaign. Metallica spins on the record player, volume low. They're doing this more and more, being together and doing their own thing, music a soft backdrop to it all.

Eddie's deep into his planning, enough so that he manages to forget that Steve Harrington is in his bed. He keeps hearing something, though. It just manages to catch at the edge of his awareness, but when he fully tunes in the only sounds are Steve flipping a page, Ride the Lightning, the shift of blankets as Harrington taps his fingers. It happens a few more times, but when he tries to catch it, it's gone. Steve hasn't reacted at all, to the point Eddie wonders if it's all in his own head.

The next time, he's interrupted before he even gets back into it, that noise again, but this time, now, he's aware enough to see that it's Steve. And he's not, like, reading the magazine out loud to himself. No. He's singing along.

To Metallica.

And he wasn't idly tapping his fingers before. He was tapping along to the beat.

"You're singing along?" He asks before he can stop himself.

Steve looks up, a faint smile on his handsome face. "It's not too bad."

"Not too--Not too bad." Eddie's nearly screeching. Can't wrap his mind around Steve--"You've been listening to Metallica on your own? You've been--you--" He jumps to his feet, notebook spilling onto the floor. Steve's just looking up at him with big eyes and a gentle grin.

"Sure, Munson. You like it, yeah?"

He nods, mutely, unsure how he so thoroughly lost the plot that Steve's been listening to Metallica just because Eddie likes it.

"Got a taste for any other metal bands I should know about, Harrington?" He flops down on the bed, making Steve bounce a little.

"Well, Dio's pretty okay."

This time Eddie does really, actually shriek.

---

Eddie swans into the kitchen to greet Steve, who's already lounging on the couch with a beer. There's another one on the coffee table, waiting for Eddie.

"Just helped yourself, Harrington?" He teases.

Steve shoots him a look. "Wayne grabbed them before he left. What the hell took you so long?"

He can't say it's because he wanted to look nice with Steve coming over, even if they are just getting high and watching movies. Of course taming his hair took so long that he didn't have time to find a shirt, and Steve's knock at the door had him grabbing the first thing he could and jamming it over his head.

"You want chips?" He asks.

"Wait--Eddie--" Steve stands, pointing at Eddie's chest.

"What?"

"That's my--oh my god, I've been looking for that."

And, well, he had thought it was a little strange that the t-shirt he grabbed was gray. He pulls at the fabric, stares at the upside down Hawkins Tiger with a basketball in its mouth.

"It's my favorite sleep shirt. I thought Robin took it and you--"

Eddie's face heats. Steve's shirt. Of course. Steve stayed over one movie night, forgot the shirt, and Eddie. Well. He was going to give it back, but--

"Here, man, my bad." He goes to pull the hem over his head. "I didn't know it was your favorite."

"Nah," Steve says. He's sitting back on the couch. "You should keep it. You look really--" he pauses and takes a sip of beer. "It's nice on you, Munson."

He's sure his blush is a horrendous thing to witness, has to fight the urge to hide in his hands. "Right. Uh. Chips!" He whirls towards the cabinets, refusing to think about the matching pink stripes across Steve's cheeks.

---

"C'mon, Munson, you're hogging the covers." Steve's sleepy mumble cuts through the dawn quiet.

"Mmph," Eddie groans. Rubs the soles of his feet against Steve's shins.

"You're a dick," Steve grumbles. He shimmies closer, which is what finally does the job at fully waking Eddie.

"Wha--huh?" He blinks.

"You stole the blankets, man. If you're not going to share, the least you can do is cuddle."

"Uhh." Eddie is sure he's dreaming, but Steve's warm, strong arm slips around his waist, pulls them together.

Eddie doesn't know what to do. Where he should put his body. Does he relax into it? What do his arms do? They're not usually this rigid, right? But what do they do when he's sleeping? Somewhere in his gay panic, he has the presence of mind to grab the edge of the blanket and throw it over his friend.

"Better?" He asks. His voice is all wrong but maybe Steve will attribute it to tiredness.

"Mmm." Steve's grip tightens around his waist, his nose nuzzling against the nape of Eddie's neck. His breathing is already slow and deep.

Eddie can't imagine sleep finding him anytime soon. Not when Steve, his crush, his best friend, is holding him like this. Not when he now knows what the real thing would be like. Not when it's so impossibly out of his grasp.

---

Steve and Wayne are watching a Cub's game. Eddie's curled up on the couch between them, trying to work on a sketch, but his brain keeps skipping to a song he's writing. The lyrics have been easy, coming to him like nothing, but the melody...he wants it to be heavy, loud, wanting, but it won't fit.

He glances up at Steve, chatting with Wayne about some baseball thing called a ribee. His hair's not done, flopping softly around his forehead, and he's wearing his result-of-too-many-concussions glasses, the yellow sweater from that horrific boat ride, retrieved by one of the kids and painstakingly washed by Karen Wheeler.

Steve looks sweet, soft, relaxed. He laughs at something Wayne says, and Eddie's a lost cause. He's just fucking smiling at the pretty boy on his couch, hanging out with his uncle, too far gone to be able to fight it.

A melody forms in his head, and it's soft. Not sweet, no, but gentle. Almost tender. Nothing like he imagined.

---

It's early, early enough that Wayne's not home yet, but he got tired of trying to sleep. Didn't want to bother Steve, who still softly snored in Eddie's bedroom. So, he grabs his acoustic and his notebook, goes out to the couch to work on the song. It's coming along, really good, one of his best. He hasn't shared it with the guys yet. It's--he's not ready, lays him too bare.

There's a clatter from the kitchen, Steve's voice, deep and sleep rough, says, "Hey, Munson."

He pushes the guitar and notebook aside. "Did I wake you? I was trying to be quiet, I'll--"

Steve shakes his head, pads into the living room. He's wearing the yellow sweater, a pair of Eddie's sweatpants, bedhead rampant. He curls up next to Eddie, pulling the couch afghan over his feet. "What're you working on?"

Eddie's ears get hot. "Nothing much. New song I've been noodling on."

"Cool." Steve's smile is little and fond. "Play it for me?"

"Ahh," Eddie says. His hand twitches around the neck of the guitar. "Not sure if it's quite ready for that."

"Oh, yeah." Steve nods. His face does something weird and squiggly that Eddie's never seen. "Just never heard you play before. Thought now might be...you know."

Eddie swallows, hard. "Well, maybe we'll get a show up at the Hideout soon."

"Of course. It's just--this is just you."

He blinks at Steve for a few long seconds, can't believe he's about to do this, but--It's not like Steve will know it's about him, anyway. "It's not a full song yet, alright? Just a verse and half of a chorus, so like. Don't judge it too hard."

"I would never." He can sense Steve's smile but can't look directly at it, knows it would kill him.

He situates the guitar, spins the notebook to read the lyrics like they aren't already burned into his brain, starts to play. His fingers are deft and sure, his voice a little rough, a little raspy with nerves.

The song ends and he's afraid to look at Steve, to see the thoughts written plane on his face. The silence extends, though, and he asks. "So, what did you think?"

"It's--that wasn't what I expected." Steve's voice is weird. Wobbly. Eddie chances half a glance at him, but can't make anything definitive out from his expression. "I didn't think--that's not the kind of music I thought you made."

He licks his lips, swallows. Puts his guitar down. "It's not usually."

"It was a love song." Steve says. His eyes burn into Eddie's.

He can't say anything for seconds that seem to span minutes. "Yeah, Steve," he says in a voice cut with gravel. "It's a love song."

"Eddie," Steve whispers. He reaches out then, thumb tracing along Eddie's jaw, the scars that linger there from the bats. "Is this okay?" He can only nod as Steve's hand twines through his curls.

He's shaking, just a little bit, not because he's inexperienced but because this is Steve, because it's happening, because their lips are meeting and a trembling noise falls from his mouth at the sweet way Steve kisses him.

It's gentle and quick, but they don't part when the kiss ends, stay sharing air as their foreheads rest together. Eddie can't stop smiling.

"Please tell me I'm not dreaming, Stevie" he whispers.

"You dream about me?" Steve asks, eyes blazing.

"I wrote a song about you, and you think dreams are a reach?"

Steve laughs, brushes a kiss against the tip of Eddie's nose. "I loved the song."

"Yeah?"

"Can't wait to hear the whole thing."

"Well, stick around for a while."

Steve leans in, kisses him again, longer this time. "Just try to get rid of me, Munson."

[incognit0slut]

BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman? 

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?" 

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek.  The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open.  He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake,  his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..." 

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

Losing Sleep - Ticci Toby x Female reader NSFW

Warnings: Somnophilia (so therefore noncon)

Tags: Stalker! Toby, Obsessive behavior, Extremely dubious consent, fingering, creampie

As I always say with my creepypasta fics: all canon will be flexible to make way for sexy

Hey guys so I’m used to posting on AO3 but I think I’m gonna start cross posting some fics here and doing headcanons and whatnot :3

Toby was obsessed.

Even saying that was just an understatement though. Having slipped into your room as he had many times before in the night, he was able to admire you yet again.

Truthfully, he was lucky you were so oblivious. He wasn’t exactly subtle in his ways of stalking you. You were way too busy, always caught up in your thoughts. Too distracted to ever notice small things shifting in your room. Too scatterbrained to notice pairs of your underwear going missing. Too occupied daydreaming to feel his eyes on you as he followed you home or watched you in your daily life.

However, Toby’s favorite thing about you was how heavy of a sleeper you were. I mean, he could practically get away with murder in here and you’d still be lying there peacefully, blissfully unaware of his presence.

He crouched down by your bed, only a few inches away from your face. His hand gently brushed against your cheek, feeling your soft skin. A rush of sick giddy joy ran through him, and he had to pull away quickly, his neck jerking to the side.

It was always so hard to keep his tics under control when he was around you, maybe it was a sign of how much he loved you. It was moments like this that got him even more frenetic. The thrill of trying to keep himself under control, inevitably making some noise and waiting to see if you would wake up.

You never did, but he imagined what would happen if you were to. The fear in your eyes that would be there initially. The adrenaline that would be running through his and your veins.

But then you’d understand that he only did all of this because he loves you so much. Because he needs you so much.

He knew you’d understand because you were so kind. That time when he first saw you, working at your part time job. You were so bright and bubbly. You met his eyes when you checked him out, making conversation and smiling instead of looking down and staying quiet like other people did.

It was from that day that he dedicated himself to you. One day, you’d be his.

His eyes gazed over your sleeping form. He started thinking about the ways he’d touch you, imagining the sounds you would make. How excited you’d get and how you’d beg him for more.

He could picture your body on top of his, bouncing as best as you can on his cock. He could hear you whimpering and begging him to take over, to fuck you better than you could ever try to fuck yourself on his cock.

He felt his jeans tighten and his cock throb, getting painfully hard at his own fantasies. That was his signal that it was time to grab a pair of your panties and slip out.

He slowly opened your closet, pulling out your hamper to look for a freshly used pair of underwear, until a noise from you caught his attention. Had you woken up? There was no way.

He looked back over at your bed, your body was shifting a bit under the blanket. Another small noise escaped you. It sounded… almost like moan.

It couldn’t be what he thought it was. How did he get this lucky? He slowly crept over to your bed, lightly lifting your blanket off of you.

He was met with many wonderful realizations. The first being, you only slept in your underwear and a loose t-shirt. The second, you slept with a pillow between your legs. The third and best of all, you were rutting your hips against the pillow, another small moan coming from your lips.

For a moment, he just stood and watched you in awe. The tiny movements of your hips, the way your lacy panties clung to them, the sounds you were making, all things that were driving him crazy.

How pitiful.

You were obviously having a nice dream. The way you were lightly rutting your hips, desperate for some friction. The pillow didn’t seem to be giving you what you needed.

It would be cruel, honestly, to just leave you here and not help you out. You were obviously aching to come.

He gently turned you onto your back, pulling the pillow out from between your legs, careful to not wake you up. Even in the lowlight he could see how wet you were, the fabric just between your legs was soaked.

He gently ran his hand along your cheek, drifting down to lightly brush against your neck. Your body shivered and he hoped it wasn’t because his hands were cold, not that he could tell if they were. But the way you moved towards his touch told him it was because your body was responding to him.

He had to calm himself down. Just the thought of truly touching you was already making him go feral and he wasn’t sure he wanted you to wake up. The timing wasn’t right.

He hooked his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your soft legs. He considered putting them in his pocket for later but given the situation he probably wouldn’t need them.

He bit his lip, slipping his hand between your thighs and pushing them apart. Your arousal glistened in the moonlight. His fingers lightly brushed over your clit and another small whine escaped you. It was like you were begging for him.

Once you had given him a little taste, there was no way he could stop himself now. He was already becoming addicted to touching you. He ran his finger up your slit, groaning softly when your wetness collected on his finger.

Another shaky breath escaped him as he pushed a finger into you, slipping in easily without any resistance. You moaned softly again, your hips bucking ever so slightly.

He could barely contain himself, the way you were squeezing around him was almost enough to make him lose control entirely. He lightly gripped your hip, stabilizing you as he slipped a second finger in and gently hooked them forward.

He bit his lip hard, knowing he would have to keep a slow pace to keep you in dreamland. He deluded himself into believing you were dreaming about him, although it was impossible since you probably didn’t even remember him.

Your body was responding to him so well, your little mewls getting louder and louder.

My perfect little slut.

His cock throbbed again, reminding him just how much the thrill of keeping a balance between not waking you up and making you come was turning him on. Your cunt was sucking him in. He could only imagine how good it would feel to fuck you.

He kept lightly rutting his fingers into you, now adding pressure to your clit with his thumb, wanting so desperately to push you over the edge, to feel your cunt convulse around his fingers.

Something closer to a real moan escaped you and then he felt it. Your cunt was squeezing around his fingers in a steady rhythm. He had actually made you come in your sleep.

Toby just couldn’t take it anymore. That was the final thing that made him snap. He needed to be inside you. Now.

It would just be the head. Everything would be fine if it was just the head. Surely you wouldn’t wake up just from that.

He quickly unbuckled his belt and shoved his pants and his boxers down all in one move. He stroked his already hard cock a few times, biting back a groan.

Carefully, he ran the tip of his cock against your dripping cunt. He sucked in breath. “Fuck…”

He slowly pushed himself into you letting out a full groan this time. He looked down at your sleeping face.

How the fuck is she still asleep?

He was almost convinced you were faking it. That you were pretending to be asleep so he would keep going.

Once he had the head inside, his cock was only throbbing harder, screaming at him to push all the way inside. He just couldn’t do it. You felt way too good.

He grabbed your hips harshly, quickly shoving the rest of his cock inside you. Immediately, he started rutting into you at a fast pace.

Instantly, you awoke, disoriented and confused at the man you didn’t recognize pounding your cunt. Were you still dreaming?

One harsh thrust that rammed against your cervix proved to you that it was not, you let out a sharp wince from the pain.

“Does it hurt?” He asked, pushing your shirt up to expose your tits.

You only moaned and whined in response, still utterly dazed and lacking the alertness to fight.

“I didn’t want it to happen like this.” He said, voice shaking from his excitement. “I just needed to have you so badly.”

Your eyes traveled down to where he was still pounding into you relentlessly.

“Oh my god.” You moaned, feeling your stomach start to tighten. Tears began to fill your eyes as you started to realize what was happening.

“Shhh. It’s okay. Just a little longer.” He attempted to soothe you, feeling himself get close to the edge.

You were getting closer too, your cunt already stimulated from the previous orgasm. You couldn’t stop him now, you were too close to coming. It felt too good to stop him.

“God. Fuck…!” He moaned, sliding his arm underneath you to pull your waist closer. “This is your fault you know?”

You couldn’t answer him even if you wanted to, moaning uncontrollably as your orgasm built. Either way, you had no idea what he was talking about.

“If you weren’t so fucking stupid, so fucking perfectly stupid. God…” he was rambling at this point, trying not to come yet so he could prolong the feeling of fucking you. “And if your cunt didn’t feel this fucking good. Fuck…” he sucked in a breath.

“No… fuck…!” You moaned, arching your body into him as your cunt milked his cock, begging for his cum. Coming around his cock felt so good you thought you could actually see stars.

“So good for me. That’s it. Fuck…!” A couple more strokes and he was moaning in your ear as his cum filled your cunt.

Well, the game was over now. He was forced to take you back with him. He had wanted you to come willingly but… that wasn’t really an option now.

His dark eyes met yours, his expression so sinister you felt yourself shrink in his gaze.

“Now I’m gonna need you to be good for me. I don’t wanna have to hurt you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pls remember to distinguish fiction from reality! These types of behaviors shouldn’t be emulated in real life without extensive conversation beforehand between consenting partners!

Hope you guys enjoyed :3

[fairytaleendingss]

hiiii!! i lurved your writing in the roommates fic so much and wanted to request a little something if you're keennnn. . .

i was thinking of this poly!marauders thing, where a reader who has previously been in a bad relationship (the extent of the bad up to you) gets into a relationship with the marauders and keeps trying to "test" their limits only to be met with patience and love. maybe leading to jumpiness from the reader as they feel it's all going to go south but it just never does? mayyyybe hurt/comfort and reassurance?👀👀

thankyouururu ofc no pressure 💕💕💕💕 love your work again

Thanks so much for the request hun! Sorry I've been a bit slow in responding but hopefully you enjoy!

Testing The Waters

Summary: Your ex boyfriend used to get mad at you for the littlest of things and you begin to wonder whether your new relationship will be the same.

Pairing: Poly!Marauder x fem!reader

CW: Talk of toxic relationships, reader being extremely insecure in her relationship, allusions to sex (only mentioned), brief mention of Sirius' abusive childhood, a disgusting amount of cheesy pet-names.

—

It started in a Tuesday night. You'd come home from a long shift at work that afternoon and had been so exhausted from the day that you decided to take a nap. You knew your boyfriends would all be home a little later and you figured you'd shut your eyes briefly and then get up in time to make them dinner before they arrived.

You had all moved in together only a month ago but you'd quickly slotted into routine when it came to chores. Despite all working weird hours at your respective jobs, it seemed that you were all able to fall into a steady rhythm, naturally configuring to each other's schedules in a way that just seemed to work.

So when you woke up a few hours later to the sound of the front door unlocking, you were sent into a full blown panic. You jumped out of bed frantically and rushed to the front door to see Sirius and James enter, chatting animatedly amongst themselves. Your heart was racing as a jolt of guilt pierced your stomach.

In the back of your mind, you could hear the voice of your ex boyfriend.

"You're so worthless, y/n! You always mess everything up."

Tears sprung to your eyes as you hurried into the kitchen, quickly filling a pot with hot water and throwing it haphazardly onto the stove.

Hearing the clanging of pots and pans, Sirius and James were allerted to your presence. However, they grew concerned when they walked into the kitchen to see you wiping tears from your eyes as you frantically gathered the ingredients to make pasta.

"Hey darling, what's going on?" James asked, reaching an arm out to grasp your wrist gently.

He cupped your face in his walm palms, using the pads of his thumbs to wipe the tears from your cheeks while Sirius peered over his shoulder, looking like a kicked puppy at the sight of your distress. '

"Please don't be mad," you choked out. The concern in their eyes did nothing to loosen the vice of guilt that was clasping itself around your heart.

"Why would we be mad, lovely?" Sirius stepped forward, resting a hand ever so gently on your shoulder, like he was scared you'd crumble under his touch.

"I wanted to make you dinner before you got home but I fell asleep and now your here and I haven't done it."

There was a moment of silence before James barked out a laugh. You furrowed your brows in confusion.

"Is that all this is about? Geez, love, you scared the shit out of me. I thought something was wrong."

You blinked up at him, perplexed by his response. "But I wanted to do something nice for you and I ruined it!"

"You didn't ruin anything, angel," Sirius cooed. "How about I give Remus a call and he can pick up some Chinese on the way home?"

"Sound's good to me," James responded keenly. Then he turned back to you.

"In the meantime, why don't we go and cuddle on the sofa for a bit. I could use it after the day I've had."

He guided you towards the couch but you couldn't help but glance back towards the mess you'd now made in the kitchen.

"But-"

"No buts," Sirius stated firmly. "I'm calling Remus right now. You go and relax."

Eventually you relented, however, you couldn't stop replaying the interaction in your mind. Even laying in bed that night, curled up with your boyfriends, stomachs full of takeaway, your mind went over the scene.

You couldn't fully comprehend what had happened. You just didn't understand it. Your previous boyfriend would never have let you get away with something like that.

He would've yelled at you, called you stupid and lazy and stood over your shoulder while you made his meal to make sure you didn't burn anything in your haste. That's just how things went. You looked after your boyfriends and when your failed, you got in trouble for it.

Only, Sirius and James had seemed so... understanding? Something about it made your heart stutter with unease. Maybe they were mad, you thought, and they were just too tired from work to tell you off. Maybe they were saving it up for the next time you had an argument.

Whatever it was, it twisted unpleasantly into your gut. Remus was also quiet tonight, he was probably mad at you for making him pick up food on the way from work and wasting his time. Maybe he was giving you the silent treatment, putting a distance in between you as a form of punishment.

Subconciously, you rolled over towards him, where he was nestled beside you and you felt him throw an arm over your waste, still it didn't serve to bring much comfort in that moment.

--

The next morning, you expected them all to confront you. To sit you down and reprimand you for your failure the night before. However, the blow never came.

Instead, they got dressed as usual, ready for work and one by one planted a kiss on your lips as they walked out the door. You supposed you should've been relieved but something in the back of your mind wouldn't let you. You couldn't shake the feeling there was something else at play here, some resentment building inside of them just waiting to burst out.

You couldn't help but wonder what it would take for them to snap.

--

The next time it happened was on Friday. Sirius wanted to take you out to a trendy new restaurant that had opened down the road and you'd all been very excited.

You wanted to make sure you looked amazing for your boys tonight which meant spending over an hour sifting through your wardrobe to find the perfect outfit.

At one point you pulled out a red dress you'd bought to wear to your friend's bachelorette party. It was short and tight and hugged all your curves perfectly. You pulled it from the wardrobe and tossed it aside instantly. You'd never worn in in front of the boys, but your ex always said it was inappropriate for you to wear in public while you were in a relationship and that it made you look like a hooker.

You paused then, for a moment, turning to glance at the piece of fabric where it lay on the bed. You bit your lip as you examined it and a silly idea crossed through your mind.

You knew in an instant it was a dumb thing to do, to test your boyfriend's limits like that, but a nawing curiosity plagued at you. In a moment of confidence, you slipped the dress on.

Walking, down the stairs, you braced yourself for impact. You were well prepared to be told you looked slutty, and that you'd have to change before leaving the house. You had a second, more conservative outfit layed out on the bed, ready for a quick change. But you just had to know for sure.

The boys were waiting for you as you walked down, all dressed up nicely. Their eyes widened when they fell on your form.

"Wow!" Sirius blurted, looking like his eyes were about to burst forth from his skull. "You look..."

You cringed. You knew they wouldn't like it. "Is it too revealing?"

James shook his head. "No baby, not at all. You look amazing."

You were taken aback by the comment, even moreso when Remus agreed with him.

"You look beautiful, dove," he complimented softly. "Besides, it's not up to us what you wear. You could go out in a paper bag for all I care and you'd still be the prettiest girl in the room."

Heat rose in your cheeks at his statement. "Really?"

"Absolutely!"

You're gaze then fell back to Sirius, who was standing in front of you, mouth agape, still at a loss for words as he stared at you.

You felt embarassed then. You shouldn't have gotten your hopes up with the other boys. You should've known it'd be Sirius who objected. He tended to be the most protective of the three of them.

"You don't like it?" You questioned unsteadily, already turning on your heel, ready to go back upstairs and change, when Sirius suddenly grabbed you by the waist.

"No, no, baby. I love it."

He pulled you towards him, eyes ablaze as he looked you up and down.

"You look so sexy. I think you should dress like this all the time."

A small smile formed on your face as you looked up at him. He licked his lips deviously.

"Alright, down boy," James teased, claping a hand on his boyfriend's shoulder. "We've still got to make it through dinner yet. You can rip her clothes off when we get back."

Sirius rolled is eyes dramatically.

"Oh alright then," he turned back to you briefly. "But get ready baby, because tonight I'm going to rock your world."

"Keep it in your pants would you? We're about to go out in public," Remus huffed, shaking his head exasperatedly and James all but dragged Sirius away from you. Remus then held an arm out for you to grasp.

"Shall we?" He asked, looking down at you fondly.

You nodded shyly, as the two of you headed towards the door.

Well, this definitely wasn't the response you'd expected.

__

You're next opportunity came just under a week later. Friday night had been very very fun but you still couldn't get the thought out of your mind that something was wrong.

You couldn't wrap your head around why the boys had been so nice to you. You're ex boyfriend would never let you get away with as much as you had. Surely there was something that would drive them over the edge. Anxiety niggled at the back of your mind. You felt on guard all the time over the last few days, like you were just waiting to find the thing that would trigger the walls to come crashing down around you.

You were laying on the couch, scrolling through TikTok when James came into the room, holding a bag of his dirty gym clothes.

"Hey, darling," he placed a kiss to your forehead. You responded with small smile.

"Shall I put this in the laundry basket for you to take care of later?"

You froze, a thought flashing through your mind. You knew he didn't mean anything by it. You always did the laundry, the boys just expected it. The same way that James always washed the dishes, Sirius vacuumed the floors and Remus took care of the dusting.

However, you couldn't help but wonder what he'd do if you didn't do it. Would he yell at you? Threaten to leave you?

The thoughts swirled in your mind. James rarely ever got properly angry. He was a good communicator and able to laugh things off for the most part. But what if you did something to really piss him off?

You had to know. You had to be able to prepare yourself in case it happened again.

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

You were surprised by the sound of the words as they came out of your mouth and you were immediately filled with guilt. You never spoke to your boyfriend's like that. Especially not sweet, loving James.

He raised his brows, startled by your response. He stood there for a moment, processing what you'd said.

Now I've done it, you thought. You bit your lip anxiously as you braced yourself for the fallout.

Then, James' features softened. He dropped the bag down on the floor and came to crouch by your head. With a gentle hand, he reached up to brush some hair from your forehead, eyes swimming with concern.

"Is everything okay, my love?" His tone was so affectionate that it made you want to cry. "Are you feeling unwell?"

You shook your head, continuing on with your ploy but confused about his response.

"N-no. I just don't feel like doing it today."

You shuffled away from his touch slightly, unsure of what his reaction would be.

James just smiled sympathetically. "That's okay."

"It is?"

He nodded sweetly. "Of course! We all need a break sometimes. You do the laundry every day, it makes perfect sense you'd be growing tired of it."

Your eyes widened.

"Don't worry about it, lovely. I'll take care of it today."

He plopped a sloppy kiss on your cheek and then stood up, whistling to himself as he scooped his bag off the floor and ventured into the laundry room.

You lay there in silence for a few moments, not 100% sure of what just happened.

--

It was two in the morning and you were laying awake in bed thinking. You had been laying there for a while, a plan formulating in your head. You slowly lifted Sirius' arm off you where it was splayed across your stomach and wiggled your way out of bed.

You were lucky that James had requested to take the middle position this evening, otherwise your mission would have been a lot more challenging.

You crept towards the kitchen, your feet light on the floor as to not alert any of the boys (Sirius was a notoriously light sleeper).

You took a deep breath as you made your way over to the pantry, moving towards the shelf you were looking for. The shelf that contained Remus' chocolate stash.

You hesitated. Was this a dumb idea? You'd seen Remus get mad at Sirius just a week ago when he'd stolen some of his chocolate. You knew that this was going to set him off.

But you just had to see. You had to know what would happen when they got mad at you. You couldn't stand the anticipation anymore.

Determinedly you grabbed a couple of mars bars off the shelf and quickly ate scoffed them down. Then you returned quietly to bed, knowing Remus would definitely notice in the morning.

--

"Okay, who ate my chocolates?"

You shrunk down on the couch, quickly becoming nervous at the irritation in his tone.

"Sirius, was it you again? Because I swear to god I told you last time-"

"It wasn't Sirius," you piped up, saving your boyfriend from an unwarranted scolding. "It was me."

The boys all turned to look at you, and slowly you met Remus' wide eyes. You braced yourself once more.

"Oh," he said. "Okay."

You looked up at him like he had two heads. "Okay? Aren't you mad? I stole your chocolate Remus."

He chuckled. "Dove, you bought me that chocolate. You can have some any time you like. We can get some more in the next grocery run."

"B-but you were so mad at Sirius..."

He flopped himself down on the couch beside you, running a hand affectionately through your hair. "Yes, because Sirius does it all the time just to spite me."

"It's true," Sirius called from his spot on the love seat.

"He hides it as well sometimes."

"What can I say?" the boy teased. "You're cute when you're mad."

Remus just rolled his eyes. "Anyway, darling, if your hungry, you're welcome to have some. I'm happy to share. You don't have to sneak it in the middle of the night."

You sat there in shock for a moment, not quite sure what to say.

"Oh, okay. Thanks."

You gave him a tight lipped smile but inside, the anxiety still bubbled on.

--

Over the next few days, you'd done many things to try and get a reaction from them. You came home late from work without telling them, you "forgot" to lock the front door after leaving the house, you even left all the lights on when you went to bed, something you knew Remus couldn't stand.

However, the worst you ever received was a gentle reminder. Instead of reassuring you, it made your stomach churn. Why were they being so nice all the time? Surely they had some kind of ulterior motive.

When the weekend came around, you decided you finally had enough. It was time to pull out the big guns.

"Hey love, do you mind making us a cup of tea?" Sirius had questioned innocently as you all sat huddled together, watching a movie.

"Of course," you'd responded, jumping up from the couch.

You'd put the kettle on and were removing the teacups from the cupboard when a horrible thought crossed your mind. These were Remus' mother's teacups. The ones he'd kept after she'd passed away. The other boys were so protective of Remus, you knew this was going to illicit some kind of reaction.

You took a deep breath.

CRASH

The teacup clattered to the floor, smashing into hundreds of pieces that scattered across the white kitchen tiles.

Regret consumed you the moment that you did it. Oh God, you thought. What had you done?

You immediately crouched down in an attempt to collect all the pieces and tears began to flood your eyes. The voice of your ex played in your mind once more.

"You're so pathetic. Look at yourself right now. How is anyone supposed to love someone as stupid as you?"

You choked on a sob as you heard the sounds of your boyfriend's footsteps rushing towards you. James got to you first.

"Sweetheart, is everything okay? We heard something break."

You looked up at him, the concern on his face and more tears came to your eyes. You choked on a sob when you realised that this was it. They'd probably break up with you when they saw what you'd done.

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," You choked out. "I know how much you loved these teacups Remus."

You spared yourself a glance towards his face. You expected him to look angry or upset or hurt but instead he just looked... worried?

"Dove it's okay," he walked towards you. "But you need to get off the floor, lovely. I don't want you to get cut by the glass."

You looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "What?"

"I can help, I've got slippers on," Sirius stated and in a swift movement, he was lifting you up off the floor and setting you down on the counter, away from the dangerous shards.

This only caused you to sob more. Why were they being so kind?

"Why are you crying doll? Did you cut yourself?" Sirius asked gently, assessing your face with a hand cupped around your cheek.

You shook your head and sniffled pathetically.

"Then tell us what's got you so upset," James pleaded, looking like he wanted to cry himself. He was always the most sensitive of your boys.

You took a shaky breath. "Why won't you get mad at me?"

Remus looked taken aback. "Why would we be mad at you, dove? It was just an accident."

You sniffled and shook your head. You were on the verge of hysterics now.

"No it wasn't! I did it on purpose. You were supposed to be angry."

"What are you talking about?" James questioned, running a gentle hand along your back. You shrugged away from the contact.

"You're all too nice to me!" you exclaimed. "No matter what I do or how much I stuff up, you're always so kind about it! You're supposed to be angry sometimes!"

"Sweetheart," James murmured. "It's because we love you. Nothing you do will ever change that."

"Really?" you questioned unsurely.

"Of course, dove," Remus confirmed.

You looked up to Sirius to see that he was now looking down at you with a glisten of anguish in his eyes.

"So this is what's been going on? You've been testing us?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. You supposed he was right and suddenly you felt stupid for putting them through all you had for the last few weeks.

"I'm sorry, I'm a terrible girlfriend."

All of a sudden, you were smushed against Sirius' chest.

"No your not. You're wonderful," he muttered into your hair. "I understand, you know? I did the same thing when I ran away to James'. I just wished I picked up on it sooner."

"It's okay," you murmured, your tears finally beginning to slow. "It was silly."

"It wasn't silly, if it made you upset," Remus chimed in.

"Yeah darling, and you know you can come to us with anything? If you're feeling upset about something we want you to tell us," James added.

"I know," you sighed, pulling back from Sirius so you could look at all three of the boys. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, doll. What about this? We promise we will be honest with you if we're ever upset about something so you don't have to worry."

You nodded.

They smiled at you. And for the first time in a while, you're ex's voice vanished from your mind. You didn't need to worry about him anymore. You had your boys, and that's all you needed.

[huhmiya]

DRIVER LICENSE | chris sturniolo

pairing: bf!chris x f!reader

summary: where chris finally obtained his driver's license after years of waiting, but during your first ride with him, he couldn't resist the urge to explore something else.

warning: smut, car sex, swearing, pet names (ma, mama, baby, darling, pretty girl, sweetheart), sub!chris, p in v, dirty talking, hand job, needy chris

a/n: not my photos, on pinterest. bro needs his driver license though. OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE STURNIOLO TRIPLETS!!

WORDS: 2.1k

huhmiya on wattpad

you - pink | chris - orange

-

Matt had always teased Chris about not having his driver's license, especially since he was turning twenty one in less than a week. Little did anyone know, he had been taking driving lessons and had finally obtained his driver's license.

His brothers and you were surprised, but happy for him nonetheless. You couldn't help but wonder how long he had kept this secret, especially since he had even bought a car without telling anyone.

At this moment though, you were in his room, running your hands through his hair in a way that made his eyes roll back in pleasure sometimes.

You were watching a movie together when he suddenly suggested going for a night drive. He trusted himself to drive with you, even though he would need to focus a lot since he had just started driving on his own without an instructor.

"Do you want to go for a night drive?" he asked, shifting slightly to look into your eyes while making sure not to disturb your hands in his hair.

"I don't mind, why do you want to?" you say, and he nods, a smile on his lips. It was reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat in Alice in Wonderland, but it was a pleasant, contagious smile.

"Are you going to drive?" you ask, and he simply nods again, closing his eyes as your fingers lightly massage his scalp, providing a sense of comfort.

You watch him as he shifts to get out of bed, and you follow suit, changing while Chris casually throws on a shirt over his sweatpants.

He grabs his car keys from the bedside table and then looks at you. "You look fine, baby, no need to get all dolled up," he chuckles, gazing at you.

You smile and listen to his advice, slipping on your shoes while he wears sandals with white socks. You glance at him from head to toe but say nothing, a small smile playing on your lips.

He had just left his room, but he held the door open for you to go first. He smiled and followed you downstairs once you thanked him and walked past, but you waited for him to go ahead after reaching the bottom of the stairs.

He then gently places his hand around your waist and wrapped his arm around you as you both headed to the garage to unlock his car.

You settled into the passenger seat while he took the driver's seat. You chuckled to yourself, which prompted him to look at you in confusion. "What?" he asked.

"I don't feel like I'm with you, it feels like I'm sitting next to Matt," you teased. He just rolled his eyes and playfully hit you in response.

“You're an asshole," he says before starting to drive. He had been nervous about it since he was still new to driving, and there was an unusual feeling in his chest because he was scared of making a mistake. However, he tried to push those thoughts away.

As he began driving, he decided to stop at a nearby shop first so both of you could grab some snacks before figuring out what to do and where to go.

You observed him focusing, finding it new to see your boyfriend behind the wheel, which definitely made him look more attractive.

His blue eyes were fixed on the road, his hands on the wheel showing prominent veins, his messy hair, a small smile on his lips, and the way he quickly glanced at you now and then to make sure you were okay.

He was parked close to the shop and quickly asked, "Wanna come in with me?" Your eyes met his before nodding, and he smiled as he headed towards the car, with you following suit.

As you both strolled towards the shop, he locked the car with the keys and then casually placed his hand on your backside as you entered the corner shop.

"Are you sure you're alright, darling?" he murmured, noticing your silence, but he didn't press further. He simply kissed your forehead.

You found it difficult to resist him any longer - his strong hands, his soothing voice, his masculine scent, and his protective nature all stirred a desire within you.

"I'm okay, I promise," you chuckled softly as he went to grab some snacks, and you tagged along, feeling like he was guiding you. He selected snacks for you and him, insisted on paying, even though you offered to contribute.

He carried the items, holding your hand with his free hand, not allowing you to carry anything. You obediently followed him to the car and sat in the passenger seat as he had instructed.

“Do you know where we're going now, sweetheart?” he asked as he finally settled in his car, gazing at you and gently caressing your cheek with his thumb.

You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes and relaxing, though your eyes was filled with love and more, as he had seen before.

He continued to look at you a moment longer before kissing your lips, causing you to pull back slightly, but you couldn't due to he made you to stay so your lips are connected to his.

Slipping his tongue into your mouth, his hands moved to your hair as he drew you closer, despite the constraints of the gear shift and other obstacles.

“Why do you look so beautiful tonight? You always are, but perhaps it's just the lighting that's making you look so stunning right now,” he whispered against your lips.

He eventually pulled away and removed his shirt, feeling a strong desire for you but managing to restrain himself, asking first, “Are you as turned on as I am?” he inquired.

You chuckled softly, nodded, and took control as he leaned in to kiss your lips. You grabbed his belt, pulling him closer, and kissed his lips quickly before drawing back.

“Want to take this to the back seat?” You suggest, and he simply gazes into your eyes before a smile forms on his lips, which quickly turns into a smirk.

Without saying a word, he climbs into the backseat, and you follow suit, pinning him down and kissing him passionately. His hands move to your backside, gripping it tightly.

“How much do you want me?” you whisper against his lips as you pull back slightly, meeting his blue eyes.

“Really badly, ma,” he mutters, his cheeks turning red. He reaches for your head, pulling you in for another kiss, to which you eagerly respond.

As you both explore each other's mouths, his hands roam over your body, unsure of where to settle. When you eventually break the kiss, he lets out a small whine, keeping his gaze fixed on you, uncertain of your next move.

You remove his shirt, exposing his chest as his fingers graze your shirt. It seems like he's nervous but trying to appear confident.

You remained silent but let out a small chuckle before gently brushing his hair away from his face, causing him to smile.

Soon after, you removed your own shirt, his eyes fixed on your body. Without hesitation, he ran his hand over your boobs, since you haven’t been wearing a bra due to your wearing pajamas before leaving the house.

"Shit, mama," he whispered, gazing at your breasts, unable to tear his eyes away. You simply smirked before kissing his jaw.

A soft moan escaped him as he leaned into your touch, his hand now moving to your hair, tenderly stroking it. However, he found it hard to concentrate, so enthralled was he by your touch.

"Y/n... please," he whispered, struggling to articulate his thoughts. You gazed at him after breaking away from his jawline.

"Look at you... can't even speak properly," you teased, causing him to meet your gaze and squint, though he bit his lip to suppress a smile.

You removed his sweatpants, causing his heart to race faster as you saw his arousal growing due to your actions.

You gently grasped his erection and began to stroke him, eliciting shivers and heavy breathing from him.

"Y/N, oh god, baby, I'm going to cum if you continue," he whimpered, locking eyes with you and then glancing at where your hand was around him.

Pre-cum dripped from his cock, indicating his intense excitement for you. He was unable to contain himself any longer, feeling as though he was being teased.

His legs were trembling slightly as you stroked him, and when you kissed his neck, occasionally nibbling on it, he let out louder moans that were particularly noticeable because you were in his new car.

"Y/N, please fuck me! Please, baby! I'll do anything," he cried out, pulling his own hair as he loved when you did it, pretending his hands were yours.

"So needy for me, I love that from you," you said as you pulled away from his neck, his eyes filled with passion and pleasure.

You continued to stroke him a little longer before pulling away. He whimpered, but then he watched as your hands moved to remove your remaining clothes.

His mouth watered, he bit his lip, and he couldn't help but gaze at your naked body, trying not to moan just from the sight.

"Oh, God," he whispered to himself, unable to resist putting his hands on your body, rubbing your ass, and then moving close to your thighs.

"I just need you to ride me! Please, Y/N," he said, his eyes filled with vulnerability that you loved.

You didn’t hesitate at all, you didn’t want to waste any time. As his hands moved to your hips, you positioned yourself more comfortably against him, feeling his cock covered in pre-cum.

He arched his back when he felt you wrap around him, and you moaned softly as his breath caught. "That's it, sweetheart," he whispered.

His size stretched you, and it took a moment to adjust, but you began rocking your hips, causing his eyes to widen and his moans to grow louder.

"Do you like that?" you asked with a smirk, holding his chest as you increased the pace, eliciting another loud moan from him as you added your own small moans to the mix.

He was rendered speechless as you noticed his heart racing in your hand, but you continued to ride him. Unable to withstand it any longer, he was on the verge of climaxing but held back. His hands reached up to move your hair away from your face.

"Pretty girl," he whispered before releasing a soft moan. You bit your lip to stifle your own moans, feeling his cock pulsating inside you, indicating he was close.

"Me too, baby, me too," you responded, knowing exactly what he meant. Unsure of where to place his hands, he ran them over your body.

As you continued to ride him, planting kisses on his chest and leaving a few hickeys, he whimpered and moaned louder.

"I can't hold it any longer, y/n," he softly confessed, signaling his impending orgasm. You simply hummed in agreement.

His grip tightened as he climaxed inside you, reassured it was safe from pregnancy. He let out a loud moan, rolling his eyes with his mouth agape.

You continue to ride him, causing him to shake as he struggles to catch his breath. His hands tremble on your thighs as you keep riding him towards your climax.

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you surrendered to the sensation, covering his cock with a mix of mutual pleasure.

A loud moan escaped you, causing him to glance at you with a small smile before tucking your hair behind your ear.

"Just lay on top of me," he whispered, guiding you gently to relax as you slowed your racing heart. He continued to stroke your hair while your thumb grazed his chest.

Your sweaty bodies pressed against each other, yet neither of you seemed to mind. Chris shifted slightly to locate your clothes and remembered that he had parked somewhere while you both had been entangled in the backseat.

"Darling, we need to get dressed. We have to head home," he said softly before tenderly kissing your lips.

MIYAS MASTERLIST & INFO

[babyjinsu]

heartlink - anton lee

it's a match!

pairing; anton x reader || wc; 2.8k

𐙚 002 003

💭 hehehhehehhehehehhe there'll b a part 2 n a reddit post!!

you weren’t looking for love—you weren’t even looking for something casual.

it was boredom, plain and simple. besides, the semester just ended and you had nothing else to do besides attending your part-time job at a local cafe as a waitress. it was a quiet sunday night when the idea came to you—a way to kill time.

going on dating apps!

you created your profile—chose the best, prettiest selfie you have of yourself. you didn’t put much details in your bio, just a simple, just for fun! ◡̈. at first, it was just swiping for the entertainment of it. left, left, left… right, left… most of the profiles were almost the same—bad quality selfies, forced, corny bios, dudes flexing their muscles in bathroom mirrors… you weren’t expecting much, or anything at all.

then his profile appeared. 

anton lee. 20 years old. likes music n playing them.

holy shit. this guy doesn’t even look real, you thought. he looked like he had been pulled straight from a magazine—the type of guy you just know you stood no chance with—his hair was dark and it fall just past his eyes and he had those handsome features and this anton dude just looked like someone who didn’t belong in dating apps (he definitely didn’t need one too).

you hesitated—but reminded yourself that this was just for fun. if you had no chance with this guy to begin with, what’s the harm? just have fun!

you couldn’t deny that he was exactly your type. painfully so. 

you swiped right. and a second later, almost immediately, your screen flashed—

it’s a match!

——

it didn’t take long for anton to send you a text. 

in fact, it happened faster than you’d expected that it got you wondering if he was the one who had been waiting for you to initiate a conversation. you thought that anton was just one of those guys who matched with girls to boost his ego—that he’s still relevant to the market, but you might be wrong.

anton lee: hey.

even the greeting suited him. short, simple, deceptively normal. or maybe you were just sooo starstruck by his appearance to think he was weird.

upon receiving the text, you stared at your screen—your thumb hovering over the keyboard. it was just a simple hey, but you were thinking too hard on the perfect reply. one that won’t leave anton ghosting you afterwards.

you hesitated for a second before typing back.

yn: hi. i didn’t think you’d text first.

you hummed in satisfaction, giving yourself a slight nod and smile. almost immediately, you got a reply. 

anton lee: why wouldnt i?

you bit the inside of your cheek—why wouldn’t he…?—debating what and how to respond. now feeling a little bit stupid for asking him that. you should’ve just said hi back. you didn’t want to sound insecure, or ‘pick me’, but at the same time, realistically, it felt insane that someone like him, would even notice someone like you.

yn: i dont know lol. you look kinda out of my league. im surprised we even matched.

there was a pause after your text—read—and for a second, you thought you fucked up.

but then his reply came through.

anton lee: you think so?

huh, there was something about his response that made you… shift uncomfortably on your bed. a feeling—an unfamiliar one. it wasn’t a dismissal, nor was it a playful teasing. it didn’t even feel like a question…

before you could think too hard about responding, another message popped up.

anton lee: i think youre really cute though.

the unfamiliar feeling vanished as soon as it came—replaced with a now strange warmth booming in your chest. he thinks i’m cute, you thought, giggling by yourself. you reread the text over and over—flattered.

yn: i guess i got lucky then :) 

anton lee: yeah you did ;)

——

for the next few weeks, you and anton fell into an easy rhythm.

it started slow—just a few, once or twice texts a day. but somehow, the conversations never died. surprisingly, anton knew how to carry a conversation, and he always came up with different topics to talk to you. you started to realise that anton wasn’t like any other guys on the app, or any guys you’ve talked to before. 

he was calm, steady, and almost too easy to talk to—despite his looks.

the odd feeling never came back. he never bombarded you with clingy or needy texts, or pushed you for more than you were comfortable with. he never asked for your inappropriate pictures, or drifted the conversation to one. if you took hours to respond, he understood. if he sensed that you weren’t in the mood to talk, he was more than willing to hear you out. 

anton was just always ready to pick up where the conversation was left off.

you found out that anton created his profile because of a bet—which he had lost a few hours prior to meeting you. and you told him your reason as well—boredom. he was also a student like you too, studying music performance (he didn’t tell you where though, but you understood). 

additionally, anton had a sense of humour like yours—he wasn’t boring, or dry, or had no personality like most handsome guys you knew. he also wasn’t always flirting—but he’d say things that let you guess how he felt about you. there were definitely moments where talking to him was too good to be true, but you’d quickly remind yourself that it wasn’t serious.

and then, one evening, it happened, 

anton lee: so… when are you gonna let me take you out?

you blinked at your screen. 

of course this would come sooner or later—it was only a matter of time before he asked. seeing the question actually came true made your stomach flip in all directions. you bit on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovering over your keyboard.

you wanted to say yes so badly, 

but a small, nagging voice in the back of your mind told you to think it through thoroughly. you had only been talking to anton for a few weeks, and you’d heard all the horror stories about meeting guys online—creepy messages, dates gone wrong, murders…

not that you thought anton would be like that… hopefully. if anything, he had been kind, patient, easygoing, and almost too normal. but… wasn’t that how it always started…?

on the other hand, maybe you were just overthinking it. what if it actually goes well? it’s like winning a lottery, you thought.

yn: i donno. are you as charming in person as you are over the text?

his reply came fast.

anton lee: only one way to find out

you didn’t realise you were holding your breath until his reply came.

anton lee: we can go to rain report in seongsu if you’d like. 

anton lee: they have good pastries there

okay, a cafe. it’s an open, safe, neutral ground.

yn: that sounds good.

anton lee: saturday at 5? 

you hesitated again for a split second—then shook the doubt away as soon as.

yn: okies, see you then?

it took anton a few minutes to reply.

anton lee: im looking forward to it yn :) 

you stared at his response, your grip still around your phone. they felt strangely heavier than they should have. 

you locked your phone and exhaled.

it was just a date. 

what’s the worst that could happen?

——

saturday came by pretty sooner than you’d expected. too soon, honestly.

you had spent the whole week trying not to overthink it. that it was just a date. a date with a normal guy. except this guy was intimidatingly handsome and chill. in hindsight, there was nothing to be nervous about, it was anton who had asked you out. but you woke up that morning feeling like your stomach had been tied into a thousand knots and twists.

you weren’t a loser by any means. in fact, talking to guys wasn't anything new to you at all.  but this was the first time ever that you’d be meeting up with a guy you’d only ever spoken to through a screen. one with a romantic intention.

that morning, while waiting for the perfect time to start getting ready, you distracted yourself by doing the laundry, studying—just whatever to keep your mind from spiraling. but the hours ticked by and the nerves started to creep back in. by 3, you started getting ready.

throughout the whole process of prepping, your mind went through every possible scenario that existed to a man—what if he thought you don’t look like your pictures? what if the conversation was awkward in real life? what if he prefers you over the phone? 

4:30. the distance between the cafe and your apartment wasn’t that far—but it’d be nice to get there early and calm yourself. make a nice first impression.

you took a deep breath, smoothing your clothes down one last time in front of the mirror. 

it’s just a date. but the nervous pit in your stomach refused to go away.

——

when you arrived there, anton was nowhere to be seen. for a split second, you thought anton stood you up. you hated that your heart sank at the possibility. it wasn’t like you were that desperate for the date to happen, but the idea of your date not showing up…

you scanned the cafe, trying not to look too obvious as you searched for a familiar face. people—teenagers and young adults your age, specifically, were chatting and laughing amongst themselves. but there was no sign of anton. 

you exhaled sharply and stared down at your phone, debating whether or not to text him. you decided to ask; and then—

“you’re early.”

the voice came from behind you and it made you jump slightly. whipping your head around, there anton was.

he stood just a few feet away from you. dressed casually in a dark blue sweater with his hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets, his hair was slightly tousled like he had run a hand through it. he looked exactly like his pictures—better in person.

your breath hitched, and you felt stupid for thinking he wasn’t going to show up—after saying he was kind and all.

“i—” you swallowed, feeling caught. you let out a small dry laugh. “i thought maybe you stood me up.” 

anton tilted his head slightly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “why would i do that?” 

you didn’t have an answer. 

before you could think of one—anton smiled softly, god he looked so good.

“come on,” he hummed, nodding toward the open cashier. “should we order?” 

you nodded quickly and followed his lead as he made his way towards the counter. 

“what do you want?” he asked, glancing down at you beside him. the height difference was apparent. he was so tall too. you stared at the menu displayed on the television screen above, humming in thought.

“vanilla latte, i think.” anton nodded then turned to the cashier to order. he got himself a classic latte. the employee rang it up, and before you could even reach for your purse, anton was already tapping his card on the terminal. 

“oh, i could’ve paid…” you murmured softly, not wanting to say it outloud in front of the staff. you know it’s a thing where it is expected for a guy to pay on the first date—a gesture of chivalry. but still, you felt guilty.

anton gave you a soft smile and shrugged, tucking his wallet back in the back of his jeans. “don’t worry about it,” he said. “next date, then.” he added, casually.

your brain short-circuited for a moment. next date?

he said it so effortlessly like it was given. like anton had already known there would be a second one. you felt your face heat up, fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. was it his sheer assumption that made you flustered?

either way, it didn’t seem like anton noticed. or he probably did and was just enjoying watching you squirm.

minutes later, after you both had settled at a nice, quiet table by the corner—and anton had grabbed the drinks from the counter—an odd silence sort of just… settled between you.

not awkward, exactly… just charged.

you wrapped your hands around your cup, focusing on the warmth against your skin instead of the man before you. anton, on the other hand, was a lot more calm—leaning back against his chair as he stirred his coffee absentmindedly. his eyes laid on you in quiet amusement. 

for anyone who didn’t know the context, it didn’t look like a date. 

“you always this nervous?” he asked, cocking his head to the side slightly as he tapped the mocha spoon on the rim of the cup before putting it down. 

“i’m not nervous.”

he raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he was suppressing a smile. “really?”

you hummed and nodded before letting your eyes meet his’. “maybe a little. i’ve never done this before.”

anton leaned forward slightly, placing his elbow on the table. “meet guys from tinder?”

“yeah.”

he hummed in understanding, bringing his coffee to his lips. “don’t you wanna know why i swiped right on you?” he asked. you blinked at the question, slightly caught off guard. of course you do. so you nodded shyly.

anton set his cup down, his fingers traced the rim of the lid deliberately. “i thought you were pretty,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “really pretty, actually.”

a warmth crept up your neck—you weren’t used to being complimented.

you wanted to thank him, but he cut you off. “and you looked cute too. i didn’t know you could look better in real life,” he let out a soft laugh, humming. “i’m so glad we matched.”

okay now, you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. blood was rushing, sprinting to your cheeks.

“thanks, wow,” you brought your cup to your lips, trying to conceal how flustered you were.  

anton smiled, just a little, “and i feel like i’ve known you.”

your breath hitched, “what?” 

anton tilted his head, studying your reaction. “i don’t know. i feel like i’ve seen you before.”

out of nowhere, something cold curled in your stomach. what did he mean by that? was it just one of his flirting pick up lines? you forced a small laugh, keeping your voice light. he looked way too calm, maybe you were just overreacting. “you… haven’t though, right?”

what is wrong with me? you thought, why couldn’t you shake off the uneasiness? 

anton didn’t respond right away. his eyes flickered over your face, and he wasn’t smiling. then, after what felt like hours long of pause— “no,” he finally said, lips curling slightly as he looked down on his cup. “just a feeling.” 

——

if you were being really honest, the date felt a little strange. 

you didn’t mean it in a bad way—anton was really nice. he never made you uncomfortable (in an obvious way), and he paid for your drink—oh, and he bought you some pastries to take home too. the conversation flowed as well enough, and you learned a lot about him. he had been playing the cello since he was young; and he was also a part of the swimming team during his school days. 

but there was just something—you couldn’t name it—about him that sat in your chest.

maybe it was the way anton looked, watching you when you weren’t looking at him. or maybe it was the way he spoke—so calm and collected, so nonchalant about the things he was saying. his mannerism, perhaps? the way he never broke off eye contact when you were talking about your university life? 

but then again, who were you to judge? you had never been on a proper date before. heck, you didn’t even know how a date was supposed to go, to feel. for all you know, it could be normal for girls to feel the way you did upon their first dates too. maybe you were just overthinking—so many maybes. 

anton lee: i had a really nice time today yn :) you looked even prettier up close. 

you found yourself smiling as you locked the door behind you.

yn: thanks! i had fun too ><

yn: you’re just as handsome anton 

it wasn’t a lie, at all. you did have fun, and he looked even better in person.

anton’s reply came just as fast. 

anton lee: i’d love to see you again soon.

you bit your lip, typing a response—that you too, looked forward to seeing him again.

 totally ignoring the way your stomach was twisting.

💭 AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH creepy anton ill probably proofread n edit this l8rrrrrr

[nininikki]

divorced-ish — n. kento

content warnings: ex-husband!nanami, delusional!nanami (he’s cute tho)

author’s note: sigh i need him

ex-husband!nanami who just couldn’t stay away from you if he tried

ex-husband!nanami who you’d originally separated from on account of his work seeming to hold more priority over you, and then your newborn daughter.

ex-husband!nanami who still keeps a photo of you and the baby on his desk at his job (which, ironically, was the thing that ultimately led to his marriage failing). when asked by his nosey secretary why he still kept the photo, he only responded, “it’s my family. why wouldn’t i?”

ex-husband!nanami who had yet to actually finalize the divorce. but really, it wasn’t his fault. he just hadn’t gotten around to sending the papers over (or having them printed up at all), what with all those crazy shifts at work. oh, well, it didn’t matter. he would do it at some point.

ex-husband!nanami who had left you virtually everything in the not-so-finalized-divorce. the four bedroom, four bathroom house, your diamond 6 carat engagement ring, your wedding china, the aston martin db9 he had gifted you for your birthday, the park avenue apartment, the country house in monaco—all of it.

ex-husband!nanami who you had never been able to turn down whenever he stayed over just a little later after dropping the baby back off with you. the two of you would sit on the couch and catch up over a glass of wine. then one glass turned to two, then two to three. and for a minute it would almost feel as if you were still married.

nanami never ended up leaving until the late hours of the night. by which point you began to wonder where he’d gotten all the free time he couldn’t seem to find when you were actually married.

ex-husband!nanami who internally scoffed whenever you mentioned going on a date with another man.

“do you think you could watch her on saturday? i’ve got a date i really don’t wanna miss.” you’d asked at the tail end of an already too long (thirty minute) phone call.

nanami breathed a recognizable, pensive sigh on the other end, chewing through what he’d earlier told you was tempura, but considering how long it was taking him to answer, it may as well have been your nerves.

“you know i will, but, uh,” you heard him swallow. “a date?”

although your ex-husband didn’t exactly sound like he was joking, you couldn’t help the giggle that vibrated through your body. glancing at the clock on your nightstand that read eight-thirty and the baby sleeping soundly in the crib next to your bed, you propped the house phone between your ear and shoulder. what was the harm in killing another thirty minutes?

“yes, kento, a date. his name is scott. he’s an art dealer. i think you’d like him.”

“does scott know you’re still married?”

“separated,” you corrected him. “and no, he doesn’t. do you tell every woman who asks you out that you’re married?”

nanami hesitated for a second before answering, “yes, i do.”

ex-husband!nanami who came to your house with flowers and a store bought pumpkin pie for thanksgiving. more than you’d like to admit, you liked having him around for the holidays. he was so good with the baby, and so attentive to everything else. cleaning up all the leftovers and stray baby toys as the night came to an end.

it was nearing ten o’clock when he had successfully put the baby to sleep, and then came down to help you tidy up the downstairs. “y’know you didn’t have to buy a pie, right?” you told him after you’d discovered it hidden amongst the array of leftover pots and aluminum pans. “i know it’s your favorite. i’d have made you some.”

nanami brought his task at hand (loading the dishwasher) to a stiff halt and joined you at the island countertop. “but hey,” you added, tearing the lid off the pie. “we could see if it’s as good as the real thing.”

your ex-husband, usually the most well-spoken man you knew, could only stiffly nod in your direction while you retrieved a pair of shiny silver forks, still in the drawer they’d always been in. “and i got some whipped cream if you want.” you added as you gave him a fork, now taken aback by his sudden lack of speech. seriously, he hadn’t spoken this little since the year leading up to your separation.

what you didn’t know was that nanami couldn’t speak if he wanted to. he needed this. the three of you hadn’t had a real holiday together since last halloween, and even that was admittedly very bleak. “i miss you,” nanami blurted.

and he did. he missed your desserts for every holiday—savory pumpkin pie for thanksgiving, sweet apple pie for christmas, strawberry eclairs for valentine’s day. he missed opening his eyes every morning to the sight of your face smushed into a pillow, or a bit of drool gathering at the corner of your mouth. he missed coming home from work to the sight of you and the baby sound asleep on the couch. he missed being your husband, and even more knowing you were his wife.

ex-husband!nanami who spent the night fucking his ex-wife into the couch as though they were still married. wrapping you in his strong arms, while murmuring promises of change and betterment. “i’ll never go to work again, swear,” he said, shuddering between deep thrusts. “please just take me back, baby.”

[dickgraysonsbitch]

Hi! Just found your blog and it’s the best thing ever honestly. I was wondering if you could do a Jason Todd x reader where the reader deals with migraines and sensory overloads? If not that’s totally cool, have a nice day!

thank you so much for your ask!! this was actually my first request ever 😭 nonny you will go down in history 💖 a psa that while i do have mild sensory issues, i don’t have migraines, so any and all criticism is welcome!

warnings: pills/migraines | 1.2k words | dividers by @cafekitsune | requests open !

You fell onto the bed, tucking your knees in close to your chest. Fifty minutes. This goddamned headache had been the bane of your whole existence for fifty minutes, and you couldn’t even catch a bloody break. Every week, it would come back like clockwork, and while you had your routine (two advils, an eye mask, and soothing ocean noises all while sitting in a dark room with a singular, mildly-scented lavender candle with two out of three wicks lit) it didn’t change the fact that every minute that you lay there, the throbbing sensation around your head came back worse than before.

Grasping the tip of your nose, you tilted your head back in order to swallow the pills next to you. If you didn’t, you’d eventually gag on the water, and that wasn’t really a pretty sight to see. It was a miracle that you could even work as a hostess, especially on the graveyard shift, because it was taking every ounce of your willpower not to throw up at even the most tamest memories—a sleepy child with food flying out of their mouth, or a costumer shouting about how ‘insane’ you were when you had only gotten through your second advil of the day. It wasn’t enough, clearly, because if it had been, you wouldn’t be holed up in your dark room like a vampire with chronic pain.

One knock on your window jolts you from your ibuprofen-fueled haze. Two knocks. Three knocks—god, who doesn’t have patience in this stupid city? Not everyone can be a metahuman that travels at the speed of sound.

You open your window, head still pulsing, but all thoughts of another cup of mildly sweetened honey tea dissipates when the Red Hood smoothly slides into your living room/kitchen (it’s Gotham! Rent may be low, but you are poor as hell), removes his helmet, and shakes his head like a wet dog, the domino mask he was wearing underneath somehow not falling off. He shoots you a crooked grin before plopping himself on your couch, resting his legs on your coffee table.

“Shoes off,” you grumble. “And for the millionth time, I have a door for a reason. And I put food on that table, and I don’t want to see your nasty feet on it.” While other people might be a bit more reserved when talking to a Bowery drug lord, you had never given yourself the same boundaries. He’d crashed into your apartment when he was injured one night a few months ago, and since then, the Red Hood swore to one, pay off your window, and two, make sure you were safe. In his words, it was the best way to repay you for saving his life—even though you didn’t really do anything of the sort. Basic stitches that you learnt in high school, because that was what they taught when a vigilante could collapse in your house due to blood loss any minute in Gotham.

“Woah…” he raises his hands up in mock surrender, his eyes glinting with mirth. “What’s wrong? Rough shift?”

He can always tell, and you’ve decided to refrain against trying to lie to the only crime lord that you’ll likely ever be friend with, unless the Penguin unexpectedly decides to lumber up your fire escape. (Hood’s gotten you a spiked baseball bat for occasions like that, because you complained about any firearms). A pang of pain from you head. Mental note, put out the candle, no wicks. Darken the room even more, try and fail to go to sleep. You have your second job in the morning tomorrow. Mental note, take a melatonin if you can’t sleep, pack a few pills of ibuprofen and acetaminophen if you can’t get through your morning shift. It’s two AM right now, you could still get three hours of sleep if you—

A rough, calloused hand gently caresses your cheek, sending a tingling sensation down your jawline, all the way down to the base of your spine. Okay, woah. “Take a deep breath, baby.” Hood’s deep, gravelly voice shakes your from your stupor. Oh. You were slipping back into your anxiety induced panic attacks, and you hadn’t even noticed. You take one deep breath, but instead of feeling like you’re stuffing an oversized pillow into a kid sized cover, you’re at ease, letting fresh air flow into your lungs.

“How you doin’ tonight, huh baby? I saw your kitchen light on, thought I’d stop by.” Red Hood rubs a simple circle pattern into your back, letting you lean onto him.

“I bet…” you take a shallow breath. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

A smile cracks through onto his face. “Nah, baby, just you. All the girls have nothing on you, baby. You want to tell me about your day?”

Maybe it was just his voice, but you were almost immediately more at ease than you wee moments ago. Red Hood would’ve had a great calling as a therapist, or even a guidance counselor, but you weren’t sure that he’d like it if you called him, arguably the most fearsome man in Gotham, a service worker. Men were weird that way.

“C-can you talk to me, Hood? I don’t know… you have a nice voice, I guess. Makes me feel safe.”

You could swear that you heard his voice crack before he cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I can do that. So… I guess I didn’t do much today. Oh! This one sleaze-bag was trying to rob this eighth grader, and I’d never seen this old guy, okay? The kid, his name’s James, he immediately just swings his backpack at him. And I come in, this dude’s already gotten a broken nose…”

He keeps talking about the unexpected things that happened during his day, but your eyes are just trained on Hood. His sharp jaw, his toned arms, his hair and the decent-sized white streak that runs through it, his soft lips and the J scar that covered his left cheekbone, and you wondered what it would be like to know him without the mask on. Would he still be the same, sweet guy that you knew?

In a sudden moment of courage, you take Hood’s hand and squeeze it, your heart pounding nervously against your ribcage. “Thank you, Hood.” You whisper. “I don’t know… I don’t know what I would be done if you weren’t here. I’d probably be still having a killer headache right now.”

He smiles, something that you’ve been seeing him do a lot more often than he’s known for. Red Hood, vigilante, drug lord, crime boss? Nowhere to be seen. You try your hardest to gaze past the white lenses over his eyes, concealing his eye color.

“Jay,” he mutters softly, soft enough that if you hadn’t been sitting so close, you wouldn’t have been able to hear a word that he said. “Call me Jay.”

The head comes come back sometimes, but you usually tend to ignore the headaches after a dose of acetaminophen and a head massage from who might be the world’s best vigilante, Jay. You may not know his full name yet, but you know his heart, and under all that armor, under the Red Hood, is a man with a heart of gold.

please please please let me know if i got anything wrong so i can edit it!

[jazzy11scorpio]

The Black Rose and the Star

Chapter 1 Unspoken Words

Description: Landing a job at SNL is huge for you as photographer, but the real surprise comes in when you met ridiculously charming actor [Pedro Pascal]. From secret studio dances to late-night pizza and poetry, your connection is undeniable. Turns out, the best things in life are totally unplanned.😉 It's a slow burn and so fluffy. For now 🫣

I think we all have delulu dreams of Pedro so here is mine 😊

Pairing: You / Pedro Pascal

Word count: 2,319

It was Friday, you were in studio finishing your work, you were happy, you are going to rest finally. When your phone rings. It was your boss. SHIT you thought.

"Ugh, seriously?" you groaned, already picturing your relaxing Friday night going up in smoke. Your boss's voice on the other end of the phone wasn't promising anything good. "What's the fire drill this time?" you ask him.

"Lorne Michaels' office called," he explained "They need a new photographer. Mary Ellen's sick."

Your heart skipped a beat. Mary Ellen Matthews. The legendary SNL photographer. "And…?" you prompted, barely daring to breathe.

"Lorne's seen your work," your boss continued. "He specifically requested you."

Your breath hitched. Whoa.

Lorne Michaels himself had seen your work? That was…insane. "Okay," you managed, trying to sound cool and collected when inside you were freaking out.

"Oh, and there's one tiny detail," your boss added, and you could practically hear the smirk. "You'll be working with Pedro Pascal."

Your brain short-circuited. Pedro Pascal. Pedro Pascal. The name echoed in your head like a beautiful melody. You loved his work. You loved his everything, honestly. The thought of actually meeting him, working with him… it was too much. A giggle threatened to escape, and you bit your lip to keep it in. "Okay, cool," you mumbled, trying to play it cool.

"Be at Studio 8H at NBC on Monday," your boss instructed.

"Will do," you replied, your mind already a million miles away. Studio 8H. SNL. Him. It was all so ridiculously exciting. You hung up, a huge grin spreading across your face. Friday night plans? Forget about it. Monday couldn't get here fast enough. You were going to meet him.

The whole weekend was a wash. Sleep? Forget about it. Your brain was a non-stop party of "OMG I'm meeting him" on repeat. Monday morning finally rolled around, and you practically bounced out of bed, dragging your assistant along for the ride. The studio was buzzing, the kind of organized chaos that comes with live TV. You met the producers, the crew – everyone was super nice and professional. And then… he walked in.

Holy crap.

Your brain just…froze. He was even more amazing in person. Seriously, spectacular. He said hi to everyone, that smile of his making your heart do a weird little flip-flop. Then he vanished into an office with the producers, and you tried to, you know, breathe again.

A few minutes later, he came back out, and one of the producers waved you over.

"Pedro, this is the photographer," he said.

You stuck out your hand, trying so hard not to be a total mess. "Hi, I'm…," you managed, getting your name out without too much stammering. He shook your hand, and whoa, that touch. Electric.

"Nice to meet you," he said, and his voice was just as warm and charming as you'd hoped.

"You two are working together tomorrow," the producer said. "We're shooting the promo pics."

"Alright," you replied, trying to play it cool. Inside, you were screaming. He smiled again, and you were pretty sure your knees almost gave out.

Then he turned to the crew, and they all started talking about the script. The vibe shifted, everyone getting down to business. You watched him chat with everyone, so relaxed and enthusiastic. You couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would be like.

Shoot day 📸

That day was a trip. You were floating, high on the excitement of him, and trying to play it cool. Today was that day – the photoshoot. You practically leaped out of bed (okay, maybe you snoozed the alarm once or twice), picked out your best outfit (but, like, a cool, casual best), showered, and even put on some makeup (but, you know, the "I woke up like this" kind).

When you arrived at the studio, he was already there. Coco, his groomer and friend, was working on his hair. You introduced yourself to her; she was lovely. Then, you told him you'd wait until he was ready.

Half an hour later, you were setting up your camera, a little shaky despite having worked with big names before. This was different. This was him. And then he walked in.

Oh. My. God.

He was…gorgeous. His hair… you had a sudden, almost overwhelming urge to run your fingers through it. That cute face tucked between my… "Girl, are you alright?" Emma, your assistant, nudged you, her eyes wide. "Yeah, fine," you mumbled, but you knew she'd never seen you like this.

You started shooting, and he was a total pro. So talented, so gorgeous. It was easy, actually. He listened to your directions, and the camera just loved him.

Finally, the shoot was done. You walked over, thanking him.

"I'd love to see the pics," he said.

You showed him your laptop, and as you scrolled through the photos, he leaned in close.

His cologne smelled insane, and you were trying really hard not to just melt on the spot. "These are awesome," he said, grinning. "I love them."

And then, he put his hand on your shoulder. Fuck. You were pretty sure you were melting. "You did an amazing job," he whispered in your ear.

"Well," you managed, your voice a little husky, "it was you. You're incredible. It was pleasure working with you."

And then he left winking at you, leaving your heart pounding like a drum solo. You were officially a mess.

You sat at your table, fingers flying across the keyboard as you edited the photos. He was close by, at the next table, going over the script with the crew. Emma, your ever-attentive assistant, came over. "Need anything?"

"The strongest coffee you can find," you groaned, rubbing your burning eyes.

"And an energy drink. I haven't slept in days."

"That's not healthy," she scolded gently.

"Well, I've gotta die from something," you mumbled, only half-joking.

She giggled. "What kind of coffee?"

"Black as my soul and cold as ice," you replied.

Emma, being the absolute gem she was, turned to Pedro and the crew. "Anyone else need anything?"

"I'll have what she's having," he said, looking over at you and smiling.

You were like Wait, did that just happen? He smiled at me?

Emma brought the coffees, and you thanked her profusely.

"Seriously," she said, giving you a concerned look. "You need to do something about this insomnia. Have you tried sleep pills?"

"Yeah, they don't really work," you sighed.

"What about tea?" she asked.

You gave her a look. "Do I look like tea is going to calm me down?"

She laughed. "Good point."

"I hate tea," you confessed.

"Okay, okay," she said, still chuckling. "Just trying to help."

"I know, and I appreciate that thank you." you said, giving her a grateful smile. She was the best.

About an hour after Pedro was leaving with his friend, he strolled back in. And, to your surprise, he actually said goodbye to you. You felt your cheeks warm up a little. Right then, the producer showed up. "Hey, those photos and videos," he said. "Think you can get them to us by morning? We need them for tomorrow."

"Yep, I can do that," you said. "Just gotta finish up here."

"Awesome! Thanks," he replied, looking relieved.

Hours later, you were finally almost done. The program was rendering, and you were just chilling, waiting for it to finish up so you could send everything off. You were beat, but figured you'd put on some tunes to keep you going. A few minutes later, you were totally in your zone, dancing and belting out the lyrics, not a care in the world. You were alone, after all, and enjoying the moment.

Then, boom, he was just there. Pedro. He was cracking up.

"Those are some serious moves," he said, grinning. "Uh, I just forgot my glasses and script."

You froze, totally embarrassed. "Oh my god," you mumbled, your face getting hot. "I didn't realize anyone was around."

"No worries," he chuckled. "Your secret's safe with me. Unless… you want to give me a lesson?" He gestured playfully. "I've always wanted to learn how to… uh… do that." He attempted a little hip swivel, which came out more like a shimmy, and you couldn't help but laugh.

Your heart did a little flutter-kick. "Oh, please," you said, trying to play it cool. "You'd probably break something."

"Hey, I'm a fast learner," he protested, grinning. He was already shuffling closer, trying to copy your earlier moves, though not quite as gracefully. "Come on, show me what you got."

"Okay, fine," you laughed, showing him a basic step. He was actually into it, and before you knew it, you were both laughing and twirling around the studio to the beat of the song."Wow," you said, impressed. "You've got some serious rhythm. Those hips don't lie." He was a good dancer, you had to admit.

"You know," he said, his voice a little breathy, "for someone who claims to be tired, you've got a lot of energy." He moved even closer, a playful glint in his eyes. "And," he murmured, his voice dropping, "you smell amazing."

Fuck, you thought. I really want this man.

"It's called the power of RUN-DMC," you replied, trying to sound casual even though your insides were doing a wild dance.

He was so close, and at one point, he lightly touched your waist as he spun you, and whoa. "You dance like this always?" he asked, his eyes locking with yours. "You're good."

"No," you replied, a shy smile playing on your lips. "Only when I'm alone."

He grinned, a genuine, warm smile that made your heart melt. He was enjoying this moment with you, you could tell.

It was a perfect, crazy, unexpected moment… until your phone rang, totally killing the vibe.

Your phone wouldn't stop buzzing. "You should probably answer that," he said, nodding towards the insistent ringing.

You sighed and picked up. After a brief, tense exchange, you hung up, but the conversation clearly wasn't over. He left to find his glasses and script, but he came back just as your ex’s voice boomed from your phone.

"I told you, we are done. Don't call me ever again!" you snapped, your voice rising. Pedro’s face creased with worry as he overheard the shouting.

You slammed the phone down on the table, fuming. "Everything okay?" he asked, his brow furrowed. "Who was that?"

"My ex," you said, still trying to control your anger. "Long story..I don't want to mention him."

"Ok," he said, shaking his head. "You shouldn't be treated like that. Seriously. If you need anything, anything at all, I'm here."

"Thank you," you said, the sincerity in your voice palpable. "That means a lot." You glanced at the time. "I should probably get going. I'm finally done here."

You both left the building together. "Thanks again for the dance," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "I actually had fun." He says "I enjoyed too."

You started to walk away, but he called after you. "Hey, where's your car?"

"It's in the repair shop," you explained.

"Oh," he said. "It's pretty late. I don't want you taking the bus alone. Let me give you a ride."

"Really? You don't have to—"

"No, I insist," he said. "It's the least I can do."

You got in the car, and the ride was comfortable, easy. You chatted about everything, the earlier tension fading away. When you pulled up to your apartment building, you thanked him for the ride.

As you reached for your stuff in the backseat, he was already opening the door for you.

"Allow me," he said, flashing that charming smile.

Such a gentleman, you thought. "Thank you," you said, feeling a little flustered. Then, a slightly crazy thought popped into your head.

"Hey," you blurted out, "are you hungry? I was planning to make a pizza." You were immediately nervous that you were being too forward.

He chuckled, noticing your hesitation. "Actually," he said, "I'm starving. And pizza sounds perfect. I'm a sucker for a good pizza." He grinned. "Especially when someone else is preparing it."

"Great!" you said, relief washing over you. "Come on in." And just like that, you were walking into your apartment with him.

💓

You get into your apartment. "Make yourself at home," you said. "I'll grab you something to drink while I prepare the pizza."

He wandered over to the bookshelves that lined one wall. "Wow, you've got quite a collection," he commented, running a hand along the spines. "You're a reader?"

"Yeah, books and movies are my two favorite things," you replied.

He chuckled, his eyes landing on a shelf crammed with everything from classic literature to steamy romance novels.

"Crime and Punishment right next to… those," he said, a playful smirk on his face. "I like your range."

"Hey, a girl's gotta have options," you said, grinning."Sometimes you need Dostoevsky, sometimes you need..well, you know spicy stuff."

"I get it," he said, still chuckling.

His gaze drifted to the small table by the wall, where a single black rose stood in a glass vase. "Wow," he said, his voice softer now.

"That's… striking. A black rose. I've never seen one before."

"They're my favorite," you said, walking over to the rose. "They're from Türkiye. They're unique. And so beautiful to me." You say "They just feel…special."

"They are special," he agreed, coming to stand beside you. "They suit you."

You looked up at him, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes meeting yours.

"They're beautiful, a little mysterious… just like you."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "Thank you," you whispered.

"That's… really nice of you to say."

"I mean it," he said, his voice low. "Everything about this place…it feels like you.It's… I don’t know… comfortable."

So, you are movie buff too? What are some favorites?"

"Ugh, that's the hardest question ever," you groaned. "I love anything with a good story, but I'm a sucker for good comedy and, you know, movies with twists that make your jaw drop."

You hoped he wouldn't pull out one of the spicier books, but of course, he did. He picked up one with a particularly intriguing title and flipped it open. He read a few lines, his eyebrows shooting up. "Whoa," he said, a grin spreading across his face. "This is…descriptive"

"Put that down," you said, laughing and playfully swatting his arm.

"You're going to corrupt my innocent image."

"Too late," he said, still grinning. "The image has been corrupted."

"Pizza will be ready in about fifteen minutes," you announced, settling on the sofa next to him. He was still holding the book.

"So," he said, flipping through the pages. "This one's yours?" He pointed to a slim volume bound in soft leather.

"Yeah," you said. "It's my… poetry journal. I write all my favorite poems in there."

"Mind if I take a peek?" he asked.

"Sure," you said, a little nervous. It felt weirdly intimate, sharing your favorite poems with him. He flipped through the pages and then stopped. "This one," he said. "Read this one to me."

You took the book, your heart pounding a little. You cleared your throat and read him your favorite poem, the words flowing easily off your tongue, even with him sitting right next to you, listening intently.

"All I want, is to lose myself in your eyes, to forget the world and feel like I belong to something real, something I can't escape, even if I wanted to."

You finished the poem, your voice soft.

"That's… really beautiful," he said, his gaze fixed on you.

"This one's my absolute favorite," you said, turning the page.

"It's called 'I Love You From Afar.'" And then you began to read:

"I love you from afar

without being able to smell your scent

to embrace your nape

to feel your face

I merely love you

from afar, I just love you

not holding your hand

without touching your heart

nor dissolving in your eyes

in spite of today’s three-day love fads

not wildly but like a woman, I love you

I just love you from afar

without wiping off the two tears running down your cheeks

not joining you in your heartiest laughs

nor crooning together with you your most favorite song

from afar, I just love you

without disappointing,

not pouring out anything

without destroying

not making sad,

nor causing a cry, I love you from afar

I just love you like that from afar;

by shredding in my tongue

every word I want to tell you

I love you

I love you on a white piece of paper

while my words fall down, drop by drop…"

When you finished, there was a comfortable silence. He was looking at you, his expression thoughtful. "That's… intense," he said, a small smile playing on his lips. "Really beautiful, though." He paused. "It's, like, really vulnerable, too."

You shrugged a little. "Yeah, well," you said. "Poetry. It's kind of my thing."

You paused, then added, "I think that kind of love, the 'from afar' kind, is the purest, biggest love a human being can feel. But also the one that's hurts the most. It's all about the heart, no expectations, no conditions."

He nodded slowly. "I can see that," he said. "There's a certain… power in that kind of selfless love, isn't there?"

You nodded back. "Yeah." You felt a little exposed, but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling. It was… nice.

You stood up and checked on the pizza. Perfect. You set the table, and he came over, a smile on his face."Smells amazing," he said.

He took a bite, his eyes widening. "Wow," he said. "This is… seriously good. Best pizza I've had in ages." He polished off a slice.

"You've got some serious culinary skills."

"Thanks," you said, pleased. "It's my secret recipe."

You grabbed a beer from the fridge, handing it to him. "Perfect pairing," he declared. You shook your head, still a little in disbelief.

"I still can't believe I'm sitting here, eating pizza with you," you said, laughing a little. "This has been the best night. Thank you for keeping me company.”

"The pleasure was all mine," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I really enjoyed tonight, too. The dancing, the poetry… the pizza." He grinned. "It was all perfect."

After you finished eating, he picked up the poetry book again. "Mind if I borrow this?" he asked. "I'd love to read some more of these poems."

"Of course," you said. "Just promise you'll give it back."

"Wouldn't dream of keeping it," he said, carefully tucking the book into his jacket.

As he stood at the door, ready to leave, he turned back to you. "Thank you again for tonight," he said, his voice warm. He stepped closer and, before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. It was quick, but it was…..AMAZING.

His arms around you, the scent of his cologne… it was the best feeling ever. "Good night," he whispered.

"Good night," you replied, your heart still doing a little happy dance.

He was gone, and you were left standing in your apartment, a dazed smile on your face. It was late, you were exhausted, but you couldn't quite believe what had just happened. Pizza, poetry, dancing, a hug… with him. It felt like a dream.

The next two days were a blur of rehearsals and prep for Saturday's show. Friday was pretaping, and you mostly tried not to just stare at him the whole time. Seriously, he was so captivating to watch. Just pure talent.

After filming wrapped, he came over to you, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I've been reading your poems," he said. "They're… really something. You should publish them. Seriously."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck. "Oh, come on," you said, trying to downplay it. "They're not that good."

"They are," he insisted. "They're honest and raw and… beautiful. You have a real gift." He paused, a playful glint in his eyes. "And," he added, "I was thinking… maybe we could have a pizza and poetry night sometime? Just the two of us?"

"Sure," you said, trying to sound all chill. "Sounds fun. But next time, we're watching a movie. My pick."

"Okay, deal," he said. "I'm down for that." He leaned in a little. "You know," he murmured, "it's been really nice getting to know you. I feel… comfortable around you. It's cool."

"Yeah, thank you" you said, your heart doing a little flutter-kick. "I'm glad to hear that." You were trying so hard to play it cool, but inside you were doing a happy dance. You couldn't wait for that movie night.

🎥🎬

Saturday night was electric. The studio buzzed with energy, and you were right in the thick of it, helping the crew wherever you could, but mostly, let's be honest, you were watching him.

He walked in, all in black, those gorgeous curls framing his face, that "dad bod" he rocked so perfectly… you couldn't take your eyes off him.

"Honey, you are so in love," Emma whispered, nudging you playfully.

"I mean, who wouldn't be?" you replied, only half-joking. "That man is a Zaddy."

Emma laughed. You started humming.

Sex bomb, sex bomb, you're my sex bomb

And, baby, you can turn me on.

And before you knew it, you and Emma were belting out the song, doing a little impromptu dance party.

Then, the stream ended, and he walked up, having clearly heard your little performance. His face was serious. "Who's the sex bomb?" he asked, his voice low.

Oh crap you thought. Emma froze, her eyes wide. You turned around, and there he was.

"I… I'm sorry," you stammered. "I just… couldn't help myself."

He burst out laughing. "I'm just kidding," he said. "I love that song. And, if I may say…" He touched your shoulder lightly. "You're the one."

Your mind went blank. Did he just…?

You managed a "Thank you," your voice a little shaky.

"Are you coming to the after-party?" he asked.

"Nah," you said. "I'm not really a big party person."

"Me neither," he said. "But… would you come with me? Just for a little while?"

Oh my god, is he… asking me out?

"Yes," you managed, trying to keep your voice steady. "I'd love to."

After everything wrapped up, he came over. "Come on," he said, taking your hand. "Let's go."

Walking into the after-party with him was surreal. Everyone was looking at you, and you suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious. He got you a drink, and then, he asked you to dance. It was a slow song, and when he took your hand and pulled you close, his hand resting on your waist, you thought you might actually melt. Oh my god. His body was so close to yours, and you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

What is this man doing to me? You had never felt like this before.

Pedro POV ❤️‍🔥

The music swirled around us, a slow, pulsing beat. She moved with a quiet grace, her body swaying in time with the rhythm. God, I thought, she’s stunning. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but there was something about her… something mysterious, intriguing. I’d been drawn to her from the moment I’d seen her .

And then I’d heard her poetry…raw, honest, beautiful. Even her slightly awkward, goofy humor. And her food. Everything about her was captivating me in a way I didn’t quite understand.

I pulled her a little closer, my hand resting lightly on her waist. Her perfume was intoxicating. Damn, I thought. I wanted her. Badly. But I didn't want to rush things. There was something special about her, something I didn't want to mess up. Her eyes… those intense eyes, and that soft hair… and that silly, unguarded side of her, the way she’d just been dancing and singing without a care in the world. It was captivating.

"I think you're gorgeous," I murmured, my voice low. "I haven't met anyone like you before."

"Thank you," she said, a little breathless. "You're pretty incredible yourself. Seriously, this week has been amazing."

"Mine too," I said, my eyes locking with hers.

When the song ended, a wave of nervousness washed over her. "I should probably get going," she said, suddenly feeling shy.

"I'll drive you," I offered.

She nodded, grateful.

❣️

At your apartment door, he handed you back your poetry book. "Thanks for the dance," he said, a warm smile gracing his lips. "And for a beautiful night."

"It was… the best night ever," you blurted out, then immediately cringed. Smooth.

He hesitated, his breath catching a little. You saw something shift in his expression. Then, he leaned in, cupped your cheek in his hand, and kissed you. It was a sweet, tentative kiss, like he was testing the waters. He pulled back a little, looking almost nervous. "I'm sorry," he stammered. "I didn't mean to—"

Before he could finish, you grabbed him and kissed him again, harder this time, all that pent-up energy finally finding an outlet. You didn't want him to apologize. You wanted this. You pulled him inside, kicked the door shut, and suddenly, it was just the two of you. The air between you was electric.

Thanks for the reading ❣️ Please like, reblog or comment. I appreciate it alot. 💖

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

@pedrohub @pedgito @littlemisspascal

[curawrites]

Babysitter

Mike Schmidt x Fem! Babysitter! Reader

Warnings: porn with some plot, kind of pervy Mike, lewd fantasies, cursing, making out, making out, fingering, p in v sex, protected sex.

Note: I’ve just awoken from the worst writers block ever because of this man. I haven’t actually watched the movie tho. 💚

Mike stared intently at the fuzzy security screens. His vision blurred from how hard his eyes were focusing and darting from one screen to another.

He shuts his eyes for a second before reopening them, his vision now clear.

Fuck he hated this job.

He hated the long hours, hated having to work the night shifts, hated having to stare at the stupid screens for hours on end, hated being terrified every night by the stupid animatronics.

He wanted his shift to be over immediately.

When the clock hit 6am he lets out a sigh of relief. His shift was finally over. He got up from his seat and hastily grabbed his things before booking it to his car.

He’s never wanted to leave the dingy pizzeria more. All he could think about was getting home and passing out in his bed.

Abby would be fast asleep by now and you’d probably be passed out on the couch.

He was so thankful to have found such a wonderful babysitter. You clicked soo well with Abby and you put up with his ungodly work hours.

You’re amazing with Abby, always making sure she has fun when you’re over.

Wether it was making a fort in the living room and watching Disney movies together, or drawing all of your’s and Abby’s favourite characters, or baking cookies or even going out to the nearby park, Abby would always tell Mike how much fun she had.

You also have a particular knack in getting her to eat all of her dinner and getting her in bed.

Mike had no idea how you could do it and asked you how you did it. You weren’t exactly sure about how you get her to eat but you told him that to get her to bed on time you made sure to tuck her in with her favourite plushy before reading her a bedtime story and she was out like a light.

Unfortunately, your methods didn’t quite work when he tried them.

Mike wished he was more well off so he could pay you fairly, but he doubts that he could get you to accept any kind of payment.

He had payed you in the beginning, of course, but he got behind on his payments due to some financial difficulties. You eventually found this out and refused any sort of payment from then on.

He’s half convinced that you’re an angel sent from heaven. You’re so understanding towards his situation and after working for him for many months you became an essential person in his and Abby’s life.

It took Mike a long time to admit to himself that he had a strong attachment towards you and even longer to admit that he liked you.

He couldn’t deny or brush off his feelings when after one shift, he found himself thinking about how he couldn’t wait to come home to you.

It startled him, how he could feel this way towards you, but it felt right to admit.

Mike didn’t realize it before but now, everything you do makes his heart flutter and his cheeks redden.

Those sweet playful smiles you flash him when you banter makes his heart skip a beat.

Every time you touch his arm reassuringly, or give him a gentle rub on the back or a hug he always gets goose bumps from just having you so close to him.

He wants to hold you closer, and for longer, just to keep feeling the warmth of your body against him. To feel your soft tits press against his chest.

God did he feel like a pervert, but he just can’t help himself. He finds you so god damn sexy and gorgeous.

His dirty fantasies of you had his cock growing hard in no time. He swears you’re teasing him, especially when you bend over in your tight jeans or shorts.

He can’t help but stare at your ass and imagine himself grabbing your hips and pressing his hard cock against the swell of your ass.

Or when he can see your hard nipples threw your shirt, all he can think about is sucking them until they’re hard and leaving them wet with his spit.

Fuck its was wrong, so so wrong to think of you that way. You’re just Abby’s baby sitter, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his thoughts from running wild.

Mike took a deep breath as he stopped at a red light. He couldn’t keep having these thoughts about you. Especially not on the road.

He finally makes it home and parks beside your car in the driveway.

He enters his house as quietly as he can and closes the front door with extra care as to not make a ruckus.

“Mike?” You call out from where you’re laying on the couch.

“I’m home, Y/n.” he says quietly as he takes his shoes off.

“How was your shift?” You asked as you sat up and stretched, groaning quietly.

Mike clenches his jaw, the way you groaned sounded so sinful, “Awful. Like usual.” He said plainly and takes his vest off and throws it on a spare chair.

“Are you hungry? There’s Shepard’s pie in the oven for you if you want to eat. I can make you a plate” You offered as you got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen.

He stares at you, taking in the tight little grey pj set you’re wearing, before stuttering out, “Th-thanks, you really didn’t have to-“

“Mike. I need to make sure you eat to. Not just Abby.” You said as you grab an oven mit before opening the oven door.

Mike watched as you bent over to grab the dish. He watches your tight grey shorts ride up the swell of your ass, he can see the outline of your pussy as the material stretches over your crotch.

Fuck he was getting hard.

“I’m worried about you, you know..” you sighed as you made him a plate, “I don’t think this job is good for you.” You said as you handed him the plate and a spoon.

He swallows thickly as you come closer to him, “It’s fine- I’m just glad to have a job.”

He grabs his plate and spoon and sits down at the table.

You shook your head before sitting down next to him. “You know I’m here for you okay?” You say while rubbing his back.

“I know.” He nods before taking another spoonful of his food.

“Good.” You smile and stare at him sweetly.

Mike blushes, why do you have to look at him like that?

Your smile turns into a slight smirk upon noticing his blush, “Are you blushing?” You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“No-“ he looks at you wide eyed.

You giggle, “Are you embarrassed?”

“No its just-“ his gaze flickers between you and his food.

“Just what, Mikey?” You ask, resting your cheek on your fist.

He could feel his face getting hotter at the nick-name you just uttered, “Your just..” he trails off staring at his food, poking at it with his fork.

You stare at him expectantly.

He really wants to tell you how he feels, but he doesn’t want to ruin your what you have.

He shakes his head, “It’s nothing.. never mind.” He looks away shyly.

“You can tell me.” You rub his arm trying to persuade him to tell you what’s on his mind.

Mike sighs through his nose and shuts his eyes, trying to compose himself, “You should have left when I got here..” he says as he abruptly gets up from his seat.

You watched as he put his dishes in the sink, “Probably, but I need to make sure you’re taken care of.” You stand up.

“There’s no need. I can take care of myself.” He says curtly as he walks past you.

“Mike..” you grab his arm, turning him around. “You’re worrying me.. did I say something wrong?”

He felt his heart clench at the way you were looking at him.

“No you didn’t. It’s just a me problem, Y/n.” He looks off to the side as he shakes his head.

“Are you sure Mike? I’m sorry if I did. I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“ You start to ramble.

“Y/n. Hey, hey, hey. Im not mad at you okay?” He says sternly. “I’m just- I have feelings for you okay.” He painfully admits. “And I know it’s wrong but-“

“I have feelings for you too Mike..” You proclaim, a blush decorating your cheeks.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before you lean in and kiss his lips.

You pull way quickly, “sorry..” you whisper.

Mike grabs your cheek to pull you into a passionate kiss.

You’re surprised by this. You didn’t expect Mike to go in for another kiss let alone one so desperate, but you kiss him back none the less.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer.

The hand on your cheek moves to rest with his other hand on your waist. His thumbs stroked small circles on your skin.

“Mike~” you whisper breathily and press your forehead against his.

He groans at the way you say his name. “Been wanting to do this for so long..~” he muttered before kissing you again.

“Mmm..me too~” You mumble against his lips.

He presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before going down to suck and kiss at your neck. He leaves a trail of hickeys all over your neck and collar bones.

You slip your hands under his hoodie, “Mikey?~”

He shivers when your hands touch his bare torso, “Mm~ yes baby?”

“Can we..go to your room?” You manage to ask as Mike starts to get more touchy, his hands just inches from getting under your shirt.

It took a moment for him to process what you had requested and where the two of you were before he replied, “Oh- yeah.. yeah.” He says a bit flustered before picking you up and bringing you to his bedroom.

He lays you down on his plaid comforter and crawls on top of you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, Y/n~” he whispers as he takes you in laying on his bed.

Mike leans down to kiss you again, but more feverishly.

You clawed at his hoodie, trying to take it off as you made out.

“Mike- take it off please~” you pleaded.

He nods and takes his hoodie and the shirt he had underneath off in one swoop, leaving himself topless above you.

You bit your lip as your eyes raked over his bare chest. He looks so sexy panting above you with a lustful look in his eyes.

You squeezed your thighs together to ease the throbbing of your cunt and tangle your hands in his curls to pull him back down for a kiss.

“Baby..~” he mutters as you kept kissing each other, “let me take your top off..~” he asked, holding onto your shirt.

You whined, you didn’t want to stop kissing him. “Mkay~” you nod and put your arms up to help him out.

Mike takes your shirt off with ease and doesn’t waste anytime to grope your tits.

You gasp softly when he kisses the soft mounds and begins to suck on your right nipple.

The way he swirls his tongue around the soft bud made you moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth as he gives the other one the same treatment.

He pulled away from your nipple with a wet pop and kisses you once again.

“Need you Mike~” you mewl, as you grip his shoulder.

“Yeah?~” he said quietly.

You nod and try to push his pants down with you feet.

He pries your legs away from his hips and pulls your gray shorts off.

You let your legs fall open, completely revealing yourself to Mike.

His jaw drops at the sight of your glistening pussy. His cock couldn’t possibly get any harder.

“Fuck..~” he curses, “You have such a pretty pussy~” he licks his lips.

You blush and squirm a bit. You felt so vulnerable under his gaze.

“I need you Mike~” you reiterated desperately.

“I need you too baby.. so so fucking bad-“ he says as he fumbles with his belt.

He hastily takes his pants off and grabs his wallet out on the front pocket.

You watched as he rummaged through his wallet until he pulls out a condom.

He throws his wallet and pants to the side before ripping the foil open.

You quietly fingered yourself as you watched Mike roll the rubber onto his hard cock.

You took your fingers out of your cunt and reached forward to give Mike’s cock a few pumps using your slick as lube.

He groans, “Fuck baby.. that feels good..~” and smashes his lips against yours.

You wrap your arms around his back and your legs around his hips, “C’mon Mike~ I need you inside~” you whispered.

His dick twitched at your words. He lines the head of his cock to your slick entrance and pushes it inside.

“Oh.. fu-..Y/n~” Mike groans.

Your pussy is so warm and wet. It had been so long since he last had sex, he had to stop himself from cumming right away.

“Y/n you feel so good~” he mutters as he began to thrust into you.

You moan and tighten the hold your legs had on his hips, pulling him closer into your warmth.

Mike couldn’t stop himself from whining in pleasure as he thrusted faster into you.

“Gotta be quiet Mikey~” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss to quiet your noises.

He groans into your mouth and busies his hands by toying with your nipples.

“Keep.. doing that please~” you moaned quietly.

The way his thrusts were angled allowed his pubic bone to rut against your clit, and the head of his cock to repeatedly press against your g-spot.

You clawed at his back, trying to hold onto him while bliss over took you.

“Mikey!~ Mike!~ M’gonna cum!” You moan.

“Gonna.. cum too baby..~” he huffs, and reaches down to rub your clit.

“Oh fuck~ m’cumming!” You cry out.

Mike lifts his head out the crook of your neck to look at you while you came.

The mix of your blissed out face and the fluttering of your cunt pushes him to climax.

He moans as he cums, whimpering your name quietly as he fills the condom with his seed.

It takes a while before Mike pushes himself off of you to pull out. You whined in protest, you felt so empty without his cock inside of you.

He takes the condom off and disposes of it in his bathroom.

When he returns, you both get under the covers of his bed, and cuddle in your post-sex bliss.

You’re stroking his messy curls as you’re both falling asleep, when suddenly you’re rudely interrupted by Mike’s alarm.

His alarm to wake up to get Abby ready for school.

The end

[lila-lou]

✨Rough around the edges - Pt. 1✨

Summary: Jack's day couldn’t have gotten any worse. Exhausted from a grueling shift under the scorching sun, he just wanted to crash at home with some wings and a football game. But his plans for a quiet night were shattered when the racket from his new neighbor echoed through the walls.

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Warnings: Language, age gap

Word Count: 4385

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

"Fucking shit!", Jack grumbled as he yanked the heavy piece of wood back into place, his muscles straining from the sudden weight. His colleague had almost dropped it from his side, barely catching it in time. Jack's patience was wearing thin after hours of working under the hot sun. They were up on the fifth floor of a building still under construction, the framework barely holding together as they handed over beam after beam to meet the firm’s relentless deadline.

"Watch it, man", Jack muttered, glaring at his coworker, and best friend, who shrugged it off with a nervous chuckle. He wasn’t in the mood for apologies or excuses. He adjusted his grip, steadying the beam as they maneuvered it into place, his hands rough and worn from the constant grind. The city skyline stretched out in the distance, a reminder of how much work still lay ahead.

They were only halfway through the shift, and Jack could already feel the familiar ache settling into his shoulders. It wasn’t like he hated the job — he was good at it, and it paid the bills — but days like these made him wonder how long he could keep it up.

One misstep up here and things could go bad real quick.

A few hours later, as Jack made his way toward his car, the heat of the day still clung to him, though the sweat on his body had started to dry. His shirt stuck to his back, and every step felt like a reminder of the long, grueling hours spent on the site. His muscles ached, and all he could think about was getting home.

Just as he unlocked his car, he heard footsteps pounding behind him. Anthony, his best friend, jogged up with that usual grin plastered on his face. “Hey, man! You wanna grab a beer in town? Some of the guys are heading over to O’Malley’s”.

Jack groaned inwardly, barely holding back an eye roll. The last thing he wanted right now was to be surrounded by loud voices and more chaos. He glanced at Anthony and waved him off. "Dude, even my fucking balls are sweating. I'm beat to hell after this week".

Anthony laughed, clapping him on the shoulder, but Jack wasn’t in the mood.

“Nah, man. I’m heading home. All I wanna do is watch the football game, grab a bucket of wings, crack open a six-pack, and call it a night”. He paused and smirked, half-joking. “Might jerk off if I can stay awake long enough”.

Anthony let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Sounds like a hell of a night. Alright, man, catch you next time”.

Jack nodded, climbing into his car and slamming the door shut. As soon as the engine roared to life, he felt the weight of exhaustion settle over him. His mind was already on the couch waiting for him. Nothing fancy. Just a little peace, a little food, and maybe, if he wasn’t too worn out, a moment to himself before crashing into bed.

Half an hour later, Jack trudged up the stairs to his apartment, the bucket of wings tucked under his arm like a lifeline. His body ached with every step. Man, he was tired. All he wanted was to collapse on the couch.

As he reached the top of the stairs, nearing his door, a loud bang jolted him out of his thoughts. He froze, listening, and sure enough, there were more sounds—soft curses, followed by another series of thuds—coming from the apartment across the hall. The one that had been empty for months since the old lady who lived there had moved to a retirement home.

Jack paused, glancing over his shoulder at the door. Whoever it was clearly wasn’t having the smoothest move-in. He heard something fall again, accompanied by a muffled groan of frustration.

Jack groaned in annoyance, rubbing a hand across his face. Just great. As if the week hadn’t been exhausting enough, now he had to imagine his weekend being a noisy mess thanks to whoever was moving in. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Instead, it seemed like his weekend would be filled with endless bangs and thuds coming from across the hall.

Another loud thud echoed through the hallway, followed by a soft “Ouchy” that made him roll his eyes. He could already picture some clueless person fumbling around with boxes, knocking stuff over, and generally making a racket. The kind of person who probably had no idea how to move without turning it into a circus.

Jack shifted the bucket of wings under his arm, debating whether or not to knock on the door. Part of him wanted to just ignore it, retreat into his apartment, and hope for the best. But the other part, the more frustrated part, was tempted to knock and tell them to keep it down. He’d had a long week, and he deserved a break, damn it.

Finally, he took a deep breath and approached the door, raising his fist to knock.

Just then, the door swung open unexpectedly, and there you were, looking frazzled and clearly unprepared for company. You were wearing nothing more than a pair of shorts and a tank top, your skin glistening slightly from the heat. Your hair, a messy bun on top of your head, looked like it had been thrown together in a hurry, and you had no makeup on, not that you needed it.

Jack blinked, momentarily caught off guard, staring at the younger woman standing in front of him.

You, on the other hand, were equally surprised to see the man standing in front of you. He had to be at least double your age, but damn, he was handsome—broad-shouldered, his shirt sticking to his body in places from what looked like a long day of work, and those tired, slightly irritated eyes that made him seem like someone who didn’t put up with much nonsense.

“Uh… hi”, you blurted, your voice a little breathless from all the moving. You glanced down at the two boxes sitting in front of your door, which you had come out to grab. “Sorry about the noise. I swear, I’m almost done”.

Jack let out a deep breath. “Yeah, I was kind of wondering if you were trying to tear the place down before you even moved in”.

You laughed, a soft, self-conscious sound, running a hand over your face. “Feels like it. I’m not exactly an expert at this moving thing. Been here all day, and I’m pretty sure I’ve destroyed more stuff than I’ve unpacked”.

Jack’s eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of your casual shorts and tank top, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin. His gaze wasn’t lewd, but it was unmistakably assessing, like he was trying to figure you out. The tiredness in his eyes gave way to something more skeptical, maybe even judgmental. He crossed his arms, one eyebrow raising slightly as if he couldn’t believe someone as young as you could afford a place like this without some help from your parents—or worse, without a party lifestyle attached.

“You’re not planning on partying every day, though, right?”, Jack said, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion. His eyes lingered just a moment too long before meeting yours again. It was clear he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of noisy neighbors—especially younger ones.

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the implication. Seriously? He didn’t even know you, and already he was sizing you up like you were going to turn the building into a constant rave scene. You clenched your jaw, irritation bubbling up despite the exhaustion from moving.

“Uh, no”, you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. “I actually have to work. So no, I’m not throwing parties 24/7”.

His eyebrow quirked slightly at that, as if reassessing you now. He didn’t say anything, just gave a small grunt in response. It was hard to tell whether he believed you or not, but he didn’t press the issue.

You shifted uncomfortably, feeling judged by this man who you had just met. He was rude, but still frustratingly handsome, even if you hated to admit it. “Anyway”, you added, trying to keep the edge out of your voice, “I just moved in today, so I’m probably more exhausted than you are right now”.

Jack glanced at the boxes again, the annoyance in his posture easing just slightly. He seemed to realize that you weren’t what he’d assumed at first glance. “Fair enough”, he said after a moment. “I’m not trying to be a dick. It’s just been a long week, and I wasn’t expecting… all this noise”.

“Yeah, well, me neither”, you said, rolling your eyes and grabbing one of the boxes. “Last thing I wanted today was to turn my move into a construction site soundtrack”.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you before Jack let out a small sigh, as if he were finally letting go of the tension. “Alright”, he said, softer now.

With that, Jack simply turned around, seemingly content to let the conversation end there. His broad shoulders shifted as he took a few steps toward his door, the tension finally draining from the air between you. You stood there for a moment, watching him, still feeling a bit stung by the way he had sized you up but relieved that the exchange hadn’t escalated into anything worse.

“I’m Y/N, by the way”, you called after him, hoping to salvage at least a shred of neighborly civility. Maybe if you introduced yourself, it would take the edge off his attitude.

But he didn’t stop. He was already at his door, turning the knob without so much as glancing back. The heavy sound of the door slamming shut echoed in the hallway, leaving you standing there, feeling awkward and a little insulted. Clearly, Jack wasn’t the friendly type—or maybe he was just having a bad day.

You exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the box a little tighter as you shuffled it into your apartment. Shutting your own door behind you, you leaned against it for a second, shaking your head. Great, you thought, this is going to be an interesting neighbor dynamic.

Moving boxes and unpacking was hard enough, but now you had to deal with the grumpy guy across the hall. You couldn't help but wonder if he’d always be this much of a grump or if this was just his post-work exhaustion talking. Either way, you figured you wouldn’t be getting on his good side any time soon.

Meanwhile, Jack made his way into his apartment, the door closing behind him with a thud. He set the bucket of wings down on the counter, exhaling as he ran a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He couldn’t shake the image of you—frazzled, yet oddly composed—out of his mind. It annoyed him, mostly because he knew he’d been unnecessarily rude.

Shaking it off, he emptied the bucket of wings into his air fryer and set the timer. He had earned this meal after the week he’d had, and he wasn’t about to let anything ruin that. As the air fryer whirred to life, Jack peeled off his work shirt, which clung to his skin, then kicked off his boots as he headed toward the bathroom.

The mirror caught a glimpse of his reflection as he stripped down, his body still sore from the grind of lifting and hauling all day. He sighed, stepping into the shower, letting the hot water wash over him. It was like the heat and frustration of the day started to melt away the moment the water hit his skin.

Jack leaned his head against the tile, letting the water cascade down his back, rinsing away the grime.

Around two hours later, Jack sat slumped on his couch, the room dimly lit by the glow of the TV. The low sounds of a porn scene played in the background, but his mind was barely focused on the screen. His head rested back against the couch, his eyes half-lidded as he worked his hand around himself, having slipped out of his sweatpants. This was his way of letting off steam after a week like the one he’d just had.

It was routine by now—something easy, quick, and without the complications of dealing with a woman who might end up being clingy or demanding more than he was willing to give. This was uncomplicated, his way of zoning out and shutting off the outside world. No messy emotions, no obligations—just a quiet moment for himself.

Jack exhaled heavily, his hand moving in rhythm as the sounds from the TV filled the otherwise silent apartment. His muscles were still tired, but there was a certain release in this moment. The frustrations of the day, including the brief encounter with you, seemed distant now. This was about turning off everything for a little while—no thoughts, no stress, just the physical release he needed.

And after? He’d down the rest of his six-pack and knock out on the couch, forgetting the world entirely, at least for a few hours.

But Jack had planned it all without accounting for you. Just as he was about to finish, his stomach tightening with that familiar tension, the loud, jarring sound of a hammer hitting nails into the wall echoed through the apartment, shaking the thin wall behind his TV.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, Jack muttered, his mood immediately broken as the banging continued, louder now. He clenched his jaw, frustration boiling up again. He had been so close to just letting go of the entire day’s stress, and now this. The relentless thud of hammering kept going, pulling him completely out of the moment.

His hand stilled, and he slammed his fist against the side of the couch in frustration. Of course, he thought, it had to be the new neighbor. You were likely trying to settle in, oblivious to the fact that you were ruining what little escape he had. Jack exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face as he sat up, the mood thoroughly killed.

The hammering continued, and Jack could feel the tension in his body shifting from desire to pure annoyance. He thought about just letting it go, but every time the hammer hit, it felt like another push against his patience. Grumbling under his breath, he yanked his sweatpants back up and stood, glaring at the wall as if that would somehow stop the noise.

For a second, he considered banging on the wall in retaliation. But he knew that wasn’t going to help. Instead, he grabbed a T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head as he stormed toward the door.

Time to have a little chat about the noise.

Jack was beyond fucked up. His head was pounding with the frustration of being yanked out of the one bit of peace he’d managed to carve out for himself. The incessant hammering felt like a personal attack. His mind was still half-focused on the release he had been chasing, now replaced by a surge of raw anger coursing through him.

He stomped to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary. He didn’t care anymore if he looked like a pissed-off wreck. This was supposed to be his time to unwind, to shut the world out, and here you were, ruining it without even knowing. His thoughts raced, blending his frustration with the earlier judgment he’d passed on you. Young, new neighbor—probably clueless about the noise, or just didn’t give a damn.

He crossed the hallway with long strides, already regretting not saying something earlier when you’d first made a racket. Without bothering to calm down, Jack raised his fist and banged on your door with the same intensity as the hammering that had interrupted his night.

The hammering stopped suddenly, and Jack stood there, his jaw clenched, waiting. His breathing was still heavy, fueled by the adrenaline from both the frustration and the situation he had been pulled out of. He heard footsteps approach the door, and it opened to reveal you, looking slightly surprised and flushed, probably from all the effort of settling in. You still had that slightly frazzled look, your hair in a messy bun, and a hammer in hand.

“Hey, I—”, you started, but Jack cut you off before you could finish.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”. His voice was sharp, almost a growl. “I’ve had the longest fucking week, and all I wanted was to relax for once, but instead, I’ve got you hammering away like it’s a fucking championship".

You blinked, clearly caught off guard by the aggression in his tone. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”.

“Yeah, well, now you do”, Jack snapped. “Some of us don’t want to listen to that shit at this hour”.

You stood there for a second, staring at him. Then, with a deep breath, you said, “Look, I didn’t mean to bother anyone. I just moved in, and I’m trying to get this done before it gets too late. But I didn’t think it would be this loud. I can stop”.

Just then, a heavy crash echoed from inside your apartment, cutting the tense moment between you and Jack short. Both of your heads snapped toward the source of the noise—your bedroom. Your face paled as realization hit you.

“Oh no”, you whined under your breath, eyes wide in horror.

Jack leaned slightly to the side, peeking over your shoulder, and sure enough, he saw straight into your bedroom. The massive bookshelf you’d just tried to hang with nails was now lying crookedly on your bed, surrounded by scattered books and what looked like pieces of drywall that had fallen from the wall.

He stood there for a moment, staring, trying to process what he was seeing. Then, almost involuntarily, a muttered, “Are you serious?”, escaped his lips. The disbelief was clear in his tone, but there was also a flicker of amusement breaking through the anger. His lips twitched in the faintest hint of a smirk.

“You really tried hanging that… with nails?”, Jack asked, incredulous, but there was something different in his voice now—a touch of dry humor.

You flushed, your embarrassment reaching new heights as you buried your face in your hands for a moment, groaning. “I thought it would hold! I didn’t realize it was that heavy!”.

Jack huffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “That thing’s massive. Nails? Really? You need anchors or brackets for something like that. Not nails”.

You glanced up at him, your embarrassment deepening, but his tone had shifted enough that you felt less defensive. He wasn’t ripping into you anymore, at least. “I didn’t think it through, clearly”, you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “I just… I wanted to get it done, you know?”.

Jack exhaled, still standing in your doorway, but some of the anger and tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by the undeniable ridiculousness of the situation. He crossed his arms, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced from you to the chaotic scene in your bedroom. He seemed torn between frustration and reluctant amusement, clearly trying to figure out how he got roped into this situation. After a moment, he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, “If I put that stupid bookshelf on the wall… are you actually gonna go to fucking sleep after?”.

You blinked, surprised by the unexpected offer, and despite the roughness in his tone, there was a hint of something almost… helpful? You couldn’t tell if he was annoyed or just resigned to the situation. Either way, you couldn’t believe he was volunteering to help after everything.

You nodded quickly, still flustered. “Yeah, absolutely. I’ll be out of your hair for the rest of the night”.

Jack rolled his eyes but stepped back into the hallway. “Fine. Let me grab my tools. I’m not doing this again tomorrow”. He shot you a look as if to say, You owe me for this, and turned back toward his apartment.

As he disappeared into his place, you stood in the doorway for a second, a mix of relief and embarrassment washing over you. This wasn’t how you expected your night to go, but at least you weren’t completely on your own with the bookshelf disaster now.

A few minutes later, Jack returned with a drill, a level, and some heavy-duty wall anchors, looking every bit like the reluctant handyman he had somehow become tonight. “Alright”, he grumbled as he walked past you into your bedroom, “Let’s do this before I regret offering”.

You followed him into the room, standing awkwardly off to the side as he inspected the damage. He shook his head, muttering under his breath again. “Shit, the whole thing could’ve taken the wall down with it”.

You couldn’t help but let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah… definitely didn’t think it through”.

Jack just gave you a look before getting to work, drilling into the wall with quick efficiency. You watched in silence, half-grateful and half-embarrassed that this grumpy, tired stranger was now saving you from your own DIY disaster.

Within ten minutes, the bookshelf was back up, this time secured with proper brackets and anchors. Jack stepped back, giving it a firm tug to test its stability. “There. That’s not coming down unless you drive a truck through the wall”.

You grinned, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “Thank you. Seriously”.

Jack gave a half-shrug, packing up his tools. “Just keep it quiet, alright? I wasn’t kidding about the long week”.

You nodded, grateful. “I promise. No more hammering”.

“Next time, get your damn boyfriend to do that shit before you and your furniture end up breaking through my wall”, Jack muttered, nodding toward the picture frame sitting on top of a moving box. In the photo, you were smiling alongside a tall, athletic-looking guy with his arm wrapped around you. Jack’s comment was laced with a hint of irritation, but also that same dry humor you’d been getting used to.

Your smile faltered for a moment as your eyes followed his to the photo. Little did he know, that guy in the picture wasn’t in your life anymore—and that was the whole reason you had moved into this place. The sting of your breakup surfaced briefly, the memory of catching him cheating on you still raw. You swallowed hard, quickly deciding not to let Jack in on that painful detail. It wasn’t like he needed to know, and the last thing you wanted was pity from a man who had barely tolerated your existence for the last few hours.

“I’m Jack”, he grumbled, finally acknowledging your earlier introduction. It was a reluctant gesture, his voice still rough with exhaustion, as though even saying his name was a chore. He barely looked at you as he muttered it, his eyes already shifting toward his door like he couldn’t wait to escape the interaction.

Before you could respond or even offer a polite “nice to meet you”, he was already halfway back to his apartment. The door closed with a soft click behind him, leaving you standing there in the quiet hallway, feeling the weight of everything settle on your shoulders again. His abruptness wasn’t surprising, but it still stung a little after the tense back-and-forth of the evening.

You let out a sigh, glancing back at the photo on the box. Jack, you thought, rolling his name over in your mind. He was clearly rough around the edges, quick to frustration, but at least he hadn’t been completely heartless. He’d helped with the bookshelf, after all—something he absolutely didn’t have to do.

You stood there for a moment longer, gathering your thoughts. The apartment felt quiet now, too quiet, after the chaos of the last few hours. The silence brought your mind back to why you’d moved in the first place, and without meaning to, you found yourself thinking of your ex again—how easily he'd broken your trust, how it had shattered everything you'd built together.

You shook your head, pushing the memories away. This was a new start, and you weren’t going to let thoughts of him ruin it. No more looking back.

Turning back to the room, you tidied up the last of the scattered books and straightened out the bedding. As you moved around, Jack’s gruff demeanor kept replaying in your mind—his judgmental comments, his unexpected offer of help, and the brief glimpse of amusement when the bookshelf came crashing down. You couldn’t quite pin him down, and that intrigued you in a way you weren’t expecting.

By the time you were ready to settle into bed, you found yourself glancing at the wall you shared with Jack’s apartment, half-expecting to hear some noise, but it was completely silent. You lay down, pulling the covers over you, and for the first time in a while, you felt a strange sense of calm. Despite the chaos of the night, the disaster with the bookshelf, and the awkward introduction to your grumpy neighbor, things didn’t feel quite as overwhelming as they had earlier.

Maybe this place would turn out to be a fresh start after all.

———————————

A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. This story will definitely be a multi-part one.

I guess there will be also more from Jack in the future.

Please let me know what you think.🥰

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Part 2

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Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @cheynovak @ookidoki @deans-spinster-witch @n-o-p-e-never @riah1606 @stoneyggirl2 @saintnourah

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 3

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), praise kink? WC: 6.7k AN: y'all i am SO proud of this chapter!! i'm so so so excited for you all to read it, i loved writing it so much. thank you all so so so much for the love you have been giving this fic, it means the absolute world to me. requests and asks open, as always!

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, [Ch. 3], Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6

Chapter 3: Bonding

In the morning, you woke up slowly, with the taste of night-old beer and regret in your mouth. And also a splitting headache. But your bed was really warm, much warmer than usual, and you snuggled into the covers for another minute. Just one more. And then you realized that it wasn't the covers you were snuggling into, but a person. A person who had their arms wrapped around you. The memories surged back--Anakin, the loud music, truth or dare, kissing him, straddling him, his body against yours. You patted his arm a few times, suddenly completely awake. He let out a low noise of annoyance, but you kept tapping him.

"Five more minutes," he groaned, deeper and gruffer than usual. In that voice, you could hardly refuse him. Five more minutes, fine. With his nearness, warm and stable against you, your heart was beating at a thousand miles an hour. You thought back to the night before, how hard he was for you and how smooth and warm his skin had been under your fingers when you teased below his shirt. Those thoughts would have made you horny beyond belief--fuck you right then and there, maybe--but you had the joy of a massive headache that blocked all of those fun thoughts. The light was too bright to close your eyes and drift off, so all you could do was turn around, awkwardly shifting underneath his arm, to look at him.

Anakin had little freckles on his cheekbones, you realized when you looked at him up close. When his face was completely relaxed like this, he had a kind of ethereal serenity about him. You feared that, if you didn't hold him tightly enough, he'd run away and jump into the sea like a selkie, never to be seen again. He was almost inhuman in that moment, all sharp angles and full lips. The morning light kissed his skin like it came from some radiance within him. He wasn't just handsome in the college-jock kind of way, he was truly and deeply beautiful, you realized.

Calling this Anakin a dumbass, an asshole, or a motherfucker felt just wrong. It would be like calling the stars in the sky boring. Laughably silly. With his jaw slack from sleep, he was a marvel, a gift from nature itself, molded and crafted into a careful, wonderous machine of blood, feelings, and thoughts. And he was laying there with you. If this Anakin wanted the prize, the money, the job, whatever, you would give it over in a heartbeat. All of that just didn't matter in this moment. And that was terrifying.

As quickly as you could, you tried to ground yourself in what was really important to you. Creating something meaningful. Winning. You reminded yourself all the times Anakin called your work amateurish, or the way he still denied damaging Barriss's bot. The way he'd raise his hand to argue that your answer was wrong in lecture during second year. Other images flashed in, unbidden. Anakin's kind eyes when he realized you were upset, before your first kiss. Anakin's sweet voice last night, full of respect for you. The way his teammates obviously respected him. You willed your mind to go back to his smug smile and the way he hogged the soldering station.

Anakin shifted a bit, then opened his bleary eyes to the morning light. It wasn't that late, you knew based on the fact that Ahsoka hadn't pounded down your door, but it was a Sunday, so maybe she didn't intend to. You reached for your phone on your nightstand, which was mercifully alive but hanging on for dear life at 3%. There was a text message from Ahsoka.

Slept over at TKD on the couch, heard u got home safe! ;) Go get some!

Ah. So she clearly thought you and Anakin had fucked. Not that you minded, really. Even if he was an asshole, or if you felt however you did about him, he was still hot. You definitely intended to screw his brains out as soon as you felt better. You tapped him again.

"Mmm, good morning," he mumbled out, "what time is it?" You clicked on your phone.

"11:55," you told him. He bolted upright.

"Shit, we slept through breakfast," he said. He was right, you had. Not that you got breakfast much. You shrugged. Anakin's eyes passed over you, catching your mussed hair, the smudges of mascara surrounding your eyes, and last night's now disheveled dress, then appeared to realize that he was, indeed, pantsless in your bed.

"How are you feeling?" His voice was hushed, tentative. He wasn't saying it outright, but you both knew the question was actually do you regret last night? You took a moment before answering him, trying to find the most correct phrasing for how you felt about it. About him.

"Honestly, I--" you started. His eyes widened, and he read into your hesitation a bit too much. Anakin got out of bed instantly, a gesture that would have been more dignified if he didn't have to shimmy out of the comforter and then hop over you to do so. The lack of his warm weight behind you made you feel oddly empty.

"I knew it, I'm so sorry. I'll leave now, I just--" Anakin said as he grabbed his jeans and started putting them on. Were you imagining it, or was he flushed red in embarrassment? It was kind of cute.

"God, you're stupid. Get back here," you said, motioning for him to come back. Anakin paused, his jeans pulled halfway up, then caught your eye. Based on your annoyance, he sensed that this probably wasn't a get-away-from-me type of conversation, so he finished putting his jeans on and buttoning them, then sat down on the edge of your bed. He was still tentative, like if he said or did the wrong thing, this moment would disappear. Anakin perched carefully on the edge of your bed, as far from you as mathematically possible. He probably had run calculations in his head, you thought.

"I was just saying that I'm too hungover, but we should still… Just not right now. My head is killing me." As you spoke, a smile grew on his face, but then he tried to hide it by pressing his lips together, an effect you would have thought worked better if he wasn't so horrible at it.

"Oh," he said, still obviously elated, but then his expression turned to concern, and he scooched an inch closer to you. "Do you have any Tylenol, or, like, electrolytes here?" You shook your head, and he rolled his eyes. "Of course not." He didn't seem to think you capable of planning in advance, which flared annoyance inside you, but you decided to tamp it down. For now.

"Nah, I think I just need water and food. I'm gonna head down to lunch once I get dressed, then the lab," you told him through a yawn.

"Already? You practically live there," he laughed. Nerd, his tone cried.

"Big words from someone who is always there before me," you said reflexively. The retort had come out of your mouth as easily as breathing, and you hoped he didn't hate you for it.

"Touche," he said, though there wasn't any annoyance in it, just a smile. A silence fell between the two of you, and, unlike most times, it was comfortable. You weren't fuming, which was definitely a new one. Anakin looked down at his hands resting on his thighs, then seemed to work up the courage to say something.

"Look, before you go downstairs, can we talk? Actually talk?" What on Earth did that mean?

"You go first," you said. What did he want to talk about? As far as you were concerned, your positions were clear. Maybe you'd fuck tonight, maybe not, and then he'd be out of your system. You could get back to work. Something twinged in your chest, but it was from your hangover.

"Okay, so, um. I think you know that, even though you're literally the worst, I am… attracted to you. Somehow. And that I'd like to, y'know. Do stuff. I just feel weird about it because of the competition," Anakin said. His confession that he was attracted to you stirred something inside you, but you ignored it.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, like, I don't know about you, but if we… did things. I think I'd feel more upset if you won. Not that you will, to be clear, but if someone sabotaged my project and cut off my hands, you might have a shot." You snorted, then smacked his shoulder. He held up his hands, defensively, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

"But, I think I'd also feel weird when I win. You've been really helpful. At staying late so that I can use machines, to be clear. So I've been thinking, we're engineers, right? And, most of what we do is optimize. So why don't we optimize this competition? Maybe we could split the prize money. Because if I don't win, you do, and I need that money. Like, really need. And I'd rather get something than nothing at all if you win, and, for that insurance, I'm willing to let you have some of my prize money. And, in exchange, we help each other as much as possible to make sure that the two of us get first and second place."

Initially, you bristled. Giving away some of your hard-earned prize? That motherfucker was trying to take away from your victory. But, then again, with the way your tests were going now, there was no certainty that you'd be able to produce a working prototype by March. And, if you didn't, he'd probably win. Souring his win just a little would probably feel really good, you reasoned, given how full of himself he was now. The idea wasn't horrible, you thought. You decided to be honest, even though it almost killed you.

"You'll only hear me say this once--and don't you dare tell fucking anyone--but I don't know if I'll win. It's probably rigged in your favor, anyway." You ignored the indignant "hey!" Anakin let out, and continued. "So sure. That works for me."

You held out your right hand for him to shake. The sight was probably hilarious, given that you were still in bed with last night's dress and last night's makeup, but you were deadly serious. Anakin shook your hand, still smiling, and then pulled you up.

"C'mon, get dressed. Don't wanna miss lunch, too, or else we'll never see the lab in the daytime!"

Two hours later, you found yourself on the shuttle to the engineering building. You'd probably walk back long after the shuttle system stopped running, so you wanted to spare yourself one walk in the biting cold. Anakin was sitting next to you--the two of you and Ahsoka had eaten together, and you had spent most of the time getting questioning glances from her. His thigh was warm against yours in the cramped shuttle seats, and you caught him smiling at you once, which made your heart flutter.

You were not alone in the lab. You decided not to question why that was disappointing. On the upside, you got to see Barriss, who was in the corner of the lab, tapping something out on her phone. When she saw you, she came up to you and asked you about how you were doing, and you answered honestly. Tired.

Asajj was on the other side of the room and shot you a glance, but you ignored it. She wasn't your favorite member of the engineering department, but she was an environmental engineer. Not your circus. In the few classes you'd shared, she was kind of a bitch, actually. Barely acknowledged you. She narrowed her eyes at Anakin when he followed you into the lab.

You kept chatting with Barriss for a while, catching up. You felt like you hadn't seen her in ages, especially since she got a job working as an admin assistant for the department. She told you about her new idea for a thesis, some sort of collapsible electric bicycle, and how she was trying to make a better replacement for electric scooters. She pulled up her chair to sit next to your lab bench while you tinkered with your prototype, peppering in some questions about it. You lied through your teeth. It was going great, actually. You were more than on track. You had passed your initial tests with flying colors. Right as she was about to leave, you had worked up the nerve to say the truth, that you were terrified of how it was going. She would be the only person you'd ever admit that to--God knows you wouldn't tell Anakin.

Well, actually, now that you were in your agreement, maybe you could. The idea made you feel scared, honestly. What if he sent you on a wild goose chase? While you were thinking, Barriss said goodbye and rushed off to go get a late lunch, leaving just you, Anakin, and Asajj in the lab.

Now that Barriss was gone, you let yourself deflate. Pretending to do something productive while she watched killed you a little bit, and you found yourself not wanting to do anything else today. Maybe eat some pasta and sleep. Anakin came up to your bench a few times, checking to see how stuff was going, but you weren't really feeling up to engaging with him. You fended off his questions for several hours as you agonized over your failed test, checking the software's code over and over. It still worked on all the test cases other than the one where it really mattered, the one that took it from being a model on your computer to a device that looked at real, physical eyes. Sometime right before dinner, Anakin came up to your desk again, looking frustrated.

"Hey," his voice was low, so that Asajj couldn't hear. "Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

"Why do you want me to?" You couldn't help it. You were being defensive, and you felt guilty the moment the words left your lips. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Because…" he trailed off, expression inscrutable, then continued after a moment, "We promised to help each other. I just want to help, honest." You studied his completely earnest face, so open. You faltered, for a moment. Even though you'd had that nice conversation earlier, you couldn't help but still see his face biting out a mean comment, or his sweet smile when he told you the circuit design you had drawn in freshman year for your final project looked fine, even though it had glaring errors. You could handle this on your own. Maybe, just maybe, if you got desperate, you could ask him. But not right now.

"I--It's fine. I think I just need to work on it a bit more." That seemed to placate him, all the way until you told him that you were going to go back home, to have dinner and study, then call it a night. He gave you that same inscrutable expression, which was kind of starting to annoy you, and wished you luck.

You, in fact, did have dinner, but you couldn't study. The equations swam in front of your eyes, all of them turning into questions of focal distance and refraction. You tried for two hours, and it was nine already, so you decided to switch tasks. Maybe now you would make some progress on your thesis.

And, so, the minutes ticked past as you sat alone in your bedroom, flipping through pages and googling random things like "refraction of printer paper." Ahsoka was studying for some exam she had tomorrow, and she said she'd be out late at the library, so you had room to spread out. You found yourself pouring cups of tea in the kitchen more often than was technically productive, and, more than a couple of times, you wanted to throw your prototype against a wall.

It was 11 when you caved and texted Anakin for help. It had been almost a week since you had this issue, and you were really getting to be behind, so this qualified as desperate. And if he was going to make fun of you, so be it. You cringed a bit when you saw that his contact name was still Asshole, a change made in anger in junior year when he called your group project idea the most boring thing he'd ever heard.

You: U up?

Asshole: bffr did you actually just send me a u up text Asshole: yes i am up

You: Can you come over? You: To help with an optics question

Asshole: yes Asshole: be there in 10

You: Thank you

Asshole: course

You changed his contact name back to Anakin. He deserved that much, at least. And, in the ten minutes before he came, you changed into some kind of lacy set of lingerie you'd bought the last time you went clubbing. Just in case. When you were with Anakin, there was always a chance things would go there, even if you called him over for a math issue. You threw your favorite comfortable pair of shorts back on, along with a loose Coruscant U shirt.

When he arrived, looking upsettingly hot in the bomber jacket, white t-shirt, and jeans he was wearing, you led him to your room, trying not to imagine the other reasons you might bring him there at night. Once he understood what your project was trying to do, his fingers scrolled the code you had written. He asked the right questions about various modules you'd used, then turned his attention to the hardware. He re-ran the tests, then grabbed your prototype and moved your detector around the room a bit.

Twenty minutes later, he had a diagnosis.

"I'm afraid the reason your machine doesn't work is that… you're stupid."

"What?" If you didn't need his help so badly, you would have smacked him.

"Yeah, look. First of all, you're getting a false negative from the fact that your code says to output a 'no glaucoma' response whenever it doesn't see glaucoma. So you could point it at the wall and it'd tell you that it doesn't have glaucoma, because, technically, it doesn't. And it's not reading either of these images accurately because, look, when you hold the paper like this," he lifted it up at a diagonal, "you can see that there's some reflection of light off the ink you used to print it. There isn't that in the training images you showed it, so it doesn't read it right. I bet if you did this whole thing on an actual eye with glaucoma, not a printed picture, you'd be fine," he said. "You've spent so much time hooking up the camera that you didn't spend enough time on making a good test, that's all. And, also, you need to make sure there's a way for the program to recognize whether something is an eye or not. That would also be helpful."

A certain calm took over him when he started explaining, like you saw in him when he was doing something particularly difficult. Those were the moments you found him most attractive, and, right now, the first time he was helping you for no other reason than that you asked, you thought this might be the most attractive you've seen him. His hands, gesturing. His eyes, sparkling. I want to kiss him. The thought propelled you to stand up, so that you were closer to his height.

"Thank you, Anakin. I mean it. As much as it hurts to admit… you're probably right," you said. After a beat, you continued, your voice lower than before. "And I'm really glad you came tonight." The confession slipped out of your lips like a secret, quick and quiet. Anakin's body was so close to you, you could have pressed yourself against him if you just leaned forward.

"You're welcome," he said in the same husky tone, his gaze flitting from your eyes to your lips. The air was charged with something, some kind of magnetic pull between the two of you. His softness toward you was new, exciting. Your hand reached out, brushing his wrist before finding his hand. When his eyes widened and he shuddered out a breath, it was like a jolt of lightning. He wanted you, badly. So badly even you could tell. The previous times you had done this, it'd been the heat of the moment driving you. Now, you weren't sure how to get from here to making him horny. This was soft, almost romantic, not angry and sexy and intense. What could you say?

"So, um. Wanna watch something?" Your suggestion was a little bit stupid, but Anakin's lips pressed together as he tried to subdue giggles. He failed, and started full-on cackling. You felt your whole face get warm from embarrassment. Well, damn. There goes that.

"Did you really actually for real just ask me to Netflix and chill with a straight face?" He was almost wiping away tears, apparently. Jesus Christ, you were just trying to break the ice. You smacked his upsettingly hard chest in annoyance.

"Stop laughing! Or else I'll--" you were trying to find some threat, something to say that would actually get him to shut up, when he jumped in.

"You'll what? What are you gonna do about it?" Something in his voice morphed, mocking, and though he was smiling, it reminded you more of the expression an animal makes before catching its prey. Self-satisfied. Smug. So, so fucking handsome.

You didn't need another second before you slammed into him, kissing him with a kind of fever you had only imagined. He'd been riling you up for days, weeks, months at this point, and you were finally going to get him inside you. Your hands found their way into his hair while he pulled you to him by your lower back. When you gently tugged, he let out a little noise deep in his throat and started nudging you toward the bed. The effect you had on him was overpowering, addicting. And, if you were being honest, he was riling you up just as much. His thumbs were playing with the skin that was directly under your tank top, sending little fires to your core.

You finally reached the bed, still kissing sloppily, and then he pushed you down onto it before connecting your lips again and climbing over you. Though he was hovering over you, supported by his arms, Anakin kept his hips just out of reach. You horribly, horribly wanted to feel that hardness pressing against you again. You trailed your hands down his chest, all the way until you reached the button of his jeans. You ghosted your hand over his length, trapped against him in his jeans, and he let out a hiss of air.

"Be patient," he said, going back down to kiss you. He notably didn't remove your hand, but you decided there was something else you'd like to explore first, anyway. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moved your hand up his shirt, running your fingers everywhere they could reach. He was taut and warm, so smooth as you felt the divots of his stomach and the clenched muscles in his chest. You knew he was an athlete, but he was properly built in a lean and strong sort of way. You could have sworn you felt abs under your hand, which was only confirmed when he quickly pulled away from you, then shrugged off his shirt. Anakin could have been carved from marble. Even though you were drunk on him, a piece of you recognized the same otherworldly sense from that morning. Like a statue of Apollo had broken out of stone and stepped into your life, still above you and staring down with such intensity that it made you shiver.

His hands came up under your tank top, sliding up your stomach before they reached your bra. Tentative, warm fingers slipped under the wire and grazed the bottom of your breasts. A positively embarrassing moan slipped out of you. He chuckled against your neck and brought his hands further up until his fingertips traced your nipples. The moan that followed was even needier, and you didn't even care.

"Stop teasing me, Anakin, please take it off," you whined, pressing your chest up into his hands and lifting your arms above your head. He didn't need to be asked twice, and slipped one hand behind your back to unclip your bra--with some ease, which surprised you. Everyone you'd been with before had struggled at least a bit, but apparently Anakin was a natural. You briefly wondered how many other people he'd slept with, but you abandoned the thought when jealousy flared in you. Anakin then brought his hands back down to the hem of your tank top before pulling it off above you, then gently guiding the straps of your bra down, finally exposing you. His eyes over you, hungry, starving.

"Fuck, you're so pretty. You have no idea what you do to me," he groaned before leaning down to your collarbone and trailing wet kisses down until he reached your nipple. His wet, warm tongue darted out to circle your sensitive skin. His right hand came up to play with the other, pinching and pulling and twisting until you were mewling. Then, he let his mouth trail even lower, kissing down until he was right above the drawstring of your shorts.

"Can I take these off, baby?" He was looking up at you with that smirk, the one that meant he knew you wouldn't say no. Of course you wouldn't. You nodded feverishly, and he undid your shorts and drew them down your legs. As he did so, the word stuck in your head. Baby. Did he mean that? Either way, you weren't going to question the way it slicked your pussy. Your shorts landed somewhere at the foot of the bed, but you didn't care. You were too busy watching Anakin take in the lacy underwear you had on.

"Damn. Do you have someone else coming over, or was this all for me?" His tone was light, but he was looking at your pussy like a man possessed. He was practically drooling.

"Shut up, Skywalker, and just take them off." He did so, happily, hooking his fingers under the waistband and drawing them down your legs until they were all the way off. If you thought he was staring before, he was practically glued to you now. One of his hands came up to rub your upper thigh before he drew it closer, inward. By the time he got close your pussy, you were thrusting up and trying to get him to touch you, rub you, finger you, whatever. As long as he put his hand on you, you'd stop feeling so sensitive and needy. But then his finger trailed up to your other knee, perfectly skipping your pussy. That motherfucker. You groaned, and you swore you could hear him chuckle. Asshole.

"Look how soaked you are. Is this all for me?" He was sin itself, a demon sent from hell to tempt you. Well, it was working. You nodded. There wasn't any shame or anger left, just a desperate need to be touched where you wanted it. Needed it.

He trailed one finger to your clit, then ran it down the rest of your slit, letting it linger right on the opening of your pussy. He tapped it once, twice, and it made a wet slapping sound that would have made you a little embarrassed had you been less turned on. But this was Anakin, and he was clearly enjoying this as much as you were, if the rock-hard outline in his jeans was any indication.

Anakin slid the finger inside you and groaned at the feeling of your pussy clenching down on him as he curled it upward. His thumb came to play with your clit, and you blurted out his name. His eyes shot to you as he took in a ragged breath. So he liked it when you said his name, got it.

And then he lowered his mouth onto your clit, and his name came out of you immediately. When his tongue started moving, fast and warm, rubbing little circles into your clit, you started chanting his name like a prayer. He added another finger inside you, stimulating you everywhere. Your hands tangled into his hair. This had to be the best head you'd ever gotten, you realized. The last person to go down on you was probably your boyfriend in junior year, and he was sloppy and got tired quickly. It almost felt like he couldn't wait for it to stop. Anakin, on the other hand, ate you like it was worship. You could tell he was reading you, then changing what he was doing when he saw a good reaction he wanted to repeat. If there was a movement you liked, he would find it and do it again and again until your legs shook.

Words spilled out of you. Telling him how good it felt, how much you wanted him. Things you would never say, only think, if he wasn't destroying you. You thanked your lucky stars Ahsoka was out, because not even three walls between you would be able to muffle your moans. You grabbed his hair particularly viciously as you were getting close, and he groaned against you before somehow getting even faster with his tongue, finally bringing you over the edge. Pleasure washed over you, and the world was still for a moment before the first wave of your orgasm hit. And, when it hit, you let out a moan so loud you were sure the neighbors could hear. You didn't even try to hide it from Anakin, who could definitely feel you twitching and clenching around his fingers.

"Fuuuuuuck, baby. You look so pretty when you cum," he said as he pulled away a bit, before pressing a kiss against your inner thigh while your legs shook around him. You caught your breath, but your pussy was still hungry. Demanding. Anakin got up from between your legs, still panting, his chin covered in a combination of spit and pussy juice. You took a mental snapshot for later reference. His eyes were so wild, and you knew you were about to get fucked like never before. Anakin was back over you, and you reached out your hand to the hard flesh that was practically bursting out of his jeans. As soon as you grazed it, he grunted, looking you straight in the eyes.

"You want it?" You nodded as fast as you can. Anakin smirked in that way that usually pissed you off, but now it just made you wetter. "Tell me how bad," he commanded. You didn't know where the words came from, but, once they started, they didn't stop.

"Fuck me, please Anakin. Please. I've waited so long and--I, Fuck. I need you inside me, more than anything in the whole fucking world, please," you begged. His jaw clenched as he smiled, obviously satisfied by your answer. He popped open the button of his jeans before undoing the fly and pulling both them and his boxers off in one go.

His cock almost made you drool, and you vowed to have it in your mouth next time. You'd had this one boyfriend, and you had sworn to all your friends that he was the biggest you'd ever had, seven inches. Anakin blew him out of the water. He was at least eight, if not more, and girthy enough that you wondered if you could even wrap your lips around him. The light skin of his shaft had purple and blue veins that snaked upward, and you longed to taste them. He was leaking a bead of precum, which he smeared across his head with his thumb.

Anakin turned around and pulled a condom out of his jeans. Had he planned this? Did he come here, knowing, hoping that you two would finally fuck? He obviously caught your weird look, and looked at you with knowing eyes.

"What, did you think I didn't know exactly why you wanted me here tonight?" Anakin chuckled, and you had the good decency to look a little bit embarrassed, but he rejoined you on the bed quickly enough that it didn't really matter.

"Damn, you look fucking amazing like this," he breathed, a little bit wonderous as he looked down at you, your legs spread for him. He situated himself between your legs, then wasted no time teasing you before he thrust into you with a loud moan. You let out a strangled sound, finally full to the brim with his cock, which was hitting parts of you that your fingers never could. And then he moved, and every nerve in your body was on fire. Your jaw opened, slack, as he pressed his forehead to yours and drilled into you. You were so wet from his spit that everything was sliding just right.

"Shit, you feel so fucking good. I'm not gonna last at this rate," he grunted out as he sped up.

"I don't care, Anakin, just fuck me," you moaned out. His hips slammed into yours, finally giving you what you'd been fantasizing about when you were alone. You relished the way his eyes squeezed shut, the hot breaths he huffed out, trying to stave off his release. He was fast and efficient, but listened to your reactions as he fucked you, adjusting angles until you were making the loudest noises you had that night. It felt like he was stretching you out, filling you up until there was no more air left in your body. Then, suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you empty and wanting.

"Ride me," he growled. You scrambled to sit up, and he sat himself up against your headboard so that you were in his lap. Using your tired thighs, you lifted yourself up just enough for him to slip back in, which he did with ease as you both let out moans. You started raising and lowering your hips on him, working your way slowly so that he was fully inside you. From this angle, he was even deeper, if that was possible. Anakin's hands came up to grab your ass, squeezing it and occasionally giving it a gentle smack. You sped up, and words started tumbling out of his lips.

"Fuck, you don't know how much I wanted to do this at that stupid fucking party. You looked so fuckin' hot, I almost came when you sat on me," he confessed before letting out a particularly loud moan. You thought back to the way he was looking at you at the party, and it was the same glare he was casting you now. Like he'd give anything to be with you, like he was desperate for you. And he was. He kept repeating your name and how good he felt as you bounced on him.

"Shit, baby, I'm close," he gritted out. You could see it in the way his eyes squeezed, his brow furrowed, and his arms clenched around you. Your thighs burned, but you got faster. You were going to make him cum as hard as you possibly could. Soon enough, his breathing got faster, louder, letting moans fall from his lips freely. Then, he came so powerfully you swore you could feel it too. His hips twitched and jerked up into you as spurt after spurt shot out of him and into the condom. He threw his head back against your headboard, scrunching his eyes shut and moaning out your name. You could feel every twitch of his cock, every jump of his muscles under you. It was joy itself.

Once he finished cumming, you lifted yourself up and let his cock slide out of you. He was still panting, flushed and sweaty, but he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. Your head was resting against his chest, his left arm around you, as he pulled off the condom and tied it off, tossing it into your bedside trash. Both of you were a little bit more recovered, but your voice was still hoarse when you spoke.

"Fuck, that was amazing," you said. And it was. It really, truly was the best sex you had ever had. Anakin seemed equally as happy when he looked down at you with that soft, tender look in his eye.

"Really?" You gave him a little mhmm before he continued, "I feel bad I came so early. It's just, it's been a while for me." The confession came quickly. Like he almost wasn't sure whether to say it, but you were glad he did. You felt the same way.

"Me too, like six months. You?" The hand on his chest traced patterns across his stomach.

"Two years," he answered, like it was nothing.

"What?!" You expected him to say a month or two, maybe three at maximum. How could a guy who fucked that well stay celibate for that long? There was no way this was his first time back after so long. It was just impossible. He obviously saw the shock on your face, then elaborated.

"Yeah, since I broke up with my ex, I just… haven't found someone I wanted to do it with." Anakin was gazing at you with such affection that, for just a second, you thought it might be love.

"Until me." You didn't know where the words came from, but he didn't seem to mind. Part of you just wanted to hear him confirm it.

"Until you," he added as he gave your forehead a kiss. You lay there, your legs entwined and your hand rubbing patterns on his stomach while his pet your hair, in a happy, contented silence. The minutes passed, and his breathing slowed back to normal, but the look he was giving you didn't change. It was terrifying. You found yourself saying something to cut off the thought.

"Hey, you wanna know something funny?" You asked. Anakin, entangled in you, cast you a questioning look.

"What?"

"Check the pocket of my pants," you said. He pulled his arm out from under you, then got out of the bed and found your shorts behind your chair. From their right pocket, he pulled out a condom, and then burst out laughing. You joined him, and, in the moment, you felt like you were on the same team, the two of you against the world. The feeling only intensified when he kissed your forehead, still smiling.

"I'm gonna go get us something to clean up. Be back in a second," he said as he pulled on his boxers and pants again, before leaving the room to go find your bathroom.

He returned a few minutes later with a towel, soft and warm under his fingers. One of your washcloths, which he'd run under warm water to keep it comfortable. As he cleaned you up, then waited for you to use the bathroom, you wondered when he became so caring. So considerate and sweet. But maybe he had been that way the whole time, you thought as he put his arm around you in the bed. His skin against yours felt amazing, even better than it did during sex. For the first time, as you drifted off with your head against his chest, you wondered if being with him like this could happen more often. Maybe all the time. And then the words slipped from your mind, like footprints in sand on a beach, before you finally fell asleep.

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