#read the books with their fucking eyes closed

[hoffmansgirl]

𓍯 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ' . . . nicholas alexander chavez my emotions are naked, they're taking me out of my mind

⸝⸝⸝ 𓏲 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. . . nicholas a. chavez x fem!reader

a/n. this took almost 2 months to complete but i'm so happy with how this came out !!! i hope you enjoy // this one's for you, @iamsebastiansstan <3 manifesting this for us

warnings. 18+ — minors dni! smut, that including unprotected piv, name calling, kinda hate sex ? crying during + after sex &&& lots of plot beforehand | wc. ۪13.494  ⊹ 𓄹 ࣪ . ݁

— english is not my first language ! feedback is appreciated

"Do we really need to set those fucking rules? You're not gonna abide by them anyway", you chuckled, you're bare back pressing against Nicholas' sweaty chest as he held you close. You felt it rise and fall with every sharp breath he took, the smell of sex and sweat filling the small space of his room. With your palms pressed tightly against the wall and Nicholas' hands rubbing up and down your sides, you felt surprisingly at peace.

"Speak for yourself. I just wanna make sure we're on the same page here", he mumbled, slipping out of your pussy in one, swift movement, and you winced, turning back towards him with a small smile plastered on your face. You were utterly spent, but nonetheless satisfied as you straightened the material of your skirt, making sure you looked presentable, even in your fucked-out state.

"What do you say about... fuck buddies? No feelings involved. Nothin' more than a good fuck once in a while", Nicholas shrugged, pulling his pants up his legs, and you nodded, running your palms over your hair to tame the strands that slipped out of your slicked back hairstyle.

"Yeah, sounds good. Just know", you lowered your voice, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "I'm unable to resist. Let's hope you don't fall in love with me in the process".

Nicholas chuckled, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as he cradled your cheek, looking down at you with authority that made your breath hitch. "Don't worry. I won't".

How fucking ironic.

Nicholas' voice echoed in your head as you stood there, immersed in silence, just by the bar's emergency exit door. You could almost feel his presence next to you, his hot breath on your neck, this stupidly attractive smirk that he always sent your way. The way his eyes gazed deep into your soul, as if he could read you like an open book.

Sometimes you had a feeling he knew you better than you knew yourself.

You hated yourself for letting him ruin your night. The buzz you got from the alcohol started to pass, and all that was left inside you was sorrow and anger. The distinctive smell of smoke lingered in the air around you as you took another puff of your half-burnt out cigarette, inhaling deeply, as if the toxin could heal the wounds Nicholas left in your heart.

In your head, you could clearly see it — Nicholas standing a couple of feet away from you, his back facing you. Your friends' laughter erupted in your ears as one of them made a really bad joke, most of them completely drunk by now, barely able to stand straight. Your attention was solely focused on him — the man you came here for in the first place. You hadn't seen him in two weeks, for God's sake! It soon became obvious why, though. A tall, long-haired blonde woman approached the group, the sound of her heels clicking against the floor heard even through the loud music. She leaned against Nicholas, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he responded immediately with rubbing his hands up and down her sides. Suddenly, you felt very uncomfortable in your own skin — the soft fabric of your embarrassingly short dress pressing tightly against your body now suffocating. You wore it only for him, and he didn't even spare you a glance. With teary eyes, you watched as he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, which were much bigger and fuller than yours, you noted. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you sipped on your drink, your gaze falling to the floor.

What did you do wrong?

Another inhale, another exhale. You played with the necklaces hanging loosely around your neck, feeling your muscles relax a bit as you did so. No matter how dumb that sounded, the cool metal felt refreshing against your fingertips, grounding you to the moment. No matter how hard you tried, though, you couldn't get Nicholas out of your head. The night was hot, although you could feel an uninvited shiver run down your spine as you let your mind wander to him again, again and again.

Friends with benefits, he said. No boundaries, just sex between two best friends. The rules were simple enough — but somehow, you managed to break all of them.

No staying overnight. But you did �� so many times, letting Nicholas cuddle you through the night, finding comfort and safety in his warm embrace. No kissing. No cuddling afterwards. No catching feelings. And the most important, at least for Nicholas, as he emphasised many times before — No seeing other people. He mentioned that it was for safety reasons, but you didn't believe him — maybe you hoped he wanted you all to himself, the same way you wanted him.

Everything had changed. You looked at him in ways you never dared to before — you started to see a man in him. It started innocently enough. His hand raking through your hair after practically fucking your soul out of you, his eyes filled with hesitation, as if he was scared to touch you, take care of you — but he did. He always did.

Then, he told you to stay overnight. The warmth of his arms around you, his intoxicating smell wrapping around you like a blanket, his soothing hands rubbing against your shoulder and thigh, lips ghosting over your forehead and damp hair. The way he kissed you as if you were the most precious being, lulling you to your sleep after forcing you to take a shower. His smile when he looked down at you with quiet adoration that he hoped you didn't notice. But you did. You always did.

You knew you crossed a line you couldn't uncross, but it was too late to turn back.

The universe seemed to laugh at you, now, as you sat there, alone, hugging your arms to your chest in hopes to ease the aching of your heart. The first drop of the warm, summer rain fell on your skin, dripping down the side of your hand as you shakily exhaled.

The silence of the outside world, compared to the chaos happening inside the bar was almost suffocating, but somehow comforting. You wrapped your jacket around yourself, even though your body was on fire. Maybe you were just trying to shield yourself from the feelings you had towards Nicholas, maybe you just hoped it'd all go away if you hid behind the oversize jacket. Without a second thought, you took the cigarette pack out of your pocket, lighting one up, watching as it got damp due to the — now harder — rain.

"You're pretty", you thought you heart him mumble just as you poured milk into the bowl, glancing at the recipe in order to get everything right. You froze mid-mixing the dough, breath caught in your throat, the music softly blasting in the background long forgotten. Nicholas stood by your side, leaning against the counter, watching you more than actually helping — just as he always did. His attentive eyes bore into the side of your face shamelessly, and you sent him a quick glance, small smirk tugging on the corner of your lips as you processed his words.

"Sure", you replied simply, chuckling to yourself, even though you could hear your heart pound in your throat. "I'm sure you say that to every girl you hang out with".

It was Nicholas' time to chuckle. He shifted, leaning forward to look over your shoulder, his eyes following you mixing the dough in the small bowl. Your attempts to stop the trembling of your hands were useless as the spoon slipped out of your grasp, falling onto the floor with a defeating bang.

"Easy there, love", he teased, leaning down to grab it for you, leaving a soft peck on your thigh as he did. An unwanted shiver run down your spine, and you found yourself turning your head to look at him as he straightened his posture, towering over you. "I don't. You're the only one I call pretty".

You gulped as Nicholas met your gaze, small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he studied your nervous expression. You couldn't help the heat that spread across your body at his words, and you smiled, a hint of shyness in your expression — and he noticed immediately. He always did.

Without another word, he handed you the spoon, and you nodded in quiet "thanks", your gaze dropping to his lips for a second before you went back to mixing the dough.

You had hoped he couldn't feel your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y'know", Nicholas continued casually, his hands founding place on your hips as if they belonged there. You stayed silent, waiting for him to continue, instinctively leaning back against his chest. "We should go out sometime. There's this nice restaurant on the other side of town — I think you'd like it".

You gulped, trying your hardest to seem relaxed, but you could feel your muscles clenching, your mouth feeling dryer than usual. Yet you couldn't help the warmth that spread across your stomach. Was he...?

"Are you asking me out on a date?", you chuckled, turning around in his grasp, tilting your head so that you could have a look at him. He was so much taller than you, so much bigger — and you wondered if it wasn't one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place. With your hands on Nicholas' chest, playing with the collar of his black t-shirt, you could feel his heart pound against your palms.

Nicholas laughed, although it sounded strained, almost forced, his grip on you tightening for a spare second. "Nah. I don't do this shit anymore. Just thought it would be nice to take you there".

With a hint of hesitation, you met his gaze, your smile dropping almost in time with your heart sinking in your chest. You bit the inside of your mouth, desperately trying not to show how much his words affected you — but they did. And he noticed. Sometimes you felt as if he knew you better than you knew yourself, looking right through you as if you were invisible. And you hated yourself for letting him get to you in such ways. You hated yourself for holding your heart out on your sleeve, and you hated him for breaking it again, again... and again.

"Um... yeah. I don't know. You might as well take someone else", you whispered, fixing the wrinkles on his shirt before slipping out of his grasp, turning away without another word. Your throat felt dry, and you struggled to keep your composure, feeling as if you were punched in the gut.

Were you overreacting? Maybe. Were you still hoping he might feel the same way and was just really, really good at hiding it? Definitely.

"I don't want to go with anyone else", he urged, trying to get closer to you again, the warmth of his body surrounding you, almost suffocating now. Although his words made your heart race, blush creeping up onto your face, you didn't let him get any closer. You knew his touch would hurt. And you knew you couldn't allow him to hurt you anymore.

"Nicholas, I can't do this", you mumbled. Not once had he seen you cry — and you weren't going to let him. Your voice was confident, not shaking even once, as you turned towards him, your hard gaze unfaltering, even though his disappointed expression made your heart break just a little. "You're crossing a line. Weren't you the one who made those stupid rules? Weren't you the one who wanted— wanted for it to be nothing more than a good fuck once in a while? Look what's happening to us", you babbled, even though with every word you said, your heart sunk deeper into your chest. It hurt to say it out loud, but you had to face the truth — you crossed a line. Maybe it was all fun and games to him, but it wasn't to you. Not anymore.

Nicholas seemed to be taken aback by your sudden outburst. He stepped back, as if being this close to you caused him physical pain.

He stayed quiet for a while. You could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the kitchen as you watched him, waiting for him to say something. Anything.

"You're right. We shouldn't", he nodded, meeting your gaze with a hint of hesitation. "Which doesn't mean I'm gonna stop kissing you. It's the one rule I want to keep on breaking— If you let me".

You let a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, your eyes softening. Nicholas, noticing the change in your expression, stepped closer again, caging you between his body and the kitchen counter, his hands finding place on your cheeks, as if they belonged there.

"I'd rather die than to stop kissing you", he whispered, pushing a strand of your untamed hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched, and you clutched his shirt between your fingers, as if to ground yourself to the moment.

You wanted to tell him everything. How much you'd grown to love him, how safe you felt in his arms, how you wanted to be something more than just a friend to him. But you didn't. Instead, you stepped on your tiptoes to press a soft, loving peck to his lips, hoping it'd say what you didn't dare to.

You let the smoke leave your mouth, watching it swirl in the air only to dissipate seconds later. The rain was now pouring down from the sky, and you wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation. You shivered, hugging yourself tighter, not even caring about the dampness of your clothes and the raindrops falling down your forehead, messing up your perfectly done makeup.

The sound of the door creaking open caught you off guard — not so many people knew about the backside of the bar, and you'd hoped it would stay this way. You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing in hopes to catch a glimpse of the person that had, unknowingly, disturbed the one moment of peace you had in a long time. The last person you'd expect to see, though, was Nicholas. He looked stupidly handsome in a black, skin-tight shirt, worn out jeans and some white sneakers, and you hated him for it.

Your heart dropped to your stomach when you realised he wasn't alone.

A loud, annoyingly sweet and high-pitched laugh echoed through the silence, along with the already familiar clicking of the girl's heels against the concrete pavement. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn't notice you; God, how badly you wished you could become invisible for a moment. You blinked rapidly, keeping your composure, even though you could feel your heart pounding against your ribs. With narrowed eyes, you looked her up and down, almost rolling them as you noticed her leaning against Nicholas' shoulder for balance as she kept on giggling. She was completely drunk, but Nicholas, on the other hand, seemed sober. His hand rested on her waist, slowly guiding her down the steps, keeping quiet as she tripped over her feet clumsily, laughing loudly. The urge to roll your eyes was too strong, now, as you balled up against the wall, partially trying to hide under your jacket, your knees pulled to your chest, your knuckles turning white as you gripped on the wet ground beneath you.

As they got closer, you couldn't help but feel your heart race, knowing there was nowhere to hide. You sighed, hastily taking a puff of your cigarette, losing count of how many you've already smoked. You had hoped he wouldn't notice you through the wall of rain, that he'd walk past you as if you didn't exist. You shifted on the ground, your head dropping back against the wall as you stared up at the clouded sky, exhaling the smoke into the damp air. You tried your best to seem relaxed, but you couldn't help the tears brimming in the corners of your eyes — your breathing getting heavier the closer they got.

The world seemed to stop spinning for a second when you met Nicholas' gaze. Surprise was written all over his face, replaced by concern as soon as he realised you were soaking wet, out in the open rain. You smacked your glossy lips together, your eyes falling to the ground as you heard him approach you with a few, long steps.

"Y/N? What— what are you doing here?", he said softly, crouching down next to you, forgetting about the girl he left with. You didn't look at him right away; you knew you couldn't. Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you took a puff of your cigarette, staring at the ground blankly — wishing a black hole would come crashing down and swallow you whole.

"Hey, are you okay? Wanna go in—".

"I'm fine, Nicholas", you interrupted mid sentence, finally finding courage to look him in the eyes. His brows were slightly furrowed, concern written all over his face as he carefully studied you, gulping. You had never called him Nicholas before. It was always Nic, Nico, or even Chavez if you were being playful. The sound of his full name falling from your lips was so unfamiliar, it sent shivers down his spine. You took a deep breath, stubbing the remains of your cigarette out slowly. "Don't keep your company waiting".

For a second, he seemed confused, as if he forgot about the person he left with in the first place. He turned his head, watching the girl as she sat on the bench, swinging her legs in the air happily, mumbling nonsense. You rolled your eyes and snarled, moving to get up from the ground — your ass felt sore, you were soaked, and you wanted to get Nicholas out of your sight as soon as possible.

"I'm just driving her home", he explained, stepping closer towards you as you hastily stood up, wrapping your jacket tighter around you.

"Nicholas, I don't care", the coldness again. "It's certainly none of my concern. You seemed to be pretty close, though", you couldn't help but chuckle, shaking your head.

"It's not like that", he groaned, quickly getting irritated at the indifference in your voice and in your eyes. You bit back a sigh, instead rolling your eyes, fixing your damp hair in hopes to tame it, make yourself look better than you felt. "Let me drive you home. We can talk about it, yeah?".

You found yourself shaking your head before he could even finish the sentence, taking a step back to put some distance between the two of you. Nicholas couldn't help but let his eyes roam over your soaked form, how absolutely beautiful you looked, even when drenched in the open rain.

"No, Nicholas. It's better if I go on my own", you stepped back when he tried to reach for you, as if his touch would set you on fire. "We—", you pointed your finger towards him and then you again, "we don't work. We're done. You hear me? I— I can't".

You hated the way your voice trembled, but you were sure of what you wanted. You knew you couldn't have it, and no matter how much it hurt, you had to protect your heart. Maybe it was too late, though — when you looked into his eyes, wide and pleading, as if asking you not to let go — you weren't so sure you could.

"What do you mean 'we're done'?", he asked carefully, running a hand through his messy locks, staring at you like a lost puppy.

"I meant exactly that. You're fucking kissing another girl in there and— you broke the fucking rule. The one that was so fucking important to you in the first place!", you snarled, barely able to control your anger and sorrow anymore. Your heart felt as if it was going to explode, and you took a deep, painful breath, leaning back against the wall in hopes to calm yourself down.

He knew you were serious. He could see it in your eyes, in the way you carried yourself tonight. And he wanted to slam his head against the wall, because he did all of this to get your attention. Maybe he had expected you to end up tangled in his sheets after a mind-blowing make up sex — but he didn't expect you to give up on him. To give up on what you had.

"It's not like that, Y/N, just—".

"Fucking stop it, Nicholas!", you hissed, taking a step forward, tugging at the hem of your dress to pull it down your thighs. "I meant it. I— I'm fucking tired. Exhausted, even", you laughed, although you weren't amused. "I don't want to be one of your girls. It hurts".

You didn't wait for him to reply; you couldn't even look at him. Instead, you turned around, quickly disappearing in the thick rain that continued to pour from the dark sky.

He didn't come after you.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ♡

For the next week, you didn't see him.

Not that you wanted to — but the emptiness in your heart only deepened the more days passed by. You tried to get yourself busy, manoeuvring between work and taking extra assignments and getting with your friends in the weekends. No matter how hard you tried, though, the thought of him always lingered in the back of your mind.

It was Saturday evening, and you were getting ready to go out with your friends. You finished off your makeup by putting a lipgloss on, smacking your lips together to spread it evenly. You couldn't help but feel your stomach hurl with excitement at the thought of going out, maybe meeting someone new, forgetting everything for a night.

As you stared out of your window and admired the panorama of New York, constantly living and breathing, you felt smaller than ever. The weight on your heart seemed to follow you everywhere, even if you tried to leave it in your pocket for just a few hours. You caught your own reflection in the thick glass, and you didn't even recognise who you were anymore. Maybe falling for Nicholas was the worst mistake you've ever made, but you couldn't deny he made you feel more alive than ever.

The tight, black, backless top you wore clung to your figure in the best way possible, your perky nipples just barely visible from underneath the thick material. Your thighs were almost fully exposed, a simple, black skirt ending just below your ass — it was so out of your comfort zone, but somehow, it made you feel better. Maybe you wanted to prove to everyone, including yourself, that you weren't thinking about him, that you got over the whole mess he'd recently put you through. You sighed heavily, looking out of the window as if the answers for all your doubts were written in the sky.

You fixed your hair, patiently waiting for the right time to leave. It was only beginning to get dark, the sunset creeping into the room casting golden shadows over your face. You couldn't help but wonder what Nicholas was up to — as you stared at the horizon, your hand wandered to the phone laying on your vanity. Maybe you had expected to see a message from him, a missed call; anything that would signal he still cared. Disappointment bloomed in your stomach when you were met with a few messages from your friends, a notification from Instagram and a reminder to take your daily dose of medicine. You rolled your eyes, annoyed, throwing the phone onto your bed before you shuffled towards the door.

A sudden, annoyingly loud sound of your doorbell caught you off guard. You hadn't expected any visitors tonight, neither were you waiting for a package or a letter. You could feel a lump in your throat as your feet moved on their own, guiding you towards the door slowly but surely. The feeling of uneasiness seemed to bloom in your stomach, as if you knew — or maybe, expected — exactly who was waiting at the door. The doorbell rang again, cutting through the silence like a knife, and you froze, your hand towering over the door handle.

You cursed the building's owner for not putting a viewfinder in the doors.

You turned the lock, wincing when your keychain rustled loudly, as if to inform the person on the other side that you were, indeed, home. You couldn't hide even if you wanted to, now — so, without a second thought, you opened the door.

Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw Nicholas. You cursed him for looking so stupidly good as you hastily looked him up and down. You sent him a glare, not saying a word, because... truthfully, there was nothing to say anymore. His gaze lingered on your boobs for a second longer than appropriate, before moving down, focusing on your exposed legs instead. He leaned against the doorframe nonchalantly, as if nothing ever happened, as if nothing between you changed.

"Going somewhere?", he mocked, inviting himself in, taking off his leather jacket as he went. The intoxicating smell of his cologne filled the room, wrapping around you like a comfortingly familiar blanket. You bit the inside of your mouth, not quite sure what to do, although you could feel your stomach tighten at his mere presence alone. Absolutely fucking pathetic.

"What are you doing here?", you asked carefully, keeping a safe distance as he entered your kitchen, moving around as if he owned the place. Nicholas didn't answer right away — instead he took a cup from the cupboard, pouring himself some orange juice, his movements slow and deliberate. You felt your cheeks heat up; his arrogant carelessness making annoyance bloom low in your stomach. "I said we're fucking done, Nicholas. Why do you act like a fucking child? Why the fuck are you even here?".

He leaned against the kitchen counter, clearly indifferent to your anger. A small smirk played on his lips as he took a small sip of the juice, tapping his fingers against the countertop. Your gaze lingered on his hand for longer than necessary, but your expression stayed neutral, your arms crossed on your chest as if to protect yourself from his effortless charm.

"This is good— Where'd you buy it?", Nicholas asked, clearly unbothered by the glares you sent his way. You rolled your eyes; the barely concealed anger began to overcome you, and you clenched your fists in order to calm the storm going on in your head.

"It's a fucking orange juice", you muttered, shaking your head, your eyes squeezed shut in disbelief. "Why are we having this conversation right now, I mean— Are you for fucking real?" you stuttered, irritated but not quite sure what to do, how to get rid of him. "Nicholas, go away. I've got somewhere to be".

He met your gaze, and for the first time that night, he wasn't wearing that arrogant smirk, his expression dropping a little as he carefully studied you. As much as you felt confident about the way you looked, you couldn't help but sink into the ground as his dark gaze lingered on your legs for longer than needed. Nicholas raised his eyebrows, almost as if he was judging your choice of clothing, a mocking, playful smile making its way onto his lips.

"I'm sure your girlfriends will be fine", he licked his lips, putting the — now empty — cup in the sink before walking off in the direction of your room nonchalantly.

You had no other choice but to follow, your feet shuffling against the wooden floor agonisingly slow as you stared at his back blankly. And you absolutely hated the way your heart fluttered at the sight of his muscles clenching as he walked.

"Yeah, they will. I'm not going out with them", you rasped, feeling a lump starting to form in your throat as you walked past Nicholas, plopping on your bed — just now realising he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon. You didn't meet his gaze, instead focusing on fixing the crinkles on your fluffy blanket. You saw Nicholas move from the corner of your eye; his brown, attentive eyes narrowed slightly as he leaned against the doorframe, his arms folded over his chest.

"Then who are going out with?", he asked slowly and lowly, curious yet scared of the answer. His tone left you no choice but to look at him sheepishly, fluttering your lashes as you bit the inside of your mouth. You knew exactly where this was going, and it meant one thing and one thing only: trouble.

"I'm meeting someone, Nicholas. It's none of your concern anyway, so I'd appreciate it if you—".

"No. You're not doing that", Nicholas chuckled, although there was no humour in his tone at all — his voice an almost animalistic hiss, dripping with venom. You rose up to your feet, anger and annoyance blooming in your chest as you let his words sink in. You sent him a glare, just now noticing how dark his eyes became. He was breathing heavily, leaning against the doorframe, trapping you inside, giving you no choice but to stay where you were.

You turned on your feet, walking to the window only to stare at the New York panorama; you could practically hear the roar of the city through the thin glass, making your heart ache with longing. It was supposed to be a fun night — you were supposed to forget about him, just for one night, maybe meet someone new. Yet there he was, trapping you inside your own apartment as if you were a prisoner.

"How comes you tell me what to fucking do?", you snapped, turning around only to face him again. You couldn't control your anger anymore, not even if you tried — his arrogant smirk only spurring you on, causing you to close the distance between you in a few, big steps.

"I just want you to fucking leave me alone. I don't want to see you, I don't want to listen to anything you say. You can go back to being a man whore now — don't let me hold you back anymore", you snarled, pushing him back in hopes to get him to listen, just for once. Your breath was heavy as you watched Nicholas straighten his posture, pushing himself off the wall swiftly. His smirk vanished, and so did your confidence as he towered over you, almost making you feel nauseous. You swallowed hard, instinctively taking a step back to increase the distance between you, your face feeling stiff as you watched his dangerous expression.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that", he hissed, his tone leaving you no room to protest. Your throat felt dry as you chuckled lowly, shaking your head in disbelief.

"Big, dangerous Nicholas. All you do is fucking talk", you chuckled again, one of your hands moving up only to tap his cheek lightly, as if he was a little boy. Your voice was sharp, but there was a light edge to it — a challenge. Nicholas' gaze dropped to your lips, his jaw tight as he watched an amused smirk appear on your face. "You're a fucking asshole, and I want nothing to do with you. You had already made your choice. Now, get the fuck out".

He didn't move. Neither did you. You'd wondered what he'd do next — if he'd listen to you, just this one time, or if he'd kill you right on the spot. The anticipation made your heart race, your hands shaking nervously, arms falling limp by your sides.

Just as you were about to move, to break the thick silence by shuffling to the door, Nicholas hand clamped down on your neck, cutting your airflow in one, swift movement.

You gasped when you met his gaze — his pupils completely blown out, swallowing the darkness of his irises; brows furrowed as he studied your face, the corner of his mouth turning up at the look of fear on your face. He really did find the whole situation amusing, meanwhile you struggled against him, trying to free yourself from the bruising grip he had on you.

"Say that again", he hissed lowly, leaning down so that he could be face to face with you. His eyes remained serious, although a small smirk made its way onto his face as he watched you wince and grip his forearm in order to free yourself. You knew Nicholas would never hurt you, but the way he looked at you sent shiver down your spine. The feelings you tried to bury deep inside your heart came flooding back — no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't shake them.

You took a shallow breath, gulping audibly when Nicholas brought you closer by your neck, his lips now millimetres away from yours. He tilted his head, studying your face as if he could see right through you — as if he could sense the longing for him that you so desperately tried to hide. His eyes remained cold, and you felt his hot breath against your cheek, your face growing warmer with each passing second.

"I fucking hate you", you spat, your voice strangled due to the pressure his hand put on your neck. The more you said it, the less you believed that's how you truly felt. Your words were filled with venom, but there was also an unmistakable crack to your voice that defeated you. A small chuckle erupted from Nicholas' chest — and you knew you had already lost the battle you unknowingly fought in your head.

"Mhm. And you aren't... jealous of me? You didn't look so happy about my little company last weekend", he snarled, letting go of your neck only to bring you closer by your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin with unspoken possessiveness. You took a deep breath, your hands rubbing the sore skin he just let go of, your eyes squinting as a soft laugh escaped your parted lips. You shook your head. The audacity of men.

"What do you want me to say? It was not a part of the deal. You broke the rules of our little arrangement, but when it comes to me seeing other people, suddenly it's a problem?", you snapped, putting your hands on his chest to at least put some distance between the two of you. You weren't sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Nicholas?".

For a second, it seemed as if he was speechless. His mouth opened and closed as if he was a god damn fish — words dying in his throat as he watched you with an unfaltering expression. You huffed, pushing him back until his hands fell from your hips to stupidly swing by his sides. "You're pathetic. Get out. I won't repeat myself".

Your throat burned with the things you wanted to say — how much you hated him for how he played you; how badly he hurt you; how madly you've fallen for him. Instead, you just watched as he took a deep breath, collecting himself, his gaze lowering to the ground as if he wasn't sure what to say.

After a few seconds, that felt like an eternity, you heard him shuffle towards the door. Your heart ached, and you weren't quite sure why — you wanted him to leave. He listened to you, just for once, and for some reason, all you wanted to do was yell: "stay". You mindlessly toyed with your fingers, watching as his hand towered over the doorknob, hesitating just for a second.

"I don't share".

Nicholas' voice came out as barely a whisper, and if it wasn't for the gravelly silence, you wouldn't even catch it. Your eyes almost fell out of your head, you could hear your own heartbeat in the quietness of the room — you were almost convinced Nicholas could, too.

"W-what?", your voice came out an octave higher than you'd anticipated, making you want to slam your head against the wall. You watched Nicholas' back as he stood still, his head tilting just slightly to give you a side-eyed look.

"You heard me", he growled, much louder this time, before slowly turning towards you, as if you were his prey. His gaze landed on you, confident and serious, catching you off guard. You momentarily forgotten about every insult you wanted to call him — your hands clutched in fists by your sides, the all-familiar heat filling your stomach as it hurled with need. "You are not going to see anyone else. You're mine, whether you like it or not".

You blinked slowly, watching as Nicholas got closer again. The room suddenly got smaller, the air around you thicker. Your head shot up as he towered over you, giving you no room to protest before leaning down and pressing his lips against yours.

You wanted to protest — hit him, slap him in the face, get a reaction out of him; humiliate him just as he did you so many times. Yet all you could do was stand there, your feet planted into the floor, and you couldn't move; couldn't react. Your eyes closed involuntarily, your heart beating out of your chest as you obeyed him; what other choice did you have? Lying to yourself was much better than facing the undeniable truth — you wanted this. You wanted to get a reaction out of him, to provoke him, watch him break and fight for whatever you two had. And, based on the way he pulled you closer by your hips, pressing against you as if he didn't want to let go — it definitely worked.

You desperately kissed him back, unable to hide what you truly wanted no more — your hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands with a little too much force than you anticipated. You felt Nicholas' mocking smile against your lips, a soft groan that you oh, missed so dearly leaving his mouth when he felt the harsh sting on his scalp. The pain only seemed to fuel him further, his fingers digging into your waist as if he wanted to leave bruises there — claiming you as his for anyone else to see. Your breaths mingled together, short and shallow, as you devoured each other as if it was the last thing you were going to do. Your mouth parted in an involuntary moan when Nicholas pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, his greedy touch hurriedly backing you against the window.

As soon as your bare back made contact with the cool glass, a shiver ran down your spine — an involuntary squeak leaving your throat, being swallowed by his greedy lips on yours. Nicholas wouldn't let you breathe, putting all of his gathered anger, annoyance and lust into the kiss, making sure you could feel him all over you.

"You drive me fucking insane", he breathed out, slipping his knee between your legs just as his lips began to travel down your throat, biting the sensitive skin there, soothing the pain with his tongue immediately after. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolling back into your head, your nails raking through his messy curls to ground yourself in any way you could. "Still hate me?".

You let out a breathless chuckle that quickly turned into a moan — Nicholas' breath tickled your collarbone, his mouth working on your sensitive skin as if he couldn't get enough.

"More than ever", you choked out, pulling his head up so that you could reconnect your lips, already missing the addicting taste of his mouth. Your tongue parted his lips, and Nicholas groaned lowly, the sound bubbling in his throat as he greedily kissed you back. No matter how hard you tried to keep your guard up, to push him away and slap him across his stupidly handsome face — you couldn't bring yourself to do so. Maybe it was the way his hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing your skin as if he was scared you'd slip away; or maybe it was the smell, taste, warmth of him on your body. There was no denying he was the only one that could make you feel this good — and he barely even started.

So you allowed him to do whatever he pleased.

One of Nicholas' hands travelled all over your side, lifting the hem of your little top as it moved up your stomach slowly, teasingly. His long, thick fingers brushed against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your body, shiver running down your spine. Nicholas reached the bottom of your bare boobs, and a deep groan left his mouth when you arched into his touch.

"No bra?", he chuckled lowly, pulling away to look into your eyes. "You're such a slut. You were ready to jump into a random guy's bed, weren't you?".

You were unable to reply. Anger bubbled in your chest, your cheeks growing warm as you sent him a glare through your lashes.

"Says you. A literal definition of a man whore", you rolled your eyes, your nails raking down his shirt—covered chest. Nicholas' eyes hardened as he stared down at you, his hand on your hip tightening in an almost painful grip. His nails dig into your skin as he pulled you closer, his other hand pulling on the hem of your shirt to lift it up; your boobs spilling out of the tight fabric almost immediately.

You gasped when your overheated skin got exposed to the cold air. Your nipples hardened under Nicholas' dark eyes, and you watched as he run his tongue along his bottom lip, clearly impressed by the reaction he managed to get out of you. You fought the urge to wet your lips as you watched him, anticipation blooming deep in your stomach.

Nicholas' breath tickled your lips as he finally met your gaze again. He smirked down at you, somehow pressing you harder against the cool glass, the grip he had on your hip unforgiving.

"Yet you keep on coming back. Why the fuck do you keep on coming back?", he groaned against your lips, his hand finally meeting the soft skin of your breast. Nicholas watched as your back arched off the glass, your eyes threatening to close as he squeezed your boob harshly, the feeling of his palm against your nipple heavenly.

You stifled a whine that wanted to erupt from your throat. Instead, you gripped Nicholas' broad shoulders — your long, manicured nails digging into his skin as you desperately tried to maintain your composure. Your mouth parted, and a prolonged, desperate breath left you before you could stop it.

"I don't know", you swallowed loudly; your lips brushed against Nicholas' as you spoke, his eyes melting into yours with intensity that left you breathless. He chuckled, tilting his head slightly; a playful, teasing smile played on his lips as he tugged on your nipple with his forefinger and thumb, catching you off guard. You moaned, your whole body reacting to his all-too-familiar touch as a shiver run down your spine. Nicholas cursed under his breath, his bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as he carefully studied your face.

"You're not a good liar. Just admit it. You know I can make you feel better than anyone. You know you're mine. You know I'm yours, baby".

You let out a shaky breath you didn't realise you were holding, your eyes locking with his — the weight of the unspoken words heaved on your shoulders, making it impossible for you to think straight. You let your head fall back against the window as you desperately tried to put some distance between the two of you. The hand playing with your breast moved down your body, reaching the bottom of your thigh before he hooked your leg around his waist.

"Nicholas—", you choked out, your lashes fluttering as you looked up at him, your tongue darting out to wet your dry lips. He hummed lowly, squeezing the soft skin of your thigh before his hand slipped under the hem of your skirt.

"Tell me to leave, and I will", he whispered, his fingertips gently rubbing against your sensitive inner-thigh, once again making you gulp. "Say it, Y/N. What do you want?".

Nicholas shifted closer, his face now inches away from yours, his eyes boring into yours with intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat. You knew you should tell him to leave, to make him feel like he made you plenty of times before. Your voice died in your throat, and before you knew it, you were kissing him again.

You were tired of acting like you didn't want him. You were tired of the sleepless nights you spent thinking about this exact moment. Your hands moved down Nicholas' chest, slipping under his shirt to brush against his well-defined stomach. Your leg against his waist tightened, and so did Nicholas' grip on your thigh as he groaned into your mouth, his hips tightly pressed against your inner thigh.

"I want you, Nic. All of you. I want it so fucking bad it hurts", you breathed into his mouth before sucking his bottom lip lewdly, your hips rocking against his thigh securely pressed between your legs. You tugged on the hem of his shirt, silently asking Nicholas to take it off, and he obeyed. You barely broke the kiss as he lifted it over his head, throwing it onto the floor carelessly. You could feel the hardness of his erection press against your bare skin, the rough material of his jeans grinding against your thigh.

"Then take me", he groaned into your mouth, his voice filled with urgency. His hips snapped forward, experimentally grinding into your thigh, letting you feel just how ready he was for you. You mewled like a frightened kitten, the adrenaline pumping in your veins, your heart feeling as if it could jump out of your chest. Your body betrayed how you truly felt, your pelvis snapping towards Nicholas, as if you couldn't bare being away from him. "Claim me as yours for everyone else to see".

Your head was spinning, and his words didn't help with the burning sensation spreading across your stomach. The closer Nicholas' hand got to your clothed centre, the more your back arched off the window, your erect nipples rubbing against his bare chest. More moans slipped past your lips, and you didn't hold them back — you couldn't, even if you tried. With the little strength you had left, you pushed him back, leaving him no choice but to fall on your bed. It creaked in protest at Nicholas' weight, but he only chuckled, eyeing you up and down hungrily. He leaned back on his elbows, his feet dangling off the mattress as he patiently waited for your next move. His obedience was surprising — but not unpleasant. With a newfound confidence, you made your way towards him, your hair falling over your shoulders in a way that had Nicholas' breath hitch. His pupils were dilated, chest heaving as he inhaled sharply, watching you with a lopsided smile.

Slowly and teasingly, you pulled your top over your head, throwing it onto the ground, standing by the side of the bed now half-naked. A shiver run down your spine as Nicholas sat up, his face now centimetres away from your chest, his dark eyes staring up at you intensely.

"Take this off", he ordered, pointing towards your little skirt, his tone leaving no room to protest; not that you wanted to. Your hands were shaky as you hastily reached for the waistband of your skirt, looking down at him for approval — it was incredible how much power he held over you, even when you were on top, standing before him; towering over him. Slowly, you tugged on the zipper, feeling the fabric loosen against your waist before falling to the floor with a soft thump. Your heart raced in your chest as you stepped out of the skirt, leaving you almost fully exposed before Nicholas' hungry eyes.

In an instant, his hands were on you, as if he couldn't bare not touching you for a second longer. Your chest heaved with uneven breaths, your knees buckling as Nicholas' hands found place on your thighs, pulling you closer towards the edge of the bed. His eyes roamed down your body, taking in every single detail, that, in his eyes, made you perfect. He eyed the skimpy, black thong that covered your most intimate part, his eyes glimmering in the dim light, as if he couldn't believe you were real.

"You're so fucking hot", he groaned, tugging on the waistband of your underwear before letting it snap against your skin. You hissed, grounding yourself with your hands on his chiselled shoulders, uncontrollably moving closer towards him.

"Those fucking tits of yours," Nicholas groaned, throwing his head back dramatically, his hands moving down your sides only to rest on your hips. He licked his lips; his dark, penetrative eyes gazed right back at you, causing your chest to heave with uneven breaths. "They're perfect. You're perfect. And all mine, aren't you?" he growled, not once looking away from you as his tongue darted out, swirling around your left nipple with undeniable precision. You threw your head back, your back arching into his mouth, hearing Nicholas groan into your flesh. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you plush against him as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he wanted to lose himself completely in you. He kissed the valley between your boobs, biting the sensitive skin there, his attentive eyes following your every reaction.

"Yours— All yours, Nick", you whined, words dying in your throat as his hands travelled down your back, over the curve of your ass, squeezing your buttcheeks roughly, pushing your pelvis towards him.

His nails dig into your skin, making you let out an involuntary moan, your fingers raking through his hair, toying with the soft strands.

"That's my girl", Nicholas' voice was filled with pride, and a prolonged sigh left his mouth, as if this moment was everything he dreamed about. His eyes looked up at you, filled with raw need, his pupils completely blown out, swallowing his irises fully. You gulped at the praise, looking down at him with flushed cheeks and pounding heart. Nicholas licked a long stripe up your sternum, leaving your skin burning and glistening under his hungry gaze.

Slowly and deliberately, his hands moved up and down your sides, caressing your soft skin with an almost gentle care, as if he tried to memorise how your flesh felt against his fingertips. His lips moved down your body, lingering on your ribs, leaving pecks as he went. The occasional glide of his tongue against your skin left you trembling, your knees bucking under the immerse pleasure as they hit the bed frame. Nicholas' big hands kept you upright, guiding you to straddle his lap, and you obediently did so. With your legs now on both sides of his thick thighs and with the flames licking your insides, you tugged on Nicholas' hair, tilting his head towards you, meeting his gaze with a small smile. His eyes were half-lidded, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, the sting on his scalp only adding to his arousal. You could feel his cock press into your clothed centre, straining against his pants, practically begging to be freed. With a sly smile, you tested the waters, grinding your hips back and fourth against him, causing a small whine to escape from his throat.

"You're mine", you murmured, brushing your lips against his; just enough to feel the heat radiating off him, his eyes locking with yours as he nodded. You tutted, tugging on his strands tighter, "Nuh-uh. Not good enough. Say it".

Your voice left no room to protest. Nicholas gulped, his hands grounding you on his erection, pushing you down with enough force to make you hum. "I'm all yours, Y/N. Always had been", he inhaled sharply, bucking his hips up to meet you halfway. The connection between you was almost palpable, knocking the breath out of your lungs, causing your chest to heave with every sharp intake of breath. You've never felt more alive than then; on Nicholas' lap, with his attentive eyes on your face like you were the only one that mattered. You scratched the soft skin behind his ears, your thumbs rubbing soft circles onto his cheeks as you leaned down to kiss him again. This time, you took things slow, savouring the taste of him on the tip of your tongue, feeling his hands on your ass, guiding you to rut against his clothed arousal. Your moans were breathless and swallowed by Nicholas' mouth as he eagerly swirled his tongue around yours, one of his indecisive hands travelling up your back to tangle in your hair.

You were right where you were supposed to.

"Fuck me", Nicholas chuckled lowly as you pulled away, moving down to nib and kiss his defined jaw, feeling his soft stubble scratch your skin as you did. You grinned against his skin, pushing him down to make him lay flat on the bed, and he obeyed, taking you with him as he went. Your hair fell on your face as you towered over him, your palms flat on both sides of his head. Slowly and sensually, you leaned down, pushing your hair out of the way to press a lingering kiss on the side of Nicholas' neck. He groaned — the sound vibrated against your lips as you licked a stripe up his throat, biting the sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew made him squirm each time. Nicholas' hands guided you, pressing you flat against his chest with a tight grip on your ass, his hips snapping upwards in search of any kind of friction he could get. Your appreciative hums were muffled by his skin as you sucked, bit and kissed on every inch you could reach, slowly moving down towards his chest.

"Mark me up for everyone to see", Nicholas choked out, his grip on your ass almost painful, now, as he used it for leverage to grind his cock into your pussy. You moaned shamelessly at his words, feeling fireworks erupt in your stomach as the adrenaline took over. You flicked your tongue against his prominent collarbone, sucking hickeys into his tan skin, pressing kisses on every beauty mark adorning his chest you could find.

By the time you were satisfied with your work, Nicholas was a groaning mess underneath you. His spit-covered skin glistened under the city lights creeping into the room, the contours of his face even more prominent now. Purple marks adorned the sides of his neck, collarbones and the column of his throat — you felt a rush of joy fill your heart at the sight. The thought of him being so obviously marked by you made your heart race, and, with a satisfied smile, you gently run your fingertips over the love bites you left just below Nicholas' collarbone.

"Beautiful", you mumbled, tilting your head slightly, watching as a wide, dazed smile made its way onto Nicholas' face. You felt him throb underneath you, his patience slipping with every second; and, just as you thought about how good he was doing under your control, he flipped you over.

Your back hit the soft mattress, Nicholas' face inches away from yours as he crawled in between your legs, spreading them wider on both sides of his defined hips. His hands slowly travelled up your body, memorising each curve of your body; unrelenting gaze following every reaction he managed to get out of you. The feeling of his breath against your lips made you dizzy, and your back arched off the mattress in desperate search of friction that he wasn't granting you. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, and you clawed on his defined shoulders as his fingers towered over the waistband of your thong, just barely brushing over your sensitive skin.

An uninvited shudder ran down your spine as you met Nicholas' gaze again. He slid the thong down your legs, slowly, delicately, almost as if he was afraid he'd break you if he pressed too hard. Nicholas chuckled lowly, throwing your damp underwear on the floor with a little care, leaning back to look at your — now exposed — pussy.

One of his hands reached up, cupping your breast for a second, long enough to make you arch against him, before it moved up, wrapping around your throat. Nicholas' grip was firm and tight enough to make you deliciously lightheaded, and you gasped, feeling a strong sting on the side of your ass.

"Such a dirty fuckin' girl. You're soaking", he cooed, the previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found. All you could see was the all consuming darkness and lust, drifting just below the surface, ready to be freed. "You've been dying to have my cock inside you, weren't you?".

You tried your best to nod, but it was nearly impossible when he pressed his thumb against your pulse point, sending you a dirty, open-mouthed smirk that made your stomach hurl. Another spank against the side of your ass, and your legs were tightening around Nicholas' hips, your own grinding into the air in search of any kind of relief.

He clicked his tongue, clearly enjoying the control he had over you. Your jaw was slack, every muscle in your body tense as you waited, obediently leaning down against the pillows, your limp arms falling on both sides of your head.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?", he asked, grinning when you tried to nod again, his grip on your throat tightening just barely. White dots erupted in front of your eyes, your chest tightening due to the lack of air in your lungs, feeling as if you could pass out any second now. With the last ounce of power you had, you gripped Nicholas' forearm, your nails digging into his skin with enough force to leave marks. Your pussy clenched around nothing, practically begging to be touched, to be taken care of, your body now shaking in Nicholas' tight grasp.

You gasped abruptly as his hand loosened around your throat, finally giving you room to breathe. Instead, it travelled down your body, exploring every inch, every curve. Nicholas leaned down again just as his fingers brushed over your pussy — the touch feather-like, but enough to make you rasp for more.

"Nick", you choked out, reaching out for him, raking your nails down his back. Nicholas' other arm was outstretched beside your head, keeping him upright as he towered over you, once again leaning down to barely graze your bottom lip with his teeth. "Shit, I need you. Need you so bad".

Your voice came out strangled, but you didn't care; you weren't afraid to beg him for what you wanted. Any ounce of self-control left you whenever he was close, but you didn't mind. He set your insides on fire like no one else could.

When Nicholas licked his lips, smiling cruelly before pressing the two of his fingers against your clit, all you could do was gasp. He knew exactly what to do with his fingers and how to use them, circling your sensitive bud as if you were the only thing that mattered. He hissed through his teeth, clicking his tongue as your jaw dropped, brows furrowing as quiet moans escaped you.

"So wet f'me, fuck", he mused, his lips ghosting over your jaw just as two of his fingers slipped inside your tight hole. You cried out, nails digging into his forearm resting beside your head as it fell back against the sheets. You clenched around his digits as he pushed them as deep as they could go, burying them inside you; curling them upwards to get more sweet moans out of your swollen lips. Your eyes rolled back into your head, chest heaving with uneven breaths as Nicholas' breath tickled your ear, his teeth grazing your lobe teasingly. "So fuckin' tight. Just squeezing my fingers", he chuckled darkly. His voice sent shiver down your spine, and you found yourself reaching for him, your hands roaming over his chest, arms and shoulders as if you couldn't bear being away from him. The feeling of his fingers buried deep within your walls combined with the feeling of Nicholas' hard, muscular body on top of you was almost too much, and you were choking on your breath, almost embarrassed by how quickly he made you lose control.

That's when he started to pump his digits in and out of you, keeping his movements slow and steady, a memorable gasp leaving your throat every time his palm met your stiff clit. Your eyes were wide and glossy, mouth wide agape as you tried to speak, signal how good he made you feel; except that you didn't have to. Nicholas could see it, feel it, God, even hear it. The wet, squelching noise filled the silence as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, hitting that special spot that had you seeing stars, your thighs threatening to close around his forearm.

"Shit, Nick, oh my fucking God", you cried out just as your hips rose off the mattress, bucking into his hand greedily, as if you couldn't get enough. Nicholas chuckled, his breath warm against your skin as he trailed kisses down the side of your neck, his skilled tongue flicking against your collarbone teasingly.

"Yes, baby, you're doing so good f'me", he cooed, mouth moving up your body only to reconnect your lips hastily. You moaned into the kiss, barely able to kiss him back as your stomach tightened; his fingers working in and out of your cunt, his thumb rubbing tight circles on your clit. "Such a good fucking girl. You wanna cum f'me? Wanna soak my fucking hand, hmm? Fucking say it", he growled against your lips, leaning back just enough to wrap his free hand around your neck again. You gasped, barely able to obtain the whimpers that continued to leave your mouth, and you were already there—

"Wanna cum for you, want it s'bad", you choked out, meeting his demanding gaze with a hint of desperation in your own. You clenched down on his fingers, your walls throbbing as you wailed, back arching off the bed. "Shit, shit, shit! Please, let me cum, Nick—".

He smiled cruelly before pulling his fingers out of your tight cunt, your walls clamping down on them as if to prevent him from leaving. You cried out, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes as your stomach tightened, hips rising off the mattress in search of his addicting touch again — but to no avail.

"Not quite good enough, baby", he snarled, pulling you up by your neck, positioning you so that you could sit upright, now facing him. Before you could say something, beg him to please let you cum this time, he tapped two of his soaked fingers against your lower lip. "Suck. Let's see if I trained you well".

Your jaw went slack, eyes clouded with lust, and you obeyed, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to eagerly lap at his digits, tasting yourself. Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your obedience, pushing his fingers into your mouth, the hand on your neck loosening just slightly. You hollowed your cheeks, running your tongue in between his fingers, bobbing your head the same you'd do if it was his cock in your mouth. Without a second thought and clearly growing impatient, he thrusted all the way in until you choked on his fingers, moaning like a bitch in heat, whimpering and trying your best to breathe through your nose. You looked up at Nicholas through your lashes and you met his gaze, dark and filled with longing so strong it made your heart race.

With a satisfied smile, he pulled out — a string of saliva connecting you to his fingers, and you smacked your lips together, already toying with the waistband of his pants, impatient.

"How'd I do?", you panted, slowly pulling the fabric down Nicholas' legs, along with his black boxers, not once looking away from his face. His thumb brushed against your cheek in an almost loving manner, a gentle, sweet smile adoring his lips. The fire in his gaze made your head spin, and you slowly positioned him to lay down on the bed — and he did, not before throwing his underwear on the floor carelessly.

"Fuckin' perfect. Come on, sit on my face, baby", he groaned, and you couldn't help but bite back a whimper, staring at him all doe-eyed, blinking slowly. You obeyed, crawling up his body until you straddled his hard chest, your pussy clenching and unclenching at the sight underneath you. When you moved higher, he stopped you with a quick flick of his hand. "Nuh-uh. Turn around, baby. You're gonna suck my cock like a fuckin' whore you are, right?".

And so you did, nodding obediently. You clumsily straddled Nicholas' face, falling forward as his tongue licked a stripe from the clit to your tight hole immediately. He didn't wait a second, grabbing your ass tightly to push you down onto his face as if he didn't need to breathe, as if he was starved and you were the only one that could satisfy his hunger. Your hips rocked down onto his face, your shaky hands already reaching out to wrap around his reddened cock, your mouth watering at the sight of it alone.

Nicholas groaned, hips bucking into your face as you hastily run your tongue against his tip, humming when the taste of his salty pre-cum flooded your senses. You took him into your mouth, not hesitating before working down his shaft, costing him in your saliva, your hand stroking the part of him you couldn't put in your mouth yet. Nicholas' needy whines and moans were muffled by your pussy as he squeezed your ass, lazily circling your clit with his tongue, manoeuvring between long, slow licks and quick, steady strokes. Your eyes watered, and it didn't take long to feel your stomach tighten. You abruptly pulled away from his cock, instead focusing on jerking him off the best you could while grinding down onto his face, head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Oh my fucking— Nick, I'm so close, can I cum f'you, please? Been so good f'you", you choked out as you felt your thighs shake around Nicholas' head, your grip on his cock tightening just enough to make Nicholas groan into your cunt. The vibrations sent a shiver down your spine, and as much as you didn't want to suffocate him, you also couldn't stop the desperate bucking of your hips. Your breaths came out short and ragged, eyes squeezed shut as the tip of his tongue teased your clenching, leaking hole, eagerly lapping everything you offered him.

Nicholas pulled back just enough to breathe for a second. One of his hands travelled up your ass, lingering on your back before tangling in your hair, roughly pushing your head down.

"If you wanna cum, you're gonna do it while I fuck your face— how's that sound? Hmm?", he mumbled, and you nodded, eager as ever, already lining his cock up to the level of your lips, your tongue lolling out of your mouth only to dip it into his sensitive slit. A shudder run down your spine when he moaned into you, the hand in your hair tightening just barely to assert his dominance over you. His hips began to buck into your awaiting mouth, and you hummed lowly, wrapping your lips against his thick head, swirling your tongue just the way you knew he liked it. The taste of him, combined with his lips now beginning to continue their assault on your puffy cunt, had you seeing stars in no time. Nicholas flicked his tongue over your little nub just the way he knew you liked it, and you couldn't help but rock your hips in the rhythm of his mouth moving on you. Tears bricked in the corners of your eyes as your throat contracted around his tip, your tongue constantly rubbing against the underside of his cock; his breathy groans from underneath you only spurred you on.

"Cum for me, baby", Nicholas whispered, holding you in place as he bucked into your mouth, his eyes rolling back into his head when you swallowed and choked on his impressive length resting in your throat as if it belonged here. His grip on you was tight, bruising, and if it wasn't for the fireworks erupting in your lower belly, you'd probably cry out in pain. Saliva and pre-cum dropped down your chin, but you couldn't care less, as your back arched, hips moving mindlessly against Nicholas' face as much as they could. Your little, pathetic moans and whimpers were muffled by his cock as you came, shaking in Nicholas' tight grip, your nails digging into his thighs, leaving crescent marks in their wake.

It was earth-shattering, and for a moment you thought as if you might've passed out. Nicholas lapped everything you offered him eagerly, overstimulating your already spent pussy as he pressed soft kisses all over your mound. You pulled away from his cock, a string of saliva stretching between your lower lip and the reddened, leaking tip. As much as you wanted to make him cum, too, your whole body protested, and you fell back against the sheets limply. A broken sob escaped your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath, eyes and legs squeezed shut.

Nicholas wasn't having any of it, though. Before you knew it, he slipped in between your legs, his muscular body resting on top of you as if to prevent you from slipping away. One of his hands cradled your face, his thumb brushing against your burning skin in an almost soothing manner. You looked up at him through your lashes, meeting his dark gaze immediately. The intensity between you seemed to grow with each passing second, and you found yourself reaching for him, pulling him down just so that he could kiss you.

You tasted yourself on Nicholas' lips, whimpering into his mouth when his hardness brushed against your lower stomach, big and ever so needy. Your hands were in Nicholas' hair, pulling on the soft strands, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck. You had no idea how much you missed this, missed him, until he was so close to you again. Your back arched into his body as he moved to lift your thigh up his body, securing it on his waist, his tongue toying with yours in a way that had your head spin.

"Fucking look at you", he rasped lowly, gripping the base of his cock to rub himself up and down your wetness, coating himself in your sweet juices. You clenched around nothing, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood, the tension in your stomach building up the more time passed. "My needy, perfect girl. You're gonna fucking take it, yeah? I know you will".

You mindlessly nodded, and Nicholas chuckled, clearly amused by your fucked-up state — and he barely even started. Without a warning, he slipped into your wet, inviting hole, bottoming out almost instantly. He had no patience to take it slow anymore, consumed by the pure need running through his veins. Encouraged by the soft mewl that left your swollen lips, he began pounding into you, pressing one of your legs into the mattress to have you all spread out for him.

"Shit, Nic — God, you're so fucking big", you choked out, your nails digging into Nicholas' chest, leaving red marks in their wake. He met your gaze, sending you his typical, open-mouthed smirk that had your eyes rolling back.

Nicholas grabbed your jaw, forcing you to keep your gaze on him as he adjusted his position, just so that his lower abdomen brushed against your clit every time he bottomed out. Every now and then, he'd stop, grinding his hips against yours to let you feel all of him. You choked on your breath, unable to break the eye contact, your jaw slightly agape as his name left your mouth like a prayer. Your thighs shook where he had you pinned to the bed, your core clenching around him as if to prevent him from leaving. His cock dragged against your walls, and Nicholas made sure you could feel every vein, every throb, every delicious inch of it rearranging your insides. It didn't take long for the coil in your stomach to tighten yet again. You sobbed, feeling the saltiness of your own tears lingering in the corner of your lips. Throwing your head back, your hips bucked up to meet Nicholas halfway; your wide, glossy eyes focused on his face — on the way his jaw dropped, brows furrowed, his dark gaze burning into yours with intensity that left you shaking.

"You look s'pretty, drunk on my fucking cock. You're perfect. My perfect girl", Nicholas cooed, groping your boob tightly, pounding into you as if you were nothing more than his personal toy.

And you loved every second of it.

Your bottom lip trembled as you bit on it, desperately trying to conceal the pathetic sounds that threatened to leave your throat with every brutal thrust. Nicholas pinched your nipple between his fingers, throwing his head back and groaning deeply. The sound alone made you gush around him, your orgasm beginning to overtake you, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to hold it even if he asked you to.

"Nick, I'm— Oh, fuck — I'm gonna cum, please, can I cum f'you?", you managed to choke out, pulling him closer, your hands clasping down on his broad shoulders for balance. Nicholas chuckled breathlessly, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him twitch against your walls, signalling that he was close as well, holding out just for you.

"Shit, baby, you're gonna make me cum already", he groaned, partially amazed, but not surprised. "You're gonna cum with me, baby— I'm gonna pump you full of my cum, yeah? Oh, you fucking love it", he laughed breathlessly, feeling you clench around him at the promise in his words. It was utterly possessive, the way his voice trembled, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he neared the all familiar edge. And you weren't far behind.

"You're mine. You're fucking mine, baby. I'm never letting you go", he muttered lowly before stilling inside you, making you groan in disappointment. "Turn around".

You obeyed, letting his cock plop out of your cunt for a spare second before you turned around on shaky legs. Nicholas' rough hand pressed on your lower back, arching you for him, your ass now on full display for his greedy eyes. Before you knew it, he was already back inside you, setting a rough, earth-shattering pace that had you clutching on the sheets. A strangled, broken sob left your mouth, and Nicholas moaned lowly, watching the way your backside snapped against his hips with each thrust. With one of his hands on your hip and the other tangled in your hair, Nicholas pulled you flush against him, your back meeting his hard chest. The sound of skin slapping, punctuated by your cries and Nicholas' low groans filled the room, so familiar; so addicting.

"Open your mouth f'me, baby, c'mon", he urged, and you obeyed, your head resting against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms securely around your waist, keeping you upright. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you stared up at him, wide eyed, mascara smudged over your flushed cheeks, neck covered with hickeys of his creation. With a throaty groan, he spat in your mouth, making sure your eyes stayed locked on his as he did. "Swallow".

So you did. Your legs trembled as you neared your peak again, your back arching off his chest just as one of his hands travelled down your body, squeezing your left buttock roughly. Nicholas' touch was so addicting; you nearly screamed in pleasure when he spanked you, once, twice, thrice. He made sure to claim you in every way possible, to make sure you'd never look in the direction of another man ever again.

Your orgasm hit you without a warning. You fell forward, burying your face in the sheets as you screamed, creaming all over Nicholas' cock, going limp in his grasp. He moaned shamelessly, watching the way your juices created a creamy ring around the base of his cock. The sight alone made his muscles clench, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gripped your hips, his head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! — Oh my God, yes", he whimpered lowly, bottoming out before letting go; spurts of his hot, sticky cum claiming your walls, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside you making you moan into the sheets. You grinded back the best you could, milking him of everything he had to offer, and God — even he could feel how much he filled you up.

Nicholas collapsed on top of you, and you welcomed the familiar weight of his body pressing against yours. You were shaking, your breaths coming out in short, uneven gasps, the sheets beneath you soaked with tears that couldn't seem to stop flowing. The weight of your actions rested on your shoulders as you became to come down from the high. You had hoped he wouldn't leave this time — the thought itself made your heart ache, your throat burning with the words you wished you had the courage to say to him.

"Shh. C'mere, baby", Nicholas' soothing voice reached your ear as he kissed the back of your neck softly, his breath tickling your skin. You winced when he slowly pulled out of your drenched hole, not giving you a second to think before he leaned against the headboard, pulling you to lay on his chest. You sniffled, pushing your face into his bicep, inhaling the familiar scent of his. "I'm sorry. I didn't know— I just hoped you'd notice me. It's so complicated, Y/N. I don't want to ruin everything we have".

The words made you sniffle into his skin, pulling him closer as if you didn't want him to leave — and, in fact, it was true. You bit your lip, thinking about everything you've been through together; the longing you felt for him almost making your heart burst.

"I love you, Nick. I love you so bad it hurts. It's okay if you want to leave, I broke a rule, and I didn't—"

"Stop, Y/N. Stop", he interrupted, cradling your cheek softly, tilting your head so that you could meet his gaze. Your lower lip trembled when Nicholas' thumb rubbed circles into your skin, somehow making your muscles relax against him. "I love you. You hear me? I. Love. You. I want to be with you. Wake up by your side every day, fall asleep with you in my arms. Fuck, I could never want anything more", he whispered, and your heart fluttered in your chest, your jaw dropping as you searched for any kind of hesitation on his face. You didn't find any.

You sniffled again, letting out a relieved sigh; the weight on your heart seemed to finally fall into the dark abyss, replaced with relief so strong it almost made you sob.

"Let me take care of you now", Nicholas whispered, giving you space to rest, let his previous words sink in, smiling down at you with the all familiar warmth — and it felt like home, for the first time in a long time. "Should we search romantic comedies on Netflix and see what we find?".

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, kissing the side of his neck lovingly. Nicholas' hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as if you were meant to be.

And maybe you were.

Just two souls, so utterly different; but they wouldn't be able to function without each other.

❝ hoffmansgirl © 2025 | do not copy, translate, recreate or plagiarise my content. 𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗟𝗔𝗦 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗭 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ❞

tags (click here to be added): @darlingnikkisixxxx @titsout4jackles @brlwla @blackynsupremacy @mrs-riddlexo @essentialwriter @nicholaschavezslut69 @niteskysx @emluvsuxo @nicholaslut @greengoblinswifey @sin-deciric @onlyangelicc @urlitttlevenicebitch @violetidk @motherismotheringggg @c-cobweb @rosetintmworld @iamsebastiansstan @chr0nicradness

[whiskis]

The commander's mate (part 1?)

A/N: Two SFW stories in a row, sorry, my brain is not really horny this week. That said, part 2 of this lil snippet everyone loved, enjoy!

Alien x fem!reader|| SFW, hurt/comfort || tw: kidnapping

"You are going to take the million and shut up if you don't want your brain blown for keeping a commander's mate imprisoned on a pet shop," he replied, his gun already out as your brain spiraled with the info he just let out.

What did he mean by “mate”? Did aliens talk in Australian lingo? You highly doubted that, and your brain was already scrambling to get a response. Maybe… Maybe your monsterfuckery books weren’t so wrong after all, maybe he was talking about that kind of mate. But that couldn’t be, could it? There was no way you got kidnapped from earth and thrown into a monster pet shop just for an alien to find you and claim you as his mate. That couldn’t be possible. Your life wasn’t like that…

It was a dream. That was it. Everything you just saw and experienced was a dream. You didn’t get kidnapped. You didn’t wake up on a pet cage with a very angry gobling-pet-store-owner screaming at you in a language you didn’t understand. Nope. A dream. That explained it. That explained everything.

You pinched your side and pressed your eyes shut tightly. Wake up, wake up, wake up… You repeated to yourself over and over.

A warm big hand touched your bicep and you almost shoot into the stratosphere when you jumped up, scared. You opened your eyes in a rush and found the alien staring back at you, his eyes tender. “Little human, it’s time to go.” His voice was a lot sweeter than before, equally deep, but soothing in a way.

Your scared brain couldn’t work properly and a thousand questions piled in the front of your mind, but the first that escaped your mouth was: “How do you know my language?” He didn’t have an accent, but you knew he didn’t learn English at school like you did.

He covered your hand with his much bigger one, he was crouching in front of the cage, but still towered over you by far. “I’ve been to earth many times, little human,” he explained. He was rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand, and your body was slowly melting.

It ached, you ached, to be closer to him. But you denied yourself of that, you didn’t understand what your body was feeling, maybe it was Stockholm syndrome or something. Even if that syndrome was bullshit and he wasn’t the one who kidnap you.

“Why?” You asked. You didn’t exactly know about what you were asking, you only knew… need. Need like no other. To know. To meet. To touch. It was driving you slowly made not to be as close to him as possible. You crawled to him, and he helped you out of the cage, but you were still on the floor as he crunched next to you.

“Political affairs. I know your world leaders very well,” he said with a chuckle, his mouth tilting in something that (you hoped) was a try to smile but looked more like a grimace. That only answered part of your confusion, but at last it was something.

“Who are you?” You finally let out, your brain clearing enough to question him on the important part. Being closer to him made your mind clearer, and that should scare you. But it didn’t, you couldn’t be scared when he was so close.

“I am the commander of the intergalactic alliance,” he let out in a formal tone, just to go back to his shooting one when he added: “and I’m your mate, my lovely human.”

“Like the Australians?” You asked, trying to make sense of something.

He laughed, throwing his head back and arching his neck in a way that made your mouth water to bite him. Where the fuck did that thought come from? You stepped closer, his body so close to yours that you could feel the heat emanating from his colorful skin.

“No, little human. Not like the Australians,” and that was everything he said as he took your hand, and helped you up, leading you away from the creepy monster pet shop.

A/N: Reminder that you can read all my other stories back in @monstersflashlight (all organized in this masterlist), thanks for reading!

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

wake up call

Summary: Joel was looking forward to a blissfuly at least 10 hours of sleep after being on patrol non stop for a week. Confused after waking up after only a couple of hours he is beyond pissed once he finds out it's a lawnmower of all things that woke him up twenty years into the apocalypse. And he sure as hell is gonna let his neighbour know how he feels about that, no matter how good she looks in those leggings.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Raiting: T

Warnings: lawnmowers at 7 am, a very sleep deprived Joel Miller, yelling, yelling while naked, Joel being kind of a dick but making up for it, tension, flirting, one or two inappropriate thoughts, it's pretty tame tbh

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

Joel was beyond exhausted. 

With a group of raiders getting a little too close to Jackson than they liked, the last week had been non stop patrol with only little sleep. 

But yesterday, finally, they had gotten the group taken care off and Joel had gotten home at 3 am, intending to not leave his bed until at least noon. He had checked on Ellie who was passed out asleep in her bed, the book she had been reading fallen out of her hands, now laying on the floor. He had picked it up, tucked her in and turned off the lamp on her bed side table, releasing a long, tired sigh as he made his way towards his room afterwards. 

Within fifteen minutes he had taken a quick shower, making sure to use the blackout curtains he had found in the basement a month earlier, before he passed out in his bed, in a blissful, dreamless sleep. 

A sleep that ended way earlier than he anticipated. With his eyes still closed, he turned from his belly on his back, eyes slowly blinking open with a frown. 

The red digits of the clock on his bedside table glaring at him at 6:58 am (or whatever time it actually was. The satellite to the clock probably having died a long time ago)

He threw an arm over his eyes, slivers of light coming though his curtains, the day outside slowly starting while he wanted nothing more than to fall back asleep. 

Why did he wake up?

Eyes dropping back closed, he was about to turn to his side, pulling his blanket up when he heard it. 

A noise. 

A low hum that he couldn’t place at first. 

He searched his brain, the noise somehow familiar much like the annoyance that came with it. 

A sound from another time. 

A time where he also tried to sleep in, only for his little girl to climb into his bed, equally grumpy about being woken up by the same noise he was hearing now. 

Back then it was the Adlers impeccable timing of mowing their lawn precisely at 7 am every Saturday morning, even though the could have done it any other day of the week. Still, instead of using the time they were at home all week while the rest of the population went to work, like clockwork, they would mow their lawn every Saturday at 7 am sharp. 

„What the fuck?“ He whispered to himself, turning his head towards the window as if he could see through the curtain what was going on outside. 

It was twenty fucking years into the end of the world, who was mowing their lawn at 7 am on his day off?

With a mood worse than when Tommy had crashed Joel’s first car before the outbreak he got out of the bed, naked as he had fallen asleep with a groan, stomping towards his window. He ripped the curtains apart, eyes squinting from how bright it was on this summer morning already when his eyes finally fell on who was the culprit in his sleepy plans. 

You. 

His new neighbour. 

He had seen you in passing a couple of times since you got here. 

Maria had told him you had fled from a year long capture of some slavers, urging him to take it easy on you and not be his usual asshole self with being new neighbours and all. 

He had scowled all the way back home.

It had not been his fault that the men who had lived in your house before had been a fucking creep. He had to punch him in the face. Really. 

Taking a deep calming breath he looked down towards your backyard now, his bedroom window facing it, giving him the perfect view on whatever the hell you were doing. 

He noticed that the garden looked well taken care off now, not like the jungle like garden he had in the back of his house. You had cut down some trees, getting rid of some bushes. There were some flowers blooming close to the fence, but in the middle was you. 

Wearing what looked like leggings and a baby pink tank top, pushing a fucking lawnmower through the knee high grass. 

The picture was so foreign to him, he forgot why he was mad for a second. 

It was the lawnmower throwing him off, of course. Or the way you seemed to have no idea how to mow the lawn in the first place, going through your garden in pure chaos. 

It wasn’t you in that outfit that hugged every curve of your body like a second skin. It wasn’t the way he could see the sweat running down your neck even from how far away he was standing as you pushed the mower through your garden. And it definitely wasn’t how your ass looked when you bend down to reach for something, his cock twitching in interest he ignored. 

No.

It was the fucking lawnmower.

Before he knew what he was doing he had ripped the window open. 

„What the fuck are you doing? You want us all to get killed just to have an English fucking lawn?“ He yelled loudly, internally cringing at the way he saw you jump before your head snapped towards him. The noise of the lawnmower stopped and you brought one of your glove covered hands up to shield your eyes from the sun as you looked up. 

He didn’t see the way your eyes widened to not only see him, but to see him as naked as the day he was born standing in his bedroom window. 

„Good morning to you too!“ You yelled back and Joel felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. 

„Stop this fucking nonsense, or I will,“ he said with a huff and now he saw you roll your eyes. 

„Just so you know, I got permission to use it form the council. Fixed the lawnmower myself,“ you said almost proudly, your eyes finally drifting away from his impressive manhood, looking at his garden. 

„Think your garden could use it too,“ you said, before you looked up at him again. 

„I mean it, stop it, or I will,“ he warned before he closed his window and the curtains again. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, his breathing rapid as he tried to calm down, agitated about the audacity of the woman living next to him. 

And what if she had the permission for this nonsense? But to do it at 7 am? 

He released a long breath before he padded over to his little ensuite bathroom, doing his business before he got back into bed, intending to fall back asleep again when the noise outside started again. 

He could let this go. Turn around, hide his head under his pillow and fall asleep. 

Hell, he slept through much worse things since the outbreak started and even before. 

Instead he got up, threw the curtains and window open and yelled:

„Get that fucking thing off!“ 

This time you didn’t even look at him. But you did react, holding one of your hands up, giving him your middle finger while you continued to mow the lawn, seemingly without any plan what you were doing. 

„Fuck this,“ he hissed to himself, before he turned away from the window and searched for his clothes. 

You were getting the hang of this thing, when you saw something move beside you. Turning your head around your eyes widened when you saw your neighbour walk towards you, this time dressed, but no less handsome. 

Making sure to turn the lawnmower off you took a deep breath before you turned fully towards him, ready to argue with him some more when he held one of his hand up in surrender. 

„Let me mow the fucking lawn so I can go back to sleep. I got home from patrol at 3 am. I just wanna sleep and I can’t do this with whatever it is you think you’re doing here,“ he said and your mouth dropped open in offence, ready to argue with him when you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. 

You had heard about the group of raiders that had been threatening the town these last weeks. And you knew you neighbour Joel Miller, even though you hadn’t really talked to him before, was in charge of leading patrol. 

And yeah, maybe it was a dick move to test the lawnmower at 7 am but the last week had been so hot and you had been so excited to finally got the permission to try it out, since construction was working outside of the wall today and would be able to keep an eye on anyone who could have heard you make this noise that you wanted to take care of this before the heat got worse. 

„I’m…. It’s okay. I’ll stop. I didn’t realise….“ you stumbled over your words and Joel stepped closer, making your breath hitch as you tilted your head up to look at him. 

„Please. As an apology. Lemme mow your lawn,“ he said, head tilted as he looked down at you with those big brown eyes and you felt yourself take a step back, almost stumbling over your own feet when he gave you a small smile. 

Joel on the other side flexed his fingers as he walked past you before his hand gripped the handle of the lawnmower, knuckles almost turning white as he inhaled the soft scent of lavender you carried with you. 

„I’ll…. I’ll get you some coffee,“ you mumbled and he raised one eyebrow as he looked at you, already feeling the sweat run down his back from the way the sun was burning down at him. 

„You have coffee?“ He started the lawnmower and you nodded. 

„Might make me less of an asshole once I had one,“ he joked, winking at you and you felt yourself smile while your cheeks flushed. 

„That’s all it takes? A coffee to tame the asshole?“ You teased and his shoulders shook with a huff. 

„I said might. Guess we gonna find out once I had it,“ he said before he turned his head from you and started going in straight lines through your garden. 

And you watched him. Watched him as you walked inside. Watched him as you made the coffee. Watched him as you cut down a piece of the lemon cake you had made the day before. Watched him as he pulled at the front of his shirt to wipe away some sweat from his forehead giving you a nice view of the chest and the little trail of hair leading down towards his groin< you had seen earlier when he yelled down at you. 

You set everything up on the small table on your back porch, thankful that it sat under a tree, giving you some shade. 

Faster than you would ever been he was finished with the whole yard, rolling the lawnmower towards the little shed you had found it in before he walked towards your house and up to your back porch. He was sweating profusely and for some reason you thought about how it would taste when you liked it off of him. 

Shaking your head you smiled thankful at him when he let himself sit down across from you, reaching for the coffee. 

„Fuck, that’s good,“ he moaned after the first sip of coffee and you clenched your thighs at his tone. 

„Good enough to get rid of the asshole?“ You asked with a smirk and he shook his head with a small grin. 

„I’m sorry for yelling. I’d say I’m not usually like that but I’d be lyin’“ he said and you laughed. 

„At least you’re honest,“ you said and he sighed, reaching for the piece of cake, before he almost inhaled it. 

„Fuck, that was delicious,“ he groaned and you smiled. 

„I’m glad. It’s a sorry and a thank you,“ you said and he nodded, before he got up with a groan. 

„Just doing some neighbourly things. Don’t have the best track record with being a people person,“ he shrugged as he walked down your back porch. 

„Still, thank you. You got it done much faster than I would and now you can go back to sleep and I promise I won’t wake you,“ you smiled as you followed him. 

„Much appreciated, darlin’,“ he said. 

You sucked your bottom lip in as you looked after him. 

„Though if you feel the need to yell at me again, do it from your bedroom window again…“ You said and he turned to look at you, frowning.

„I enjoyed the view,“ you winked and it took a couple of seconds before his eyes widened, finally realising he had been completely naked and you most likely got a full view of his junk. 

He gulped, before he hummed. 

„That so?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„I’ll keep that in mind, darlin’“ he winked with a small smirk, before he made his way back to his house where he took a shower and moaned your name as he jerked off thinking about what your body looked like beneath the tight clothes you had been wearing today. 

Before he finally, finally got to bed and slept. 

[4rticbolt]

Death Of Pizzaz |Master-list|

Trafalgar Law x !Fem!Reader, fluffy, spicy, first kiss, yearning Law cause why not, make-out, he's a tease fr, you test his patience, bickering

You have some sharpies to your 'arsenal' and your dear captain is your victim...

Ya'll this is actually my favorite song, and new favorite fic.

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

It was creeping into a late evening on the Polar Tang. The crew had tiredly retreated to their rooms after night watch had taken over in navigation. You quietly walked through the halls to your captain's room, surrounded in a dark hue from the seal covered windows and the dark sea. Small circular lights lit up your path, following from the floor to the stairs, overcasting a soft white glow throughout the sub.

You hopped down the final step, gently knocking on Law's door as you couldn't be bored any longer. You had spent about an hour trying to fall asleep, but ultimately you gave in and craved the presence of your lover. A muffled "Come in," sounded from the door and you casually strolled in, stuffing your hands in your pockets you created an unmistakable clink of sharpies you'd grabbed from your room.

A little decor couldn't hurt, could it?

Your captain was the unsuspecting victim as he hadn't taken his attention off the comic he was reading, something he'd have tossed and hidden if it wasn't for your familial gaze. You'd picked up on his nerdy tendencies a long time ago, and Law eventually excepted his fate, giving it up to share with you. His hair was an unkept and messy, something you had come to love along with his flimsy tank, praising the view it gave you.

“What are you doing?” Law rumbled, reclining silently against the couch as he'd stashed his hat and sword safely away by his desk.

“What I can’t have quality time?” You asked, feigning absolute innocence as you'd crawled into his lap, soaking up his touch. You always loved these quiet relaxed moments. And it wasn't often he let go like this, more-overly stressed and constantly planning for the future ahead, he was barely at ease.

But with you in his arms he could make an exception.

He let out a final hum in response. "Depends what your after," he noted, adjusting himself under your weight, shifting his back against the couch's armrest. Law soothingly brought his hand to rub over your shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment.

You quietly watched as he closed his comic in hand, unknowingly knowing he was listening to your heartbeat, which thudded softly against his upper thigh.

You didn't know it, but your captain tended to listen to your pulse for a sense of comfort, remembering you were there with him, and that you were real. That it wasn't some dream, and that he wasn't in some nightmare where you weren't.

He always adored when you were like this, needfully resting by his side away from prying eyes--though he'd never admit it. Law would let his guard down with you, settling still in your innocent embrace. He opened his eyes to watch you shift, taking in the way your head gently rested against his hip.

He thought it was a heartfelt gesture really, but when he felt you grab his arm and pull it to your chest he thought otherwise. A soft click emitted into the quiet room and a cold swipe crossed his skin leaving a confused noise to leave Law's lips.

"What the hell are you doing?" he voiced, quickly pulling away your wrist.

"Nothing, just gimme your arm," you replied, trying to grab it again.

"Seriously? ____ I'm not you're coloring book, no."

"Oh don't be so stuck up, it'll wash off eventually," you stubbornly grabbed his arm and continued to trace his tattoos, ignoring him completely. You were off in your own world now as you had your very grumpy captain to your demise. You didn't pay attention to the way he'd grumble or watch.

A few minutes passed and you'd finally fucked up before you scribbled over your design, "Okay, that's enough." Law cut sharp to your name, and grabbed you pen tossing it aside to his table.

"Really?" he deadpanned, taking in the scribbled pieces.

"What? It'll wash off."

"Yeah, in a few days, it's literally black sharpie you idiot," Law scolded, flicking your forehead with a scoff.

You let out your own huff, shifting in his arms to sit comfortably sit on his lap, relaxing your side against his chest. You closed your eyes when Law's arms wrapped around you again, and his lip quirked in amusement at your masked grumblings.

He often was firm with you--but it could never stay that way. Though his irritated expression relaxed as he called you name to intrigue your regard again.

“You realize these are permanent tattoos, right?” He asked, gently swiping him thumb across your right hip.

"Yeah, I just enhanced em' though." You said absentmindedly.

"I think you should get it re-tattooed like that."

. . .

Law snorted, manhandling you to face him, "I love your artwork and all but I think I'll post-pone that." he remarked, bringing his hands to your sides. You immediately faked a hurt look and he cracked. He couldn't look you straight in the eyes when they grew glossy like that, "You're serious?" he muttered swallowing unbelievably hard. You shattered his resolve, and he feared he might not be able to say no.

"You broke my heart Law, I put my soul into that." you said dramatically, seemingly putting an ease to his inner torment you caused...but it only irked him. He flickered you again creating a red spot and you quietly yelped, covering it.

He really thought you were serious, and he'd been a sucker enough to believe you.

"It just looks better," You retaliated, squirming in his arms as he'd reached a ticklish spot.

"Better? Really? You must've borrowed that shitty soul from one of Bepo's maps then," he snarked, cracking a smile as he'd finally gotten a laugh out of you. He'd come to love that sound the more and more he knew you, every day and every moment he loved to hear it, to see it.

Your chaotic remarks and energy were his livelihood, and he'd at times been too dense to see it. It had taken years before there's been an ounce of romance in your relationship, and that was after years of trustworthy hardships.

Law had finally backed you off his lap, putting an end to your 'assault,' which brought you to hide between his thighs with a muffled "Shut up!"

“Oi, don’t do that,” He stumbled, feeling a pit in his stomach. His arms quickly came up under your's, sliding you upright and back into his lap, which seemed to relieve the strange tension in his stomach. He'd been a fool to say it wasn't a common feeling. It felt strong, specifically and only for you. And he'd always been the one to try and ignore it.

He wasn't sexually inclined, as he said he didn't have time for it. It wasn't his main goal, and he didn't have time for lust and desire--meaning it wasn't his strong suit. You'd been the flirty type in the past, but if he simply wasn't ready--he wasn't ready; and you never held him to that.

“Don’t what?” You deadpanned, obviously irritated with the way he 'antagonized' you.

“Don’t pout,” he said, brushing off his blush as he grabbed your chin, tilting your head back to look at him. Law couldn’t tell if you were being dense or doing it on purpose. Either way: it was infuriating.

“I’m not.”

"You are," Law interjected, taking in your form atop him. His mind wandered and he knew he was in trouble. Because he knew that no matter what he tried to ignore, he was always wrapped around your pretty little finger; and regardless...that's all you were, trouble.

You for once, seemed to quiet. Finally put at a loss for you own words with his firm tone. Your voice practically died in your throat and you couldn't help but question his intense gaze, you hadn't seen him look at you like that before...

Maybe once or twice but never like that, and it pissed you off when he could put you in your place before you could even begin to argue.

"I. am. not." you acted, challenging him as you leaning forward, bringing your hands to his chest--attempting to hold your ground. But it faltered when he drug his hand to your throat, and that god awful smirk cross his face.

“Mm, yeah not anymore,” He whispered, overthrowing your feigned little flirty act, gently squeezing your throat. He saw your face light up and he let out a whispery laugh.

On the other hand, you were internally panicking, opting to lean back--because Law had never been this forward with you! He'd been dense about that kinda thing, but obviously this was not the freaking case.

You swallowed against his hand, leaning back, but his lips caught you before you could own up to it. You swore you heard a groan leave his lips before it swallowed your own, and your head spun. You leaned forward, shifting your hips to push against his--and it only seemed to encourage him.

His free hand squeezed your hip, and the hand around your throat tightened, though it was uncomfortable. It was more like a handle for him to hold you. Regardless, your breath shuddered and you forced yourself to breathe through your nose. He'd caught you off guard and you couldn't seem to get a grip.

You finally parted to breathe and his own blush matched your own. He gave a whole lotta' talk and do behind his pose, but deep down he was just as flustered as you.

"Don't be a smart ass," you muttered, bringing his hand away from from you, but it only tightened around your smaller hand...

“Then don’t stick your head where it doesn’t belong.”

. . .

"You--I didn't--"

"What?" he asked impassively, blankly holding your hands in his own. He shifted causally beneath you and he was doing it on purpose...that sarcastic bastard.

"Don't what me you know what!" you snapped, trying to pull your hands away, but he held on. His smirk grew and your blush heightened.

"What you like my hand around your throat? Figured, I didn't know it'd shut you up though." he said lowly.

"Trafalgar Law!"

[littlelamy]

req!! reader always have a hard time sleeping and is always sleepy and rafe’s trying all the methods in the books despite humself being sleepy as hell :3

lamy's note: hope you like it!

the bedside clock glared 3:47 a.m. in bold red digits, mocking you as you laid tangled in the sheets. your eyes burned from exhaustion, yet sleep clung just out of reach like a cruel tease. every time you closed your eyes, your mind whirled—memories, worries, stray thoughts—spinning in circles that left you breathless.

rafe stirred beside you, his usual heavy, even breaths now disrupted by your tossing and turning. despite the darkness, you could feel the concern radiating from him.

“still can’t sleep?” his voice was low, gravelly from fatigue, but soft, like he didn’t want to startle you.

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “no. it’s like… my brain doesn’t know how to shut up.”

rafe shifted, propping himself up on one elbow. the moonlight filtering through the curtains caught the edges of his messy hair, casting shadows on his face. “what if i read to you? isn’t that supposed to help or something?”

“you hate reading,” you pointed out, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the exhaustion.

“yeah, well, i’ll do it for you,” he said, already reaching for the book on your nightstand—one of those random novels you’d been meaning to finish for months. he flipped it open, squinting at the tiny text. “fuck, why is the font so small? what is this, a book for ants?”

you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. “maybe this isn’t the best idea.”

“no, no, i got this,” he insisted, clearing his throat dramatically before reading aloud. his voice was monotone, the kind of flat, over-enunciated reading that made it impossible to focus on the story. still, you appreciated the effort, the way he stumbled over words but kept going anyway.

it lasted about five minutes before he groaned, slamming the book shut. “all right, new plan.”

“what now?” you asked, rolling onto your side to face him.

“heard somewhere that, like, breathing exercises help,” he said, mimicking slow, exaggerated breaths like he was leading a yoga class. “you know, in through your nose, out through your mouth. all that zen shit.”

you raised an eyebrow. “are you seriously going to sit here and make me do breathing exercises?”

“hell yeah, i am,” he replied, determined. “come on, follow me. in…” he inhaled deeply, shoulders rising dramatically, “and out.”

you tried to mimic him, but halfway through, his exaggerated exhale turned into a ridiculous wheezing noise, and you both dissolved into laughter.

“okay, that’s definitely not working,” you said, clutching your stomach as the laughter subsided.

rafe flopped back onto the bed, running a hand down his face. “shit, you’re right. i’m running out of ideas here.”

“you don’t have to do this,” you said softly, guilt tugging at your chest. “you’re tired too.”

he turned his head to look at you, his expression serious. “yeah, but it kills me seeing you like this. i just… i want to help.”

the sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten. “i know. and it means a lot.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet of the room settling around you like a blanket. then rafe sat up suddenly, snapping his fingers. “got it. i’m making you tea.”

“tea?” you echoed, watching as he climbed out of bed, his movements sluggish but determined. “it’s the middle of the night.”

“yeah, and tea fixes everything. ask anyone.”

you chuckled, sitting up as he disappeared into the kitchen. a few minutes later, he returned, a steaming mug in hand. “hot tea, freshly made by yours truly. careful, it’s probably hot as hell.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you said, but you took the mug anyway, the warmth seeping into your fingers. “thank you.”

he sat back down beside you, watching as you sipped cautiously. “so? does it taste like sleep?”

you smiled. “not yet. but it’s nice.”

he nodded, leaning back against the headboard. “good. because if this doesn’t work, i’m out of ideas. unless you want me to, like, sing you a lullaby or something.”

the thought of rafe singing was enough to make you laugh again, the sound soft and unguarded. “i think i’ll pass on that.”

“your loss,” he teased, but his smile was gentle, his eyes warm as he watched you.

eventually, the tea and the quiet began to work their magic. your eyelids grew heavy, your body sinking into the mattress as sleep finally crept in. rafe stayed beside you, his hand brushing lightly against yours as he whispered, “just close your eyes. i’m here.”

taglist: @namelesslosers @maybanksangel @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @rafesheaven @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog @slavicangelmuah @alivinggirl @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @rafesbabygirlx

[oneforthemunny]

clandestine meetings (remastered) |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader| part three

prompt: sneaking around with eddie catches up to the two of you. part three of the series

age gap, but everything is consensual. reader is 25-26. eddie is 42. if this isn't for you, don't read.

contains: minors dni. age gap, swearing, p in v sex, oral fem recieving, language, slight angst.

You liked being with Eddie.

You liked Eddie, a lot. 

You liked how he liked you. You liked how you felt when you were with him. You liked how he made you feel. 

There were a lot of things that you liked about being with Eddie.

Best of all, you liked that he was all yours. Your own little secret. 

A secret that was all your own, just the two of you- well, and Lydia. You had to tell someone. 

A week earlier, you’d given her the giggly confession while you were both making drinks. She had nearly spilled the cappuccino, giving you a wide eye, gawking gasp, the steaming beverage just barely missing her hand.

“The dad?” Lydia blinked, mouth gaping in shock. You could only nod, lip tucking between your teeth, trying to keep your giddy composure. “The one that came in here a while ago?” 

“Yeah, that one.” You nodded, shoving the plastic cup on the drink, setting it on the pick up counter.

 "And… how old is he exactly?" Her brow quipped in question.

You'd grinned. "It’s not that bad. He's only, like, forty...two."

Lydia gave you a laugh that sounded more like a screech of surprise, eyes cutting towards the counter to compose herself. "So, you totally don’t have to answer this- this is me being your friend, not your manager right now, but I gotta know- Is he good?" She asked in a low tone, head ducking down towards yours.

You shook your head, heat prickling in the pit of your tummy when you thought about it- thought about how Eddie had you last night, clawing at his shoulders, yanking at his curls when he went down on you, how it had left you screaming. "Really good."

And he was.

Eddie didn’t rush like the other guys did- guys your own age. Always fast and greedy, not caring about you only chasing their own high. With Eddie, it was like his entire purpose was to please you. As if he had somehow found a book on you, what you liked, how you liked it, and studied it cover to cover. Always knowing the perfect pace, angles, positions that made you gush and scream, clamped around him and clawing at his tattooed shoulders or back until you saw stars.

Your head would reel, babbling mindlessly as he’d fuck you into the mattress. “There, right there, Eddie, fuck.” Tears streamed down your face as you gripped his wrist that was rubbing lazy circles around your clit.

“Right there?” Eddie grunted, a smile on his face as he delivered a particularly hard thrust that had you giving a low, throaty moan.

“Yes.” You whined, high and whiny, the way he liked it. You’d learned that about him now. “So fuckin’ good. Please don’t stop.” You begged.

You felt so full, full of him. His cock was pounding your sweet spot, making you see stars. You were close, you had been for hours. Since you’d come to his house after your shift at the cafe, he’d been on you. Hungry from the moment he saw you, pulling you into a feverish kiss, consuming your mouth in his, pushing you against the counter. He’d gone down on you in the kitchen, dropping to his knees, joints popping and a slight groan leaving his lips that had you giggling before you were bent over the kitchen table, clawing the wooden table as his tongue devoured you.

You were hooked.

In every way. Not just with the sex- though it was better than you ever could have imagined. It was refreshing, comforting the way he was just so sweet to you. 

Always opening your door, pressing kiss disguised compliments to your cheek that left you blushing. He’d give you his jacket when you were cold- because you always forgot yours,and wouldn’t huff about it, no snarky backhanded remarks that left you feeling small and stupid. On the colder nights, when you were walking to his car after dinner dates, he’d take your hands in his, rubbing his calloused palms over yours to keep you warm, flashing you a grin.

“You gotta get you some gloves, baby.” Eddie tutted, voice raspy with years of nicotine intake. “Gonna get sick.” Your heart would rush with adrenaline heat, leaning into his side, gooey with warmth.

You’d blushed, shrugging. “I don’t need one. I can just put them in my pockets.” Shoving them into your- his jacket.

Eddie snorted, giving you a pointed look that left you grinning mischievously. “Yeah? In the jacket you always forget?”

You gave him a small shrug, lips twisting in a grin. “‘S not that far of a walk. I’ll be fine without it.” 

Eddie would grin, pull you close to him, lips pressing to your head in a kiss. “Gotta have one or the other in this cold weather. Fuckin’ freezing out here, and you can’t be freezing, too. Can’t be gettin’ sick on me, baby. Don’t wanna miss our date nights because you caught a cold.” Your heart had soared, sure it would burst right out of your chest. He liked spending time with you too. 

If his words weren’t confirmation enough, the next day when he’d picked you up, knitted gloves sitting in your seat, wrapped in a satin bow and with a tag you recognized from an overly priced boutique downtown. “Figured you needed some.” Eddie shrugged when you’d thanked him. “Thought they looked like you, y’know? Brielle likes that store, so I went in there.” 

“I love them.” You grinned, cheeks straining, aching from how much you’d been smiling lately- how could you not? When Eddie made you so happy. “You didn’t- Let me pay you back. It’s too much-” 

Eddie only scoffed, shoving your hand lightly when you reached for your purse. “I wanted to get them for you. You need some anyway. I figured if they were cute, you might wear them.” Eddie winked at you. 

“Besides, I liked spoilin’ you. Let me spoil you a little, you deserve it.” His words had you in a cloud, leaning across the bench of his truck to kiss him, sloppy and sweet, uncaring. 

For all the affection and adoration that came with being with Eddie, there was a slimmer of something exhilarating. Maybe it was the age difference, that he was closer to your parent’s age than your own. Maybe it was the chaos of it all, that your little sister and his daughter brought the two of you together, an unlikely meeting and an even more unlikely relationship blossoming. 

Maybe it was the secrecy. 

The sneaking around. It felt different than it did in high school, sneaking out to meet guys, hook up in basement bathrooms. It was more mature, the affair of it all, more sophisticated. Eddie would take you out, just not in Hawkins, always a town or two over- the two of you worrisome that you’d run into someone you knew, though neither of you ever said it out loud.  

You’d stay the night, Friday nights, when Eddie didn’t work the Saturday shift. You’d wake up tangled in his sheets, padding down to the kitchen in one of his shirts, aways with a metal hair band from the 80s and 90s. 

“1983 tour, hm?” You hummed, looking at the worn and faded shirt before slipping it on, the fabric soft with age. 

“Yeah, Saxon. They were pretty good. Me and my friends snuck in, pushed our way through the barricade. Actually, we got that shirt off some drunk guy. He dropped it and we snatched it, kept it in my back pocket while he was lookin’ for it.” Eddie snickered at the memory, head shaking slowly. 

“Sounds like fun.” You smiled warmly back at him, hands smoothing over the wrinkles of the fabric. 

“Yeah, it was.” Eddie nodded slowly. He sat for a moment, brows knitting when he looked back at you. “Were- 1983, were you even born then?” 

You only giggled, a nervous heat rising through your throat. It was one of the first times the age gap was mentioned between the two of you, the obvious pointed out and pulled into the light. 

Selfishly, you didn’t want it to come to light, not just yet. You were comfortable in the shadows for now. Comfortable in his kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. Sometimes you’d sit on the back porch with him, curled up in the seat next to him while he smoked, slow. 

Other times you’d sit at the table, take in every detail of the home. The slightly outdated decor, a hidden hint at when he’d moved in, when he’d gotten divorced. Pictures of Brielle covered the house, her throughout the years preserved through school photos and candids in frames, on the fridge. She looked so much like him, but had features of someone else- her mom, the woman you were petrified of, yet so intrigued about. 

This morning was the same. Another night out, to a brewery two towns over. The night was spent playing skii ball in the very hipster-ish place, still, Eddie had won. He told you he would. “This used to be my fuckin’ game back in the day, baby. I’d always win at the arcade.” 

He’d taken you home, the two of you fucking on the bed, drunken and silly and giggly until you collapsed, overwhelmed in exhausted. You’d woke up in his arms, warm against his chest. 

Eddie was gone in the morning, an early riser, he’d told you the first night when you mentioned his absence. Arms stretching out, you groaned lightly, head pulsing a little from the alcohol the night before, mouth too dry for your liking. 

You were floating, warm and smiley, despite the slight hangover. Even that couldn’t damper your mood, the buzz and thrill of domesticity, of love. Maybe it was too early to say that, you weren’t sure. 

The routine was familiar now; get your coffee, open the blinds, and sit in your own peace until Eddie came in from smoking, then you’d cook breakfast together. Simple, domestic, and oh so sweet. 

The front door opened, you turned, smiling, ready to greet Eddie. Your face fell as you met a different pair of puddle eyes.

“What the fuck?” Brielle jumped, eyes widening as she stumbled back out of the door, looking from the outside back at you in horrified shock, like she’d somehow made a mistake, walked through the wrong door and into an alternate reality.

Your breath caught in your throat, too terrified to speak, unable to even if you wanted to. What do you say? What could you say? Was there anything to say anyways?

“Are you-“ Brielle shook her head, curls that matched Eddie’s falling around her, gawking at you with disbelief. “W-What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? What is- This isn’t real. No fuckin’ way. What are you doing here?”

“Brielle, I-I-“

“Did you get your coffee, baby?” Eddie’s soft voice filled the space as he stepped in off the back porch, the sliding door latching softly. “I left you a mug on the-“ He stopped in the doorway of the kitchen, face falling, eyes widening when he saw his daughter with a similar look of horror and shock.

Brielle’s mouth fell, eyes rounding and darting from you to Eddie. “You-” Brielle looked at you. 

“A-And you-” Her words stuttered, jumbling through her shock, maybe her repulsion when she looked at Eddie, face snarling in complete disgust. 

“Oh, I’m gonna be sick.” Brielle groaned, cringing as she turned on her heel to walk out the front door.

“Brielle,” Eddie sighed sharply, a hand sliding down his face, heavy footsteps following her out the door. “Brielle, just wait a second.”

Your body was frozen in place, unable to move even if you wanted to, head reeling with embarrassment- with realization. You could hear the voices of the father-daughter duo outside, Eddie’s desperate soothing tone blending with Brielle’s high pitched screech of horror.

“-Brielle, just calm down-“

“-Have you lost your mind?” Brielle shrilled. “She’s Maddy’s sister- her sister, an-and she’s like twenty-”

“-No, she’s not-.” 

“-She’s like my age, dad!” 

“No, she’s not, Brielle. Stop.” Eddie huffed. “This really isn’t your business-“

“What?” Brielle shrieked loudly, making you cringe inside the house. “You-You’ve lost it. You have fucking lost your mind! I-I don’t even- I don’t know if this is a midlife crisis or something, but you’ve lost your mind. This is crazy.”

"Brielle Jo, get back here. I'm talkin' to you. Do not slam that door." Eddie's voice was hard, stern with a gruff edge you hadn't seen since the first time you'd met. His hand pushed her car door open, eyes narrowing at her. 

"I thought you were at your mama's today." He hesitated, gripping the door with a white knuckled fist.

"I forgot my textbook." Brielle glared, tone filled with annoyance. "And I tried to call you, but," Her eyes cut toward the house, where you were still inside, shivering in disgust all over again. 

"I'm leaving." She declared, reaching for the door handle.

Eddie's shoulders slumped in defeat, moving so she could slam the door. Hands ran down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Your legs shook when you stood, hands wringing nervously, watching Eddie with careful eyes when he finally came back in. "Maybe I should go." You suggested, your voice soft and timid, breaking the deafening silence that filled the kitchen.

Eddie nodded, a hand running over his eyes, trying to rub away a headache that was beginning to form. "I think that would be for the best, baby." He gave a small sad smile that still made your heart flutter, just with a feeling that was unfamiliar- fear, maybe. 

"I just need to talk to Brie for a little bit. She-She's dramatic, y'know? Teenager." Eddie offered a small laugh, but it felt forced. It didn’t bring the relief that either of you hoped it would.

Your own reckoning came later that day.

Back to your apartment, you tried to keep yourself busy, keep your mind from spiraling further, anxious thoughts consuming every part of you. Keep your head from screaming the one damning thought that left you filled with fear- that it was over.

The vibrations on the table had you jumping, eyes cutting towards your phone, heart filling with hope that it was Ed. Madeline's name flashing across the screen instead. 

"Hello?"

"Are you ok?" Madeline's voice was calm on the other end.

You furrowed your brows. "Yeah, why?" The pause that followed had your stomach sinking, the way it did before there was a drop on a rollercoaster.

"Oh, you kow, I was just checking, because I'm pretty sure you've lost your fucking mind."

Ice ran through your veins, your spine wincing at her tone. You’d expected it, yet it still hurt. "Maddy, I-"

"-Brielle's dad?" Madeline boomed, screaming into the speaker so loud you flinched, pulling the phone away. "Have you lost your mind? Like seriously, w-what the fuck?  Why-Why are you doing this?"

You stuttered, struggling to find the words when your heart was hammering this way. "Madeleine, I-I just,” You huffed. “It-It's none of your business, ok-"

"-It most certainly is!" Madeline screeched, her anger intensifying with her tone. 

"You're fucking my best friend's dad! My best friend’s dad, like- are you fucking insane?” 

“No, we’re- we’re not just- it’s not just-”

“-I get a call from Brielle, and she's going absolutely insane losing it on me, and telling me that her dad is having a midlife crisis because he’s fucking my sister, and she walked in on you two in the kitchen!"

"It-It's not like that, ok?" You stammered, a poor defense, but all you could muster.

"Not like that?" Madeline repeated with a huff. “There shouldn’t even be a that! Why? Why would you do this? You couldn’t fuck someone your own age?” 

"It's not like that." You barked defensively. "We’re not just- I like him, ok? We’ve been going out, an-and he's really sweet, and he treats me really nice, and-and,” Your heart hammered in your throat, burning with tears that threatened to fall. 

“I-I'm not having this conversation with you. It's actually none of your business, anyways, and-and we're not doing anything wrong!" You snapped, voice shaking with emotions you tried to swallow down.

Madeline paused for a moment, a stand off of silence between the two of you. 

"Then tell Mom and Dad." She challenged, an edge to her tone that felt petulant- a true younger sister, you grit in bitter thought. 

You scoffed. "What are we, seven? You're going to tattle to Mom and Dad on me?"

"No, but tell them! I mean, you're so proud of this, and there’s nothing wrong with it, right? I mean, that’s what you said! You said there’s nothing wrong with it, so tell them!" Madeline sneered from the other line. 

"Tell them how you're fucking Brie's dad. Tell them how old he is, and that you’re in a relationship or whatever with him!"

"I'm not telling them that!" You snapped, throwing a hand up in frustration.

"Why? Because you're not doing anything wrong? Well, then tell them!" Madeline snapped back. "But you won’t, because you know it’s fucked up. And you’re scared they'll be upset. And they probably will because he's the same fuckin' age as Dad-"

"-Eddie is not the same age as Dad." You barked with a huff. "H-He's only forty-two."

"Eddie?" Madeline gasped, bitter and cold. You cringed, listening to her near mocking laugh back at you. "You're fucked up for this, you really are. Did you ever think about how this could affect my friendship?"

Your heart plummeted, guilt sinking and consuming every part of  your body. You hadn't really, outside of the fleeting thought at the beginning. You hoped it wouldn’t come, truthfully, or maybe that they’d be understanding. Maybe it would have been different, it was in your head, at least.  All the times you pictured it, you never imagined it would play out like this.  

You bit your lip, words caught in your throat, unsure what to say. Madeline gave a final scoff before hanging up, not giving you the chance to reply.

Phone in one hand, towel still clutched, unfolded in your other hand, you could do nothing but stare blankly, stunned by the events of the day- cause from your own actions. Your little Garden of Eden that you and Eddie had created with sweet touches and hidden words was gone now, crumbled and left you with an aching reality and uncertainty that had your stomach lurching. 

Eddie still hadn’t called. You got your wish, you supposed, left in the dark, but this time- you were alone.

[qwordavoider]

Fuck It Friday

Tagged by @inawickedlittletown

He is some more of my Dad, Not Donor wip! I am thinking about posting a few chapters of it soon to give myself time to get more of Parting Waves written. Hope you like it!

They waited for the next hour for Connor’s parents to arrive. Bobby had found some children's books on his way back from the cafeteria in the hospital library, so they were taking turns reading to him. He seemed to like Tommy the best because he could do different kinds of voices for all the characters. Since he had the concussion and other injuries to heal from, Liam spent most of the time with his eyes closed just listening. 

It was 10:05 when they finally heard rushing footsteps come down the hallway. Two people only slightly older than Bobby came rushing.

The woman he assumed was Connor’s mom had tears streaming down her face as she looked at Liam, then at Buck, then back at Liam.

Liam immediately tried to stand up in Buck’s lap. “Gramma!”

Buck stabilized him so he wouldn’t fall into the table they had put his food on. Connor’s mom stared at them both for a couple of seconds longer before she sobbed, turned around, and ran out of the room. 

Bucks couldn’t help but be mad at her with the way Liam’s face fell. He understood that everyone grieved differently, but Liam needed them right now. 

Liam then turned an expectant face to Connor’s dad “Grampa?” his voice quiet and sad. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go check on my wife. Can you just stay with him?” 

In that moment Buck wanted to yell at them, What the hell do you think I have been doing since last night? Your grandson needs you right now! But, he didn’t. He just turned to Tommy and gave him one look. Tommy nodded, Buck was grateful that he seemed to understand that he was asking him to go check on Connor’s parents. 

As Tommy left the room, Liam turned to Buck, eyes glistening “bye bye?”

Buck didn’t have it in his heart to try and explain why his grandparents just ran out of the room. He didn’t quite understand it himself. So, he just pulled Liam to his chest so he could hopefully try and get some more sleep.

no pressure tags: @moonydanny @chococara25

[shy-canadian-snowflake]

Poolverine 12. Writer and editor au

“And how many fucking times have you tried calling this guy?” Logan asked Ellie who looked far too tired for it to only be Monday. 

“Three on Thursday, ten on Friday, and so far sixteen today.” He checked his watch, it was only 11am. 

“You sure he’s not dead?” The woman shook her head, sitting up straighter as she pulled her computer close. Logan came around to her side, watching as she typed away. A website he knew his daughter used to post memes and ‘shit-posts dad, it’s a hellsite’ came up. She logged in and second later had another account up. 

“He’s been blogging all night. Memes, pokemon fanart, some boobs on his private account. This is his main where fans sometimes send questions and he sometimes answers them. That question there.” She pointed to a question. ‘Why don’t you get off your lazy ass and reply to your goddamn editor’. “I asked him that at 2am.  

Logan scratched at his scruff as he read the reply. ‘My dear dear Ellie, suck my dick. I’ll send you the next chapter once I’m done.’

“And that’s the only communication he’s given you? When the hell is his book due?” He lent back. Ellie turned in her seat and shook her head at him. 

“No. I sent him another question and he made a post about authors needing time to see their babies grow or some shit. That’s the last I heard from him, but he reblogged a cat playing in snow about a minute ago.” She was back on her laptop, refreshing the page. “And some fanart for his series.”

“Hm.” Logan grunted looking over the screen once more. Deadpool, real name Wade Wilson was a handful. That’s how he went through six editors in two years. Ellie was at her wits end and had called in Logan to deal with him. Logan was the editor they called in as a last choice. He wasn’t afraid to barge into an author's house and harass them until they wrote. Charles, the owner of the publishing house, said to him that this guy might be his biggest task yet.  “And when is his book due?”

“Next monday. He has a week to get three chapters done, and for me to edit them. Charles wanted it half a month ago.”

“Got it. Pack up your laptop, we are going to give this little prick a visit.” 

-

“Hey now, you’re an all star, something something, get paid.” A voice from the otherside of the door that the two editors stood at. Logan clenched his jaw as he knocked on the door. There was silence before a light patter of feet came to the door. Logan stood there with his arms crossed, Ellie just off to the side to not be seen by the author through the peephole. 

“Are you the dancer Dopinder got me for my birthday?” Came the voice on the other side of the door. Logan uncrossed his arms, and jutted out a hip. 

“Sure thing Bub. Open the door so we can get the party started, darlin’” The door was unlocked and thrown open with such speed it nearly got torn off its hinges. Logan didn’t waste another second, shouldering himself inside with Ellie on his heels. 

“What- Oh come on! You got me excited for nothing?” The man whine when he saw the woman enter. “What, did you get me this piece of eye candy in hopes to trade for the next chapter?”

Logan ignored the man as he looked around the room. Pizza boxes, random socks thrown on the floor, the dumbest looking dog he’d ever seen laying beside an open laptop. He moved towards the laptop and opened it up. 

“Chapter 23

What the actual fuck do I write here. They all died. The end.”

“Hey, that's private info that’s only supposed to be between me and the Xavier’s publishing house.” Wade had slapped the laptop out of Logan’s hands. It landed on the dog, who gave a disgruntled sniff and layed back down. 

“I am a fucking editor. He’s still working on chapter 23, what was the last chapter you got?” Ellie opened up her own laptop and was going through some documents. She looked a little less disheartened when she looked up again. 

“20.” Logan grabbed Wade by the shoulder and shoved him down beside the dog. With one hand holding him there, he bent down so they were face to face. He ignored the man’s pretty eyes as he spoke. 

“Here is what we are going to do Bub. You are going to give your editor those two chapters, then you and I are going to get the next few out. I don’t care if I have to tie you up and glue your hand’s to the fucking keyboard. You will start writing, and you will not stop until your fingers bleed. You are getting this done, today.” Wade looked from Logan to Ellie. 

“Where the hell did you find this guy? He’s going to get my dick hard, not get rid of my writer’s block.” Logan grabbed him, spun him around and pinned him on the floor, sitting on the man’s back. 

“I’m the editor they call when authors are being little shits.” Wade moaned into the floor and nodded. 

“Yeah, Okay. I can work with this. Sexy mafia boss business. Got a real bad boy air aboutcha ” 

“Send me the last two chapters Wade, and I can leave you two to… all this.” She waved a hand at them. Logan sat the computer in front of Wade, still sitting on his back. The man quickly sent the editor the last two chapters. He then opened his own document. 

“Chapter 23.

Write here about MC getting his fucking back blown out by some mafia boss-editor person.”

[obvithe-bestsoph]

No. 49 | "God, you're so fucking hot sometimes." PC2

masterlist requests

prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: suggestive, slight swearing

Why did you first fall for Pau? Because he’s cute, sweet, funny, and generally everything you want in a guy. But in times like this, you question that. There he is, just sitting on a lounger near the pool, looking hotter than ever. Sunglasses on, shirt off, hat backwards, tanned, biceps and abs on display. (picturing this:)

God, here you are, sitting next to his older sister and parents, just about melting into the ground over your boyfriend. When you had zoned out on his arms for just a few minutes too long, Irene nudged you, sniggering, but not in a mean way, more in a ‘you’re being so obviously whipped and not at all subtle’ way. 

You blink out of your rather lust-filled haze and look up at Pau’s face again, only to find him looking at you with that amused little smile of his. Usually quite shy, you blush and look away once more, only for him to pull you in by the neck for a second, to kiss the top of your head he then lets you curl up on your lounger and keep reading your book like you had been doing before.

You and Pau have always worked well together. You can both be shy and quiet, but also louder and more social, “ambiverts” as it gets called, a mix of introverted and extroverted. So some of you guys’ favourite dates you’ve had have been the quiet times cuddled up on his bed watching a movie, but you also both love going out for dinner and then a walk along the beach afterwards. 

Anyway, back to the present, the whole reason you guys are here on holiday in the first place, is in celebration of two gold medals in the most recent Paris Olympics, Pau winning for men’s football, and you for the Women’s Cycling BMX, hence the reward of a week in Ibiza. 

You glance up as Irene asks if you want a drink, you pass, but both of their parents agree and tell her they’ll go with her, meaning that you and Pau are alone for a while, so you go back to ogling your boyfriend. However, considering he’s no longer in a conversation with his father, he notices your staring almost immediately. “You’re really having trouble keeping your eyes to yourself today, hm?” he laughs. You blush and roll your eyes, “Shush. You just look nice today, is all.”

Teasingly, he starts to flex his bicep, but you are quick to push his arm down, until it’s back in his lap, “Put that down. No one else needs to see that.” now you’re laughing too. “Really? Because I think one person in particular does need to see that…” he teases once more, grinning. “Wait until we’re alone in the hotel room later, and then you can show me all the muscles you want, but right now, we’re in public, so calm down because I do not need to be thirsting over you when your papa is sitting right next to me. Sound good?” “Mmmmm, I think I’d rather just tease you all afternoon, actually.” “You wouldn’t.” “You know very well I would.” You glare at him slightly, fully aware that he would happily put you on edge for hours in the most innocent way possible. 

And so he did. Whether it was moving slightly so his abs looked better for you, flexing his bicep when his arm was around you so you could actually feel the muscle against your waist, smiling just the way he knows you like, putting his hand a little higher on your thigh than normal, occasionally brushing a single finger against where you want him, just in passing though, nothing that would really let you feel anything worthwhile. You were internally dying, arousal, in love, and screaming, you know, the usual mix for an 18-year-old girl.

It’s safe to say that the second the hotel room door was closed and locked, poor Pau didn’t have a second to breathe before you were on him, practically eating his face off while simultaneously ripping off his clothes. He realised then that his teasing throughout the day was now coming back to bite him in the ass, as he was going to need thoughts and prayers if he wanted to be able to walk properly tomorrow. 

He gets his second to breathe when you pull away as you do also need oxygen, panting and staring into those beautiful eyes of his. “God, you’re so fucking hot sometimes,” you murmur breathily, before pressing your lips against his again briefly, finally pulling away completely and walking towards the bed, without looking back, you call; “You better be following me right now, Cubarsí!” Pau quickly snaps out of his little daze, and follows after you, fully aware of what was being asked of him.

The next morning you woke up, naked, tangled in the white hotel sheets, the warmth of your boyfriend surrounding you, a heavy arm draped over your waist, it wouldn’t be incorrect to say you were very content and completely at peace.

[rise-my-angel]

God, the person who said Jon isn't a Stark... How can anyone say that when he's almost an exact carbon copy of his mother ? He's as Stark as Bael the Bard's son, who was also a Stark through matrilineal descent.

No but a biological father hes never met and never cared about in his entire life is more important then the mother he's always dreamed of knowing and the literal family he was raised with his entire fucking life, don't you get it?

Jons literally the most Stark and Northern character, but his sperm donor dad was a Targaryean so that's more important.

[pergaminaa]

(Modern au)

Manon’s dating life before Dorian

[cowboylikejesper]

the amount of anger that flows through my body every time i remember seeing someone on twitter say that jesper would cheat on wylan

[mamawasatesttube]

uh oh i can feel myself getting bogged down in the perfectionism sauce again... i need to write smth stupid and self indulgent ough

[stormtide-leviathan]

An order of events:

My changeling character makes a deal for information with a dryad for information, the cost of which is that the dryad feels my emotions for a day instead of me. (Bad deal for the dryad, my changeling Went Through It in the next 24 hours, that dryad felt some shit)

While under the effects of that lack of emotion, my changeling makes a bad deal with another goblin she probably wouldn't have while emoting as she normally does. The cost of that deal was that I would give him an update about the child of one of the PC's fetches (doppelgangers created to take a changeling's place in their life after the changeling is abducted). This is interesting, cause by all rights it's impossible for a fetch to have a child. While researching in the process of trying to learn enough for that update, my changeling learns something she'd have to share which would endanger that child if it got out- that the blood of a fetch's child is a potent weapon.

My changeling makes a third deal with a third being, far away from the other two, the cost of which is she has to give them "an interesting piece of information she learned recently". She gave up the fact that "a fetch's child's blood is a potent weapon", disconnected from the fact that such a child exists, and now can't share that particular tidbit with the goblin from the second deal.

Never gonna come back to bite me baby, keep wheeling and dealing 😎

[ahagia-sophia]

The moment I see the words "Star Wars" and "Political" in the same post, I immediately tune out.

If you're looking for a movie to spoonfeed you your politics, watch Judas and the Black Messiah. If you happen to be a literate Star Wars fan (rare), then read the Jakarta Method.

[kirbye]

I hate art tiktok why did I just see the take that realism is an “art style for conservatives” and “devoid of depth and creativity”. You have to be joking.