#the closest i will get to this is going to my friends house and smoking a joint + listening to his album

[iheartmoons]

do u know what wld fix me. some intense gay sex + then we play all of jeff buckley’s album Grace + smoke a joint together

[dorkszn]

COME AND GET THAT + logan howlett

SYNP — being home for the summer from school isn’t so bad. it isn’t so bad until your motorcycle stops working. and your dad tells you to call over the man that inspired you to get the bike in the first place and the closest one who could fix it, his best friend and your longtime crush, logan.

WARNINGS — masc reader, age gap ( no duh ), reader’s dad is kinda a dick, subbot reader, oral, petnames, logan’s a little mean, slight degradation, kitchen sex, hair pulling, eventual smut, porn with plot | 3.4K ( im sorry 😭 )

PART TWO ( coming soon )

Summertime. It’s such a wonderful time. You get out of school and can drive back to your hometown. You see your parents and siblings and get to flop onto the mattress of your old childhood bedroom.

But your favorite part? Getting to see your dad’s best friend, Logan. Who seems only to be getting hotter and hotter with each passing year. Only maybe you’re just getting more worked up and shy with every year that passes because each summer you can barely stand to look him in the eye or be alone in a room with him.

You’ve been home for about a week or two by this point, getting back into the comfort and schedule of your hometown life. Luckily but also somehow unfortunately, you have yet to see Logan since you returned. Hell, he probably doesn’t even know you’re home.

So imagine your surprise when you’re standing outside of your parent’s house with your dad, examining your sleek motorcycle that just wouldn’t start. You know how to do basic motorcycle care that of course, Logan taught you. He was the one who inspired and motivated you to get the damn bike anyways. So why were you surprised when your dad suggested calling him?

“Guess I’ll give Logan a call and see if he’s busy. He should know how to fix it,” your father says in a small sigh as he stands up straight.

“Wait, call Logan?” You repeat even though you know it’s dumb question and that you were just nervous to see him again since winter break.

“Yeah, Logan, you got a problem with that or something, squirt?” Your father responds slightly mockingly as he repeats your obviously odd question. You just grumble slightly under your breath.

“No, dad, just… go ahead and call em’,” you say in a sigh as the two of you stalk back towards the house. After that, it only takes half an hour before the inevitable and you see that familiar pickup pull into your driveway.

You reluctantly trail behind your dad like a clingy pup instead of a grown man to go greet Logan. You don’t miss the way he smirks with his signature cigar between his lips as he very slowly drags his eyes on your body.

“And when was I gonna find out my favorite college kid was home?” Logan asks gruffly, plucking the cigar from his lips with an outlet of smoke. His voice damn near sends shivers down your spine everytime you hear it.

You just opt for shrugging and giving him a casual smile. “Find out when you find out, I guess,” you say and of course, he lets out that little chuckle and snort that you love so much.

Logan puts his calloused, large hand out for you to greet him correctly only for him to grab your hand and pull you into him. You can’t help the small, very unmanly yelp that leaves you when he grabs you so suddenly. The smell of him hitting you so quick it damn near makes your mind spin. Cigars and ash and wood and leather and just him. Gosh, it almost drives you so crazy you barely notice the light headlock he put you in.

When you do finally notice, it definitely does not help the flare of heat in the pit of your stomach. You try to brush it off, tugging at his incredibly strong and veiny biceps with a small grin to pry him off of you. Finally, he releases you and you can’t help but take in a relieved breath.

“Still as much of a little shit as ever, kid,” Logan taunts, placing his cigar back between his lips. Lips that you wanted to feel on yours so bad. “You sure you ain’t getting smaller with each year?”

You roll your eyes for the second time that night. He knew you weren’t getting smaller. It just seemed like he was getting bigger even at his grown age. And damn, is he big. 6 feet 2 inches and 205 pounds of pure muscle. “Yeah, I’m sure, Logan,” you end up mumbling in response as you stuff your hands in your pockets.

Logan just chuckles again. “Yeah, okay,” he responds sarcastically. With another puff of smoke, he looks to your father then your bike. “So, what’s the problem, Bub?” He inquires.

You trail your father as he walks Logan over to your motorcycle. The same model he recommended years ago. You barely listen as your father explains the situation to his best friend, your eyes stuck to the man in the red flannel.

“Looks like you just need an oil change, kid. And your fuel filters clogged,” Logan says in a small grunt as he stands from his kneeling position next to your bike.

“Damn, squirt, you can’t tell when you need an oil change?” Your dad questions, pinching the bridge of his nose. You frown slightly and your brows furrow.

“I just didn’t notice, okay?” You grumble in reply.

Your father sighs before looking back at Logan. “Could ya fix it, Howlett?” Your father questions, folding his arms over his chest.

“Oh yeah, could change the oil if the kid wants. The fuel filter, on the other hand, you’re gonna have to replace the part. I’m assuming you don’t just got one layin’ around here,” Logan explains and he dusts his palms off.

“Perfect. Time for the kid to learn to do something for himself,” your father says with a grin of mock-approval. Oh, how you wish your mother was here instead. Logan just lets out a small chuckle that seems just a little bit forced. “Well, I gotta head off to work. Help Logan out, will ya? Get him whatever he needs or asks for.” Your father sighs to you.

He’s going to leave? The two of you? Alone? Does he actually want you to pass away? “Yeah, dad, I got it,” you say to cover up the way your heart almost immediately started racing. Then it was only minutes later before you were watching your father pull out of your driveway and zip down the street, leaving just you and Logan.

Logan turns to you and damn you could almost feel the way he looked at you. You nervously pull your eyes away from the street and to Logan who offers you his usual smirk when you look at him. “Get me your old man’s box, will ya?” He requests.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmur before turning and walking back towards the house to get your dad’s toolbox. And are you being paranoid or is he definitely watching you walk away?

You eventually come back with your dad’s toolbox in hand. Logan turns to you when he hears your footsteps despite them being damn near silent. He’s always so astute and aware. It scares you and somehow turns you on at the same time.

“Atta boy,” Logan says as he takes the box from you and holds it like it weighs nothing more than a bottle of water. “Thanks, kid.”

Atta boy. Gosh, what would you give to hear him say that again. “Yeah, no problem,” you respond. You can’t help but watch him for a few minutes before turning and walking back towards the house. Your father would definitely force you to stay and watch Logan so you could “actually do something right.” But thankfully and also unfortunately, he isn’t there and Logan could care less.

And for the next 45 minutes, you spend your time inside trying to distract yourself from the man outside. The man you were home alone with. You leave the door ajar just in case he needs anything which of course he doesn’t. He’s just that good, right?

You lean against your kitchen counter, feeding your cat, James, a blonde cat who is somehow more accident prone than you are, blueberries. Your mind is practically running on autopilot out of boredom. But you’re acutely aware of the sound of the front door opening and shutting. As well as the heavy footsteps coming towards the kitchen.

Logan turns the corner, his flannel gone, leaving him in just a tanktop and jeans. A tanktop that practically put all of him on display. The muscles and veins in his arms, the firmness of his chest. Specifically that vein on his right biceps that runs all the way down to his forearm.

There’s a few oil marks staining his skin, on his neck and arms and chest. A little on his cheek. How the hell did he get that dirty? Hell, not like you’d know. You hardly touch the inside of that motorcycle, willingly.

His dog tags hanging perfectly in between his pecs. How you would love to trade places with those things right now. “S’all done, Bub,” Logan tells you as he steps further into the kitchen.

“Right, yeah, thanks,” you say, reluctantly stopping your ogling to grab him a water from the fridge. Logan flicks his hands as he finishes washing them and takes the water from you. He leans against the counter across from you.

“How’s college treatin’ ya?” He inquires, watching as you feed James another piece of fruit.

“It’s okay, nothing special. I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice school but it’s not like it’s Ivy League or anything,” you answer in a small shrug as you pop a blueberry into your own mouth. Logan can’t help but watch your lips and throat as you do so. His eyes shamelessly trained on you.

“Well atleast you got somethin’ going for ya,” Logan murmurs, finally looking away as he folds his arms over his chest. “Got a boyfriend waiting there too?” He asks. You give him a look. He chuckles. “Or a girlfriend.” Logan adds.

You just roll your eyes which contrasts the smile on your face. “Answers no to both,” you answer, watching James pluck the blueberry from your fingers. And Logan feels a little too happy to see that little smile on your face again.

“Really?” Logan replies, raising a brow in response. “Those little college kids to stupid to see what’s in front of em’ or something?”

You look over to him and see his little eyebrow raise, a quiet snort leaving you. “I don’t know. I just don’t talk to people like that. Hard to be seen when you’re acting invisible, y’know?” You say nonchalantly.

“Gotta put yourself out there one day, Bub,” Logan sighs. “Can’t keep comin’ back to this place and just hoping for it.” You watch him as he speaks and you can’t help the way your eyes repeatedly drop down to the soot on his muscles. You gotta get those stains off before you go nuts.

“It’s more of a choice than anything,” you tell him as you turn and grab a clean rag from one of the lower cabinets. Logan’s sharp eyes follow you as you move around the kitchen. “People there just don’t really “impress” me.” You add as you wet the rag with warm water.

“Oh, boys there ain’t good enough for you, huh?” Logan questions teasingly, that grin returning to his face. You step in front of him and hold out the damp rag to him. Logan silently gestures to his skin in response.

You swallow and suddenly, your heart is beating a million beats a minute. Your eyes fall from his to his chest and neck as you slowly reach the rag to his skin. “Nah,” you finally answer lowly as you begin to gently scrub at his skin. “All the way in university and still ain’t mature enough.” You mutter, watching the oil stains fade away under the rag.

Logan’s eyes are low as he looks down at you, his eyes trained on your face and lips as you speak and wipe him down. “Oh right, not mature enough f’ya,” Logan murmurs. “Need an older guy to take care of you… don’t ya?”

Your hand pauses on his chest and your eyes move back up to his. A swirl of desire and need mixing in his dark eyes. His gaze alone almost makes you shutter. “Yeah… think I do,” I say in a slightly hoarse whisper.

Not knowing what else to do, you let out a barely there breath and raise the rag, going to swipe at some of the stains on his cheeks. Your heart almost stops in your chest when he grabs your wrist instead. His other hand comes up to grab your jaw, forcing you to keep your eyes on him.

“And what would your old man think about that, huh?” Logan questions lowly, his breath fanning your lips. You part your lips to answer but your words get caught in Logan’s rough lips. Your whole body tenses up for a moment before immediately melting into him.

You let him hold you, you let him push you back into the other counter behind you. You let him slip his tongue into your mouth, the taste of his earlier cigar still lingering. But it only serves to make you weaker. You groan into his mouth as his large hand suddenly slips from your wrist to your crotch, squeezing you through your sweatpants.

“School got you all pent up, yeah?” Logan asks in a huff of a breath as he just barely pulls away from your lips. Once again, he steals your lips before you can answer. Palming you through your sweatpants while his tongue explores every inch of your mouth.

He’s not wrong. It’s been just you and your hand for months now. And somehow Logan just barely touching you through your sweats is better than any night of you fucking your fist.

You can’t help but whine into his mouth when he pulls away, his hand running over your hips and waist instead. But the feeling of him pressing himself against you in his jeans quickly silences your whines. His half-erect cock grinding against your as he rolls his hips. Logan pulls back in a low groan, a thin shiny string of saliva connecting your kiss-swollen lips.

“Been thinking ‘bout you since winter, Bub. Y’know that? Pretty ass been on my mind for fucking months,” Logan says to you in a heavy breath as he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip. You just look up at him, still in slight shock at it all but your mind falling prey to the pleasure and want.

“What? You wanna do something about that?” You question quietly, your voice not matching your smug and suggestive words.

Logan smirks down at you a bit. “Damn right,” he answers, his hand on your chin shifting to your hair as he grabs a fistful of it and tilts your head to the side. His hips rolling against your again as he sinks his teeth into neck. His name falling from your lips in a whimper.

Your hand subconsciously falls to his belt, weakly trying to still his hips against yours which of course doesn’t work. Logan pulls his teeth from your neck while simultaneously guiding your hand down from his belt to the growing bulge in his jeans.

“Feel that, pretty boy? Feel what you’re doing t’me?” Logan mutters against your bruising skin. And you do feel him. A lot of him. It made you lose your breath further while shooting sparks of further arousal to your gut. “Wanna help me out, Bub? Little favor for changin’ your oil?” He requests as he sucks at your flesh, hungrily and greedily.

You move almost immediately to your knees. Breath shaking as he backs up just a bit to look down at you. A devilish grin covering his face. “Well, aren’t you just an obedient little thing,” he comments as one of his hands finds his belt, the other still in your hair.

Your heart pounding in your ears as you watch his belt unbuckle, as he unbuttons his jeans and zips them down. Your mouth damn-near watering as he tugs down his pants and boxers just enough for his dick to spring free. And oh, your jaw is going to be aching for hours.

“Look at you, all cock-thirsty. Nobody been givin’ you any attention, huh?” Logan says as he pumps himself a few times, gently guiding your head to his already leaking tip. He doesn’t have to ask before you part your lips. Maybe it was a little pathetic how quickly you dropped for him. But you couldn’t care less at the moment.

You let him sit himself on your tongue and he just basks in the view. A bit of his pre dripping onto the pink muscle. That sight alone pushed him further, pushing his hips forward until he was almost buried in your throat to the hilt. “Damn, pretty boy, you done this before or something?” Logan groans before he’s moving.

His hand in your hair keeping your head still as he begins fucking your throat. You try to keep the tears from glossing up in your eyes as he hits the back of your throat but you can’t. He doesn’t mind.

“Fuck, how has nobody claimed this perfect throat yet? Taking me so fucking well,” Logan grunts, staring right down into your glossy eyes. You let out a choked whimper around him in reply, the vibrations of the sound going straight to Logan’s cock, making his eyes fall shut as he sucks in a sharp breath. “Right, can’t answer with your mouth full of dick, can you?”

Another muffled whimper which results in him tugging on your hair. “Guess your old man was wrong, huh?” Logan pants over the sound of his balls lewdly hitting your chin, a mix of his pre and your own drool slicking the skin. “You did learn to do somethin’ useful. Damn good cock-sucker.”

Your hands hold onto his thighs as he repeatedly stuffs your face to the hilt, his fat tip kissing the back of your throat. Your nails dig into his skin through his jeans only for his eyes to roll in response. A hoarse and gruff “oh fuck” slipping through his teeth. “Been doing this for those college boys? That how you brought your little grade back up?” Logan questions roughly as he looks down to you.

Such a pretty sight you are. Eyes watering, lashes glistening, mouth full, and your lips a wet mess of your fluids.

“Mmm,” your denial doesn’t leave as words, just muffled choked sounds. A small smirk grows on Logan’s face.

“No? Ain’t that a shocker. You’d— shit— you’d make some good fucking money. Sucking cock for cash, clearly doesn't take much to get you to anyways,” Logan says, almost taunting you with his words. Taunting how fast you got on your knees for him.

You can only respond by pressing your tongue flaccid against his cock, feeling his veins pulse over the muscle. Only for him to tug on your hair when you swirl your tongue over his tip. “Fine by me,” Logan says, his voice breaking into a breathy moan. “Pretty little throat is all mine.”

You feel your own hard-on twitch in your pants at that. The idea of being all his. Even if it’s just for the summers and winters. Logan doesn’t miss the way you take him in more greedily, the way you keep letting him glide across your tongue, the way your breathing just barely steadies when you finally find a rhythm.

“Yeah? You like that idea, Bub? Being all mine?” Logan says strained, the snap of his hips growing sloppy and stuttering. All you can do is let out a muffled groan around him, staring up at him with your big eyes as the tears finally slip over. They only worsen their streams as Logan pushes your head down, giving you hardly any room to breathe as his cock twitches and he cums down your throat.

He doesn’t let you go until you’re digging your nails into his thighs again and he finally lets go of your hair. You pull away and practically gasp for the breath you lost. Coughing and heaving and sniffling as dribbles of his release rolling down your chin, followed by your tears.

“You okay down there, Bub? Too much?” Logan asks as he chases his own breath.

“No, no, i—i'm okay,” you manage to get out as you wipe at the tears and your slick chin. Logan’s low eyes drop to the tent in your sweatpants between your legs. His eyes then pull back up to yours.

“What time does your old man get off?”

[munsonsmixtapes]

Do Me a Favor?

Find part two here!

Eddie x fem!shy!bestie!reader

Summary: you buy some weed from your best friend Eddie and after shotgunning from him, you both find yourselves wanting more

word count: 6k

cw: MDNI 18+, smut, oral (f receiving)

The cold air nipped at your skin as you knocked on the trailer door. You tightened your cardigan around you as waited for someone to answer, wondering what the hell you had been doing there. You didn’t smoke weed. You didn’t buy it either, but maybe you just wanted to see the cute metalhead who was supposedly the best dealer in town, even though he was one of your closest friends and let you come over whenever you wanted.

You had been friends with Eddie Munson since that one time he helped you pick the books that you had dropped when someone had bumped into you in the hallway in the tenth grade. He had grabbed your copy of Lord of the Rings and the two of you yapped about it all the way to the cafeteria where he let you sit with his group.

After letting you sit with him every day, he eventually asked you to join Hellfire Club and you happily agreed. Not long after, the two of you found yourselves hanging out outside of the club, occasionally getting dinner or watching a movie at your house.

Over time, you started to develop romantic feelings because how could you not have? Eddie was just so sweet and caring and he looked out for you like no one else did. And maybe it was silly to crush on your best friend, but you couldn’t help it. Aside from his charming personality, he also happened to be very easy on the eyes.

The door opened, pulling you out of your thoughts and there Eddie was on the other side, looking like something out of your dreams in his cropped band t-shirt and sweatpants that he had rolled down a few times, giving you a great view of the patch of hair that was right under his belly button.

“Y/n?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He hadn’t been expecting you, but couldn’t help but feel intrigued to know why you were there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you nodded at him, not quite able to look him in the eye. You had hyped yourself up on the way there, but now that he was actually standing in front of you, you were feeling shy.

“What are you doing here?” He scratched the back of his head, causing his shirt to ride up even more and your mind suddenly went blank. “Thought you had to work.”

“I just got off and I um-I was wondering if I could buy some weed from you.” Eddie laughed at that. He always saw you as an innocent little thing who did everything she was supposed to. A goody-two-shoes that never broke the rules.

“Well,” he let out a chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day.” Though, he kind of liked the idea of selling weed to you. Not only was it a funny thought, imagining you actually smoking the stuff, but it seemed like you were on edge every time he saw you and he thought you could use something to calm you down.

“We’re not in high school anymore. I’ve changed.” There was a little truth to your statement, but not much. The only thing that had changed about you since high school was that maybe you had a little more confidence and that you had finally gotten your braces off. Other than that, you were pretty much the same.

“So you have,” he nodded. “Well, why don’t you come inside and I’ll show you what I’ve got?” He held the door open for you as you stepped inside, letting it slam behind you. You looked around the place, loving how cozy it felt, especially since you were no longer in the cold weather. You rubbed your hands up and down your arms as you stepped further inside, trying to bring some more warmth to your body. You should have known that it was going to be a bad idea riding your bike across town without a jacket, but the damage was already done.

“The stuff’s in my room if you want to follow me.” Eddie couldn’t help but notice how quiet you were, but he had to admit that he thought it was cute. He knew that that was just who you were, but he couldn’t help but feel like he was making you feel nervous. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into taking the weed if you really didn’t want it. He didn’t know why he cared so much, it was just a normal sale.

Except it wasn’t. You were his best friend and had no experience with drugs whatsoever. He wanted to know why you had a sudden interest, but didn’t feel like it was his business to ask, no matter how close the two of you were.

Eddie had always thought you were pretty, but also thought that you were out of his league. He was the town freak and you were the shy girl who always had her nose in a book. He didn’t think that the two of you were exactly a great match. He didn’t want anyone starting rumors about you too, so he let you slip through his fingers. He decided that he was already risking enough by being friends with you.

But now there you were, standing in the doorway of his room, somehow having gotten prettier since he had seen you a few days ago. You were avoiding his eye contact, staring at the desk that was behind him. You were eyeing the stack of books that were sitting on top of it, wondering what they were, noticing that they were different than the ones that had been there before.

You slowly stepped further into the room, making a beeline for the stack, noticing that they were all new books. You slowly looked at all the covers, most of them being ones you had never heard of, but you were interested in every single one as soon as you read the back. Your face lit up at the book that was on the very bottom. It was your current favorite fantasy novel that you had read more times than you had cared to admit, but you had lost your copy and hadn’t been able to get a new one. You opened the book and let out a gasp at the little signature on the first page, wondering if he had bought it like that or if there was a signing that you didn’t know about.

Eddie watched you, still finding the way that you mumbled to words that were printed on the books to yourself adorable. For a second, he had completely forgotten why you were there. For a second, he had been convinced that you were there to hang out with him like usual.

“I can’t believe you have a signed copy of this.” You turned to face him, showing him the signature. He just let out a chuckle at that, finding you even more adorable. He didn’t think he had ever seen you so animated in the years that he had known you. “How did I not know this?”

“Oh, yeah, I got it a couple weeks ago,” he shrugged. “I honestly forgot that I had it.” The thing had been sitting on his desk since after the signing and he really had forgotten about it, his obsession with it being completely abandoned for another. “You can…keep it if you want.” Your eyes lit up at his suggestion but you quickly slumped your shoulders.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t take it from you.” You set the book back on the desk, knowing that you would have felt bad taking something like that from him. Even though it looked like it hadn’t been touched in a while, you could tell that it meant something to him.

“No,” he shook his head, moving towards you. He took the book and shoved it into your hands, his touching yours as he did so. “Take it, l/n. Please. It’s just been collecting dust here and a thing like that deserves to go to a good home.”

“Are you sure?” His eyes bored into yours to show you how serious he was and you couldn’t help but stare into them. They were hypnotizing, so brown and pretty. You had always been a sucker for brown eyes, especially Eddie’s. You knew that you’d do anything he asked just by looking into them, and you were sure that if he knew that fact, he would have gotten you into trouble.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” His hands were still on yours and you were so aware of his touch, loving how soft but rough his skin was. You could feel the cold metal that was his rings against your fingers that was mixed with the warmness of his hands. You just wanted to take them into your own, interlacing your fingers with his.

Eddie took the book from your hands and removed one of the straps of your tote bag from your shoulder and let the book fall inside before putting the strap right back. A smirk kicked up at the corner of his lips and you stared at them, thinking about how kissable they looked. They were so pink and plump and you just wanted to know what they felt like slotted between yours.

“Just so you don’t think about leaving it here,” he winked then turned on his heel to head to his bedside table. He pulled out a tin lunchbox from the bottom shelf and set it on the bed before opening it. He rifled through it, pulling out multiple plastic bags, trying to remember if he even had anything for a beginner. Most of the stuff he had was for people with a much higher tolerance and he didn’t want to start you on something you couldn’t handle.

Eddie found just what he was looking for at the bottom of the lunchbox and held it up to the light just to make sure, then nodded. He then closed the lunchbox and put it back where he found it and sat down on the edge of his bed, patting the spot next to him. You hesitantly sat down next to him, so close to the other end that if you sat any farther away from him, you’d fall to the floor.

Your heart was racing in your chest. You weren’t even going to smoke the stuff, you just wanted to be able to say that you bought some. Once you got home, you had every intention of throwing it into a drawer, never to be touched again. You just were afraid of what it would do to you so you definitely weren’t going to smoke it alone. That was just too scary. Maybe if you had more confidence, you could have asked him to smoke it with you.

“How much?” You asked, reaching for the money you had in your pocket and Eddie just shook his head.

“No need, l/n,” he rested his hand on top of yours to stop you. “First one’s always free,” he winked and your cheeks flushed.

“Could you do me a favor?” You asked, not even thinking about the words that were coming out of your mouth. Eddie titled his head to the side, wondering what you could have possibly wanted him to do for you.

“Anything,” he nodded quickly, ready to do whatever you asked, no matter how weird or ridiculous. “You know that.”

“Would you…want to smoke with me?” That was the last thing he was expecting to ask. He didn’t think that you ever want to get high with him.

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole thing. He hoped you couldn’t hear how hard his heart was beating his chest as he suddenly felt nervous about the whole thing. “You really want to?” He just wanted to be sure before he started anything.

“Please.” The words came out more desperate than you had intended, but you didn’t even care. You were just happy that he said the words you had been afraid to. Now you didn’t have to worry. He'd be right there to help you if something went wrong and you were sure that he wouldn’t judge if you did something that wasn’t right.

“Alright, well, I’m just gonna roll this up, okay?” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at his desk as he held up the baggie with his other hand. You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as Eddie gave you a reassuring smile, standing from his bed.

You just nodded in response and he pulled his chair out, sitting at his desk, getting to work. You stayed on the bed, not wanting to get into his space, just letting him do whatever he needed to. You sat patiently, trying not to think too much about what you were doing or you were going to back out. You only got one chance to smoke with your crush and you were going to take it.

Once Eddie had the joint all rolled up, he turned in his chair to face you then made his way back to the bed, sitting down on it hesitantly. Your comfort was his top priority and he was fully prepared to stop everything if you didn’t want to continue.He turned to face you, giving you his full attention. He had never smoked with a first-timer, but he still knew exactly what to do. He wanted to give you options, letting you have full control of the situation.

“So, we can either take turns or we can shotgun, which is where I inhale the smoke and blow it into your mouth. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He was being so sweet and gentle and it was getting really difficult for you to not fall for him even harder. You weighed your options and decided that shotgunning was probably the best idea. That way, there was less of a chance that you’d choke and maybe you just wanted to be close to Eddie.

“Can we…shotgun?” You words came out unsure and Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed, wanting to make sure that was actually what you wanted. You nodded enthusiastically, scooting closer to him again. “That’s what I want to do.”

“Then let’s do it.” Eddie turned to grab his lighter from his bedside table and smiled to himself since he had secretly wanted you to pick shotgun. He wanted to be able to touch you, to feel your lips on his, the whole idea making him a little hard. Once he had the lighter, he put the joint between his fingers before holding the lighter out to you. “Wanna do the honors, cutie?”

“Sure,” you nodded and took the lighter from him. You sparked the lighter up and cupped your hand around the joint like you had seen in movies and let it catch the flame before pulling away. You kept hold of the lighter as Eddie beckoned you forward with his free hand.

“C’mere,” he said and you obeyed, moving so you were sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He mimicked your actions and you both got so close that your legs were touching. “Make sure the smoke is in your mouth before inhaling, okay? Don’t want you choking.” You just nodded and Eddie took a drag and held the smoke in his mouth as you leaned forward even more. Your lips parted and Eddie reached up to your face slowly, giving you a look as if asking for permission.

“Do what you need to do,” you told him and his fingers took hold of your chin. His thumb reached up to your bottom lip and he pulled it down as if asking you to open your mouth wider. After it was wide enough, his hand moved to your cheek, pulling your face to his. He gingerly opened up, pressing his lips to your before pushing the smoke into your mouth. You did as he instructed and waited until all of the smoke was in your mouth before you took a deep breath.

Eddie leaned away so you could exhale, gauging your reaction to make sure that you were okay. Just from your first hit, you had been doing a lot better than other first-timers he had seen. Sure, you had only done well because he had told you what to do, but he still thought that you were a natural.

“I don’t feel anything.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you still felt very sober and Eddie just laughed in response.

“You’re not going to feel anything right away, hon.” His hand moved to your shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Do you want another hit?”

“Yes,” you nodded and Eddie took another puff and held the joint away from the both of you as he grabbed hold of your waist, pressing his open mouth to yours once again. He blew the smoke into your mouth and you inhaled before you were supposed to, pulling away to cough into your arm. You had been so focused on the way Eddie’s lips felt against yours that you had completely forgotten what you were supposed to do.

“You okay?” He asked, his hand moving to your back, giving it a sympathetic rub. You just held your thumb up as an indication as you continued to cough. “C’mon, let’s go get some water.”

He stubbed the joint out onto his desk then took you by the hand, pulling you from the bed. You continued to cough all the way to the kitchen and couldn’t believe that you had ruined the good time you were having because you had gotten distracted.

Eddie quickly grabbed a glass from one of the cabinets and filled it up with water from the tap before handing it to you. You quickly gulped down as much of the beverage as you could and let out a sigh of relief as you set the empty glass down on the counter.

“You okay? You good?” He asked, the words rushing out of his mouth. He stood in front of you, his hands resting on your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. You leaned into him, your forehead pressing against his chin.

Eddie didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort you and why it had become second nature to him when he was never good at or liked it, he didn’t know. Anytime he was around first-timers who inhaled improperly, someone else always stepped in to help while he watched from the sidelines. But now, there he was, fully prepared to give you whatever you needed.

“I’m good,” you assured him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “Can you just…hold me for a second?”

“I can hold you for all the seconds, honey.” You weren’t sure where the little nickname came from, but you were eating it up, wanting him to say it anytime he referred to you.

You pulled back to look at him and your eyes immediately shifted to his lips. You watched him wet them with his tongue, the wet sheen making them look even more inviting. It was like he was doing it on purpose, trying to torture you by dangling it in your face, knowing that you wouldn’t do anything about it.

Before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to his in a lingering peck before quickly pulling away. An embarrassed flush made its way upon your face and you covered your lips with the pads of your fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You turned to leave and Eddie didn’t let you get far. He grabbed hold of your wrist and turned you around to face him. He took no time to cradle your face in your hands and capture your top lip between his two. Your hands found his waist and you pulled him to you so he was flush with your body. The kiss was slow and sweet, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. It was everything you had ever hoped, everything you could have ever imagined.

“Don’t ever apologize for that,” he insisted against your lips. “You have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” That made you stop in your tracks. You quickly pulled away to look at him, your eyes widening.

“How long?” You were desperate to know exactly how long he had felt that way about you so you could see how much your crushes had overlapped each other.

“Since high school. Almost kissed you that night when I drove you home from Hellfire and I’ve been kicking myself ever since because I didn’t.”

You had remembered that night so vividly. You had ridden your bike, but Eddie had insisted on giving you a ride home. The two of you had talked the entire time about everything and nothing, occasionally giggling at little jokes that you had shared with each other. Even after Eddie had pulled into your driveway, you still sat there, neither of you wanting you to leave. You had noticed him leaning towards you, but you didn’t want to make any assumptions, so you just said your goodbyes and you just felt embarrassed for thinking that he was going to kiss you when it had been clear that he hadn’t.

All that time, you could have sworn that he was going to kiss you and you had been right. You actually hadn’t been delusional for once. For once, the guy that you had feelings for actually reciprocated them and you couldn’t have been more elated.

“Well, now you can make up for lost time.” Your hands rested against his back.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Eddie pulled you back in for another kiss, this one more rough and messy, the two of you so desperate for the other, taking exactly what you wanted from each other.

Eddie’s hands moved to your cardigan and he undid the first button so slowly, giving you a chance to back out if you wanted to. Once he got the okay to continue, he undid the rest and pushed it off of your shoulders. You removed it from your arms and let it fall to the floor.

You let your hands trail up his back and you pulled onto the bottom of his shirt before pulling it over his head. Once it was removed, he threw it to the side, grabbing hold of your waist again. His hands slipped to the strip of skin between the top of your jeans and the bottom of your tank top that had ridden up as he backed you up to the counter, your back hitting it.

He helped you get up on top of it and you spread your legs, Eddie stepping between them. His mouth was quickly on yours again as he licked into it, his tongue roaming around it as if he was trying to taste every single bit of it.

You let out a moan as his tongue swirled around yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him as close to you as possible. His hands traveled up your shirt and moved to your bra, his fingers resting on the clasp as if asking to take it off.

“Take it off,” you commanded. “Please.” The word came out like a whine and Eddie was happy to oblige, quickly unhooking the clasping before removing the straps from your arms and sliding the whole thing down and pulling it from your tank top. He tossed it behind him then looked at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitance.

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” He licked his lips, his chest rising and falling from being out of breath from your lips being attached. He would have never forgiven himself if he had done something you weren’t comfortable with. He just wanted to be one hundred percent sure.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life, Eds.” Your hand moved up to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot and I want you to be my first.”

“Your first?” His eyes widened. He honestly had no idea that you were a virgin. “Y/n, are you sure you want it to be me?” Eddie wanted to be sure that it was actually what you wanted. That you were doing it with someone you cared about and he wasn’t sure he deserved to be your first.

“Very sure,” you nodded. “You’re the only one I trust to do it.” He felt his cheeks blush at your words, knowing that they meant that you had thought about having sex with him and his dick was getting harder by the second.

“Y/n, you have no idea how honored I am that you want it to be me, but I just want to be sure that you really want this.” Eddie thought it was the greatest honor of all that he was the one that you wanted to lose your virginity to and considered himself the luckiest man alive because of it.

“I’m sure,” you nodded. “I’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Oh, have you?” He teased and pressed another kiss to your lips. “Wanna move this to the bedroom?”

“I’d want nothing more.” Eddie’s lips slotted between yours once again and his hands moved out from under your shirt and wrapped around your waist, pulling you from the counter. Your ankles locked at his back and he carried you to his room, your lips still in the middle of a messy kiss.

He entered his room and slammed the door behind him with his foot, hurrying the two of you to his bed. He collapsed onto it and you fell on top of him. He then sat up and looked at you with a serious look in his eyes.

“I just want to let you know a few things before we get started,” he said, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Okay,” you nodded, ready to listen to whatever he needed to say.

“First, if I go too far or you don’t like something or even if you don’t want to continue, don’t be afraid to let me know. This is all about you, okay?” You just nodded in response and Eddie licked his lips before he continued.

“And on the opposite end, don’t be afraid to let me know what you do like. If you like something, feel free to make noise, and you don’t have to be embarrassed about being too loud. There’s no such thing.”

“Got it,” you nodded, looking him in the eyes so he knew that you completely understood what he was saying. You were desperate to get on with it already, but felt like you owed it to him to listen to what he was saying since it seemed pretty important.

“Do you want to start or should I?”

“You do it.” You wanted him to take the lead since he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Okay,” he replied, leaning towards you, his face only inches from yours. “Just gonna kiss you for now, okay?”

“Mhm,” you nodded and his lips attached to yours again. You felt a little more confident and you were the one to stick your tongue into his mouth, mimicking what he had done earlier, slowly laying him down onto the bed, removing your shirt as you did so. You then leaned down and pulled him into a kiss, your bare chest against his. Eddie brought his hands up and grabbed hold of your tits, the pads of his thumbs massaging your nipples, just enough to make them hard and you made a noise that he knew that he was going to grow very fond of.

Eddie pulled away from you, his mouth immediately moving to your tit. He moved his tongue back and forth, licking across your nipple and you moaned. The whole thing was so foreign to you but you liked the feeling.

Just as you were getting used to it, he took your nipple between his teeth and gave it a pull, causing your hands to move to his hair, giving it a yank. Eddie took that as an invitation to continue and moved to the other nipple, giving it the same attention. You gave it his hair another yank and let out one more moan, trying your best to not be self conscious about how loud you were.

“That’s it, honey,” he said, licking another stripe along your nipple. “Let it out.” Eddie pressed his lips to the spot between your breasts then flipped you over so that your back was against the mattress. He pressed open mouthed kisses all the way down to your stomach and stopped when he got to the top of your jeans.

“These look great on you,” he complimented. “But I’d think they’d look better on the floor. Can I remove them?”

“Yes, please.” He took no time to unbutton them and pulled down the zipper before pulling them down your legs and tossing them to the side. He pressed a kiss to the spot above your underwear then looked up at you for permission to remove them.

“Take them off, Eds. Please. I need you.” Your words came out so whiny and Eddie felt himself getting even more hard.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded before taking your underwear off. He was about to throw them on the floor, but you stopped him, putting your hands over his.

“You should keep them,” you told him. “To remember this night.”

“Isn't that objectification?” He liked the idea of keeping your underwear, but also kind of felt like he was treating you like an object by doing that.

“Not if I say it isn’t. Put them in your pocket.” Without a second thought, Eddie put the underwear into his back pocket before resting his hand on your knees, pulling you in for a bruising kiss. He then spread your legs open to get a peek at your pussy which was sopping wet.

“Wow,” he said, noticing that there was already a stain from where everything had leaked out onto his bedding. “This might be the wettest pussy I’ve ever seen. Mind if I get a taste?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” Eddie climbed off of the bed as he pulled you to the end of it. He then got onto his knees before throwing your legs over his shoulders. He looked up at you one more time for any signs of hesitance and when he saw how eager you looked, he slowly pushed his head between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt.

You let out a gasp as his nose brushed it and gripped the blanket as he licked a stripe from your slit to your clit. He swirled his tongue around the area and you couldn’t keep your sounds to yourself anymore.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned, your fingers gripping more of the blanket as he worked his magic with his tongue. He grazed the sensitive spot with his teeth and you whimpered which let him know that he could continue. He applied a little more pressure with his teeth, loving the sounds that the action elicited from you.

“So good, Eds. Need more.” You were desperate for whatever he was going to give you, not caring at all what it was, just as long it felt as good as him giving you head.

“Oh, this is just the appetizer, hon.” He dove into your cunt once more, shoving his tongue inside of it, causing you to moan the loudest you ever had.

“Fuck, Eddie, more.” He swirled his tongue around and around and you made the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard in his life, knowing that they’d still ring in his head after the night was over.

After a couple more moans, he removed his face from your pussy and practically threw himself on top of you, pressing his lips to yours in a filthy kiss, his tongue swirling around your mouth.

“See how good you taste, honey?” He asked. “Wanna taste you all the time.”

“And I’ll let you,” you responded. “Whenever you want.”

“I love the sound of that.” He slotted his lips between yours in a dizzying kiss before pulling away. He then reached for his bedside table and pulled the drawer open before taking out a condom, not even bothering to close the drawer back.

“I don’t think I’m ready,” you told him, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew he wouldn’t ever judge you, but still couldn’t help but feel like he was going to be mad at you. He let the condom fall to the floor then moved himself back on top of you, his hands taking yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Are you mad?” You looked up at him, and his face softened instantly. He would have never been mad at you for that. Maybe he was a little disappointed, but he thought he would have been wrong to blame your for something like that.

“Baby, no, of course I’m not mad at you.” He shook his head, giving your hands a squeeze. He couldn’t have been mad at you if he tried.

“Promise?” You needed constant reassurance or your brain would convince you that he was lying.

“I promise, honey,” he nodded. “How about we put on some pajamas and watch a movie? Anything you want.”

“I’d like that,” you nodded. You really had thought you were ready, but the whole thing still scared you. You really enjoyed everything leading up to it, but still found the penetration part to be too much for you at the moment.

Eddie rolled off of you and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants out of his dresser before tossing them to you. You threw them on while he headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed and still felt anxious about him being mad at you. What you had was so good and you were convinced that you had ruined it.

“I’m not mad at you,” he called from the bathroom. He knew you too well sometimes, always somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking. He knew how prone you were to overthinking and was always there to reassure you that your thoughts were in fact not true.

Eddie emerged from the bathroom and threw on a shirt before throwing himself onto the mattress and rolling back on top of you. He pressed another bruising kiss to your lips, his hands reaching for yours again. He then pulled away, a grin breaking out on his face as he looked down at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he repeated, burying his face into your neck, snuggling into it.

“I know,” you replied, just like always, but he was never convinced, even though you really did know that he wasn’t mad at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said one more time, pressing a kiss to your neck before rolling off you.

He reached for the remote to his tv and turned it on before pulling you to his chest. You both watched the screen mindlessly while your arms wrapped around him. One of his arms draped across your waist while the other hand stroked your hair, something he always did to bring you comfort.

You looked up at him as he watched the tv and couldn’t help but feel lucky to have a best friend like him. Someone who was always there for you no matter what. Someone who would never judge you for anything, no matter what he really thought about it. Someone who you were completely and one hundred percent head over heels for. And maybe, just maybe, one of these days you’d get the guts to tell him how you really felt.

[daycourtofficial]

Deceptive Domestication

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 7.7k | Warnings: sexism, misogyny

Summary: The two of you have to pretend to be a married couple for a mission. Can you live with this false reality? Or will your feelings for Azriel eat you alive when it’s over?

Author’s note: started making it, had a breakdown, bon apetit

“Angel, where are you?”

Azriel’s deep voice moves on the wind, finding you at the back of your cottage. You twist the new ring adorning your fourth finger, the skin beneath it showing no tan lines, “I’m back here, just one second!”

Azriel laughs, his voice sweet and full of honey, “the wife’s an avid gardener. When we were first considering moving here, she insisted we check the soil to make sure she would be able to have her prized blackberries.”

You appear from the side of the house, wiping your hands on the apron around your dress. Azriel’s arm reaches around you, clasping you on your shoulder as you get next to him. 

“He’s right, I love my blackberries greatly,” you say, reaching out to shake hands with your new neighbors. They lived in the house closest to yours, a red thatched roof adorning the black building. Delicious smells came from it, and judging by the smoke from the chimney, they were likely preparing dinner when they saw you two.

“We just wanted to come by and meet the two of you, we saw you come in last night and wanted to introduce ourselves. I’m Arben,” the male points to himself, “and this is my wife, Alija.”

You nod to both of them - they looked to be a good bit older than you and Azriel, wrinkles adorning their tanned faces. “Thank you, this used to be my Uncle Sal’s home. Since he passed away recently, he left the home to us and we wanted to leave our home village.”

“I’m so sorry about Sal, sweetheart,” he says, a sympathetic look in his eye, “he was a nice male, talked about you all of the time. Alija has to finish dinner, but we’ll see the two of you around, yeah?”

You press your lips into a firm smile, nodding before pressing into Azriel’s side and turning back to the house. His arm on your back guides you to the door of your new home, his touch a familiar warmth amidst all of the new. Once you cross the threshold, shutting the door behind yourselves, Azriel’s hand falls from your back and he immediately puts distance between you two, walking towards the bedroom he was staying in. His smile drops, the air in the room frigid. Rhys’s words clang through you, a shock to your senses.

Go to this village as a married couple. I’m unsure how long it will take.

You jolted as Azriel slammed the door behind him. Sighing, you move to your own room, taking in the bags left to unpack. You had taken great care to pack enough to last you as the season changes. The two of you were here indefinitely, marooned in a quaint village of about forty-three people.

Move in, become friends with the neighbors, find out what you can.

There was a circle of villages in the western part of the Night Court where females kept disappearing - six had gone missing in the last month. The villagers were not speaking to outsiders, but Rhysand thought a long term mission might allow the spies to get close enough to get some questions answered.

So he decided on you and Azriel.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

It had been strange seeing Azriel play this version of a spy, even if it had only been a day. You were so used to him lurking in the shadows, it felt so strange to watch him play the part of a doting husband, and to do it well. Introducing you to the neighbors and random villagers, a hand kept on your skin at all times - on your lower back, your waist, your shoulders. It was so easy to get swept up in the illusion you two were selling - even you were convinced you were newlyweds, moving for a fresh start.

Until he slammed his door, reminding you it was all fake, a farse for information.

Things between you and Azriel have always been easy. You two were the best of friends, most of your free time being spent with him since joining the Inner Circle two years ago. The two of you spent countless nights sitting together when sleep wouldn’t find you, you two had even developed a code - open bedroom doors at night were a silent invitation for the other to come in, spending most nights in each other’s rooms, wrapped up in sheets that smelled of the two of you.

All of that ended very suddenly a few months ago. Suddenly his door was always closed to you, your own cracked every night. A call to him, begging him to acknowledge you.

You started keeping your door closed a month ago. It didn’t feel right, shutting him out, but clearly you had done something wrong. Your entrance into a room would cause him to leave immediately, changes in his training schedule to avoid you, abruptly turning around when he saw you.

It was all pissing you off.

The rest of the Inner Circle were just as clueless as you were as to what happened to cause Azriel’s sudden distance. Cassian tried to interfere - making plans with both of you for dinner at a restaurant and ditching, trying to force you two to spend time together.

Azriel just left once he caught sight of you.

That was your tipping point. You stopped going to training, you pulled back from family dinners. They were his family first, and you wanted to give him whatever space he needed. Everyone protested, telling you it was his problem, and in Cassian’s words “if he’s going to be a jackass, I don’t want him around anyway.”

Still, you retreated, hardly seeing much of the family you had forged over the past few years. No matter how much it hurts you to do so.

Once you began accepting this new Azriel-less reality, Rhys had called you into his office. The high lord looked almost conflicted, your entire family aware that something weird was happening between you and Azriel. None of them dared to ask Azriel, his darkened mood making it incredibly easy to anger him, and anytime they asked you they were met with a shrug and a soft, “I don’t know.”

All of them had been scratching their heads, desperate for an explanation for the sudden iciness between you two. It had been weeks of this, and everyone missed seeing the two of you exchanging whispers in the corner or watching Azriel’s shadows wind through your hair.

Which was why Rhysand decided to insert himself into the situation. He called you into his office, and after asking you to take a seat, he began asking after your week. Your eyebrows knitted, confused about the formality of it all, when you realized you haven’t actually seen Rhysand in almost a month. 

You had taken up residence in the House of Wind - since you were a scholar it lended easy access to your work, and whenever you wanted to leave, you asked Azriel to ferry you around. You tried to remember the last time you saw anyone in the inner circle that wasn't Cassian or Nesta, and it was when Cassian offered to fly you into town to get lunch with Feyre three weeks ago.

You’re not certain how to tell Rhysand the past few weeks had been filled with silence, whatever happened between you and the shadowsinger led you to avoid Cassian and Nesta, avoid training, avoid anything that wasn’t being buried in your work in the library.

You look into violet eyes, and you check your mental shields because he’s looking at you as if he already knows how sad this whole situation has made you.

You take a deep breath, shrugging. “Time is passing, I suppose.”

Rhys’s face falls a bit at just how dejected you sounded. It wasn’t supposed to be like this - they all knew there was something between you and Azriel, they all saw how you two gravitated towards each other. Neither of you would open up about whatever it was that shifted things so quickly and easily and it was pissing all of them off.

“I need your help with something.”

It was the best plan they could come up with to try to salvage things.

-

You woke up early the next morning, determined to tend to the garden before the sun reached its peak in the sky. You had plans later in the afternoon to meet with a few of the women of the village, but you had to get to working on this garden. There was no time table on this mission, and the two of you only had food stores to last you a few months.

If you were to be stuck in this purgatory that long, you needed new food to replenish whatever you use.

Your story to tell the villagers was that the two of you were quite young from the other end of Illyria. The two of you were extraordinarily lucky that one of the older fae males in this village happened to pass away a few weeks ago, allowing the two of you an easy in. You merely reviewed some family records, and were posing as his beloved niece, here to lead a new life with her husband.

You tended to the garden behind the house - the weeds had grown wildly in the previous owner’s absence. Your ‘uncle's absence, that is.

You spent all morning pulling weeds, making quite an improvement to the garden before you decided to go in and make yourself lunch. You came in, rinsing the dirt from your fingers, the water feeling nice against some of the minor cuts you acquired outside. After drying off, you pulled out a loaf of bread, slicing the bread to prepare some sandwiches. 

You hummed to yourself, trying to fill the silence of the house. It wasn’t large - a quaint two bedroom house with two bathrooms, a nice little kitchen, and a sitting room. You were a bit surprised at how well the interior of the house had been maintained by your ‘uncle’. 

Azriel was headed with the rest of the males to the war camp, spending his day training as a lesser ranked Illyrian. He was glamoured to look enough not like himself to the other Illyrians that they wouldn’t think anything of him. You had also glamoured some of Azriel’s siphons, only allowing one on his chest to remain. He was not happy about it, not wanting to seem so much weaker than he truly was. He wouldn’t listen to any of your points about it, but Rhys eventually convinced him to allow your glamour to cover six of his siphons because “it’s quite obvious who you are”.

Azriel’s refusal to listen to even your opinions on the mission was grating. You wanted to get to know the local females, and Rhys agreed with you, but Azriel kept arguing that ‘it wasn’t safe’.

Stupid Illyrians and their stupid pigheadedness, you suppose. If you’re not supposed to speak with the other females, why were you even here?

You knew this mission would be difficult for Azriel - his hatred for his own people fueling centuries of anger and resentment. You thought being trapped here was an appropriate punishment for how he had iced you out of his life.

You had just finished making your sandwich when there was a knock at the door. You brushed your hands down your dress, glamouring wings back to life behind you, breathing deeply before you answered the door.

An Illyrian woman stood in your doorway, her dark curls slightly hiding her tanned face that was turned down. She was taller and broader than you, but still small for an Illyrian. Her demeanor told you they treated her that way as well. Her wings were tucked in tight behind her and her shoulders shook lightly before you.

Her voice was weak as she told you, “we go every day, bringing lunch to the males, if you wish to accompany us.”

Wish.

You knew the reality of coming here - you knew they would give a few days of grace to settle in, set up your garden, bereave your uncle before they assigned you to a chore rotation. In communities like this one, everyone had to pull their weight.

It was just astonishing how ‘pulling your own weight’ made the females seem two to three times heavier than the males.

You nod your head to the female, closing the door behind you as you meet her outside. You had no idea where the war camp was, knowing it mustn’t be too far from the village. You vaguely remember Azriel and Rhys discussing the three villages that filtered into the camp, how all three were short walks from the villages.

Dirt crunches beneath your boots as you walk alongside the female, her deep brown eyes downcast towards the ground, shoulders hunched to make herself as small as possible as you walk. “What’s your name?” You ask, your voice causing her to flinch. Her eyes were wide as they looked at you, shock at being addressed you presumed. It was astonishing how awfully they must treat her, because her face resembled a wounded dog’s.

“Kaltrina.” Her words are mumbled, and you have to strain your ears a little to hear her. 

“Kaltrina - it’s nice to meet you. Um, are you married?”

Not your usual first question, but around these parts marriage was as good as social standing. Also any unwed women over the age of 24 were considered ‘unwanted’ or ‘untameable’. This village was harsh on women - even by Illyrian standards. The males of this village made Devlon look forward and free-thinking.

“No, not married. I live with my brother, Dardan.”

Her tone didn’t suggest anything about him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it meant. She offers you a smile and a soft nod, “is your husband nice?”

You offer the same soft nod before you hear her say, “he’s quite good looking, too.”

You pause, trying to remember everything Cassian and Rhysand had told you about Illyrians to prepare for this - they told you males were incredibly territorial, treating their wives more like trophies and laborers rather than spouses. A male would take this as a compliment - one mention of a good-looking wife would be something to boast about, mentioning it more than once would be an offense.

But how did the females treat their husbands, how did they speak to each other about them? It was the biggest gap in your knowledge, but you suppose you can explain away any discrepancies on how far away the two of you came from.

“Yes, he’s quite pretty.”

She giggles at your words, and you feel a swell of pride at getting it right. She walks next to you, standing a little straighter for the rest of the walk.

The two of you made it to the war camp, joining the other females to distribute food to the males. The males look at you like you’re not much more than a piece of meat or some dirt on their boots, but your eyes scanned the crowd for Azriel, not finding him the entire time you’re there.

You do get a chance to speak with a few of the females as you all head back to the village, carrying leftover food with you. Most of them seem to welcome you - suggesting what crops grow best in the area, telling you to reach out if you need any help with anything.

The other females head off at the fork in the road, telling you and Kaltrina they would see you the next day. You breathe deeply, looking to Kaltrina once more. She hardly spoke once the two of you had met up with the other females at the war camp, keeping her distance from them the entire time.

“How’s your brother?” You ask, the innocent question causing Kaltrina to flinch. 

“He’s a fine male.”

Her answer feels so dry, so rehearsed. You don’t press the issue, changing topics instead. “How will you spend the rest of the afternoon?”

“Chores.”

You listen to the birds singing around the both of you, their song a beautiful melody across the skies. You eventually pass a house similar to your own, but a bit smaller, the roof not well cared for. Kaltrina gives you a small wave before turning down the path to her house, disappearing behind the door. 

You kept walking towards your own house, but you did see her appear in the window briefly, watching you walk down the road. It made the hairs on your neck stand up, but you quickly looked forward again, making your way back to the house, determined to finish unpacking this afternoon.

-

You had finished unpacking by the time you heard the door open, Azriel traipsing through the house. 

“Hello my loving husb-“

Your sarcastic words die as you turn to see his face, a cut on his lip and a black eye. He shakes his head, trying to tell you it’s nothing, and he starts moving to just head to his room, but you’re not having it.

“We have some bandages in the bathroom.” Your words don’t have a command in them, but he heads towards the bathroom. You pick up a bottle of alcohol, dabbing some on a rag. You motion for him to sit on the edge of the tub, and he goes.

You’re a few inches from his face, the closest you’ve been in months. His scent was so comforting, you just wanted to wrap yourself in it and stay for a while. He stays silent, his face a blank slate you could slap any emotion to. 

His shadows have been having fun whizzing around the house. He had told them they had to stay completely hidden if they were to come to the war camp with him, otherwise they had to stay in the house or go off wherever they wanted. They didn’t like the options, but most of them stayed with him, tucked into his boots, his pants, the hilt of his sword. Now that he was back, they scattered across the house, energetic wisps of darkness moving through the house, through your hair, against your skin.

“What happened?”

He huffed, his fingers dancing on his thighs in irritation. “I’m a new male, they’re just seeing if I can take it.”

You nod, and from the irritation in his voice, you know he’s shutting you back out. You hold the alcohol covered rag up to his lip, cleaning the blood from his face. He had healed a good bit since he received the beating, and you notice his knuckles are bloody. 

Hopefully he put up a good enough fight. 

“I went with some of the women to the war camp to distribute food.”

His eyes snap to yours, his wings rustling behind him. His eyes were dark, a look to them you’ve never seen directed at you. He reaches his hand up to your wrist, his grip tight but not uncomfortable.

“Why the fuck would you do that?”

You’re taken aback by his tone - even if your relationship was tenuous, he never took such an aggressive tone with you. In all your years of friendship, the most strain in his voice you had heard directed at you was when you were free climbing up the cabinets of the kitchen to get to the top shelf for some cookies.

“Because Rhys thinks-”

“I don’t give a damn what Rhys thinks when it comes to you, I said it was a bad idea and to stay away from them.”

“They’re battered females, Azriel! The males treat them like dirt! And their friends and sisters and mothers have gone missing. I can help them, I know I can - that’s why we’re here!”

His hand tensed around you before he pulled his hand away from you. He looks away from you, his harsh breathing echoing through the small bathroom.

“You’ll only get yourself hurt by talking to them.”

He snatched the rag from your hand, pushing past you out the bathroom and into his room, slamming the door on your once again. You want to scream or stomp your feet at how ridiculous he was being.

“I’m not a kid you can boss around, Azriel.”

His silence didn’t make you so certain about that.

-

The next week goes by much like your first full day in the village - you wake up after Azriel’s gone, tend to the house (your ‘uncle’ left it in semi-decent shape, but it did need a few repairs), head with Kaltrina to the war camp to feed the males (where you were even able to meet Kaltrina’s brother and several of the female’s husbands), and spend your afternoon preparing dinner for the two of you.

You’re not on speaking terms with Azriel after his outburst while you cleaned him up - every day he’s returned with some minor cut and scrape, and all you do is point to the alcohol and provide him with fresh rags. You won’t clean him up yourself, you’re too pissed at him for that, but you still urge him to do it himself

You still care, despite it all. 

Despite the ice between you and Azriel, the females of the village began opening up to you, accepting you as one of their own. You join them every day to serve lunches to the males, and several of them even invited you to their homes to help teach you how to cook with the regional vegetables. 

“Your husband’s too skinny,” one said, “I’ll teach you how to cook.”

You weren’t sure if it was a compliment or an insult, but you took it for what it was - an offering. You spent the afternoon with her, learning how to smoke pig ‘the correct way’. She had told you her name was Bora, she and her husband have lived in this village for several centuries, and she has had many, many smoked pigs.

“None compare to my family recipe.”

She was quite intimidating, and you could tell she took shit from no one, not even her husband. You were touched that she would share her family recipe with you so readily, thinking perhaps she took a special interest in you until another female stopped by and, after telling her Bora was teaching you her family recipe, she told you, “it’s how she inaugurates new females to the village’.

You were less touched and your ego deflated a bit, but you were still grateful she would spend so much time with you. The afternoon flew by, time not registering as you helped Bora peel her vegetables while the pork cooked. 

You looked up, noting the dark sky through the window, dropping the zucchini. “Oh no,” you mutter, running out of the house to the road, eyes wide to find Azriel running up the road, blades drawn. His siphon was glowing in the dark, it’s cobalt blue blazing with intensity.

He was frantic, and you could have sworn you saw his shadows frantically zipping around him, moving in and out of houses. His body visibly relaxes as he spots you, rushing towards you. His arms wrap around you, crushing you into an embrace. His breathing is ragged, “I thought- I thought- you-”

His words come out choppy, but he pulls back, his hands on your face. He’s breathing hard, trying to string words together. He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement.

“Is everything alright?”

Bora’s voice startles Az, and one of his shadows whips into a defensive position before you shoo it away. He quickly collects himself, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, pulling you to his chest.

“Sorry, I got worried when I got home and my wife wasn’t there.”

He pats your hair, his hands combing through them softly. “Just need her to be safe, s’all.”

Bora nods, perhaps more understanding than she should be of Azriel’s concern. “Ah, to be newly married again. She was safe,” she turns away before adding, “she’s always safe here with Bora.” 

The older female waddles back inside for a moment before coming back out to the two of you, the tray of pork and vegetables on it. “Here’s dinner tonight - Bora’s family recipe.” She winks at you, and the two of you politely thank her before heading back to your house. You carried the tray, but Azriel kept both of his hands on you the entire walk back.

The walk back is mostly quiet, Azriel’s heartbeat slowing as the adrenaline leaves his body. You swivel your head around, noticing no one out in the village at this hour.

“Why were you being so nice and touchy to me out there and anytime we see the neighbors?” Your words come out barely more than a whisper, but you knew he heard them. “The men in this village hardly view their wives as more than livestock, it might be more suspicious for you to be so nice to me.”

He turned, just enough for you to see the side of his face, to watch his mouth as he said, “I could never do that to you.”

You spent the rest of the walk in silence, spending the entire time dissecting the way he said “you”.

-

Your house with Azriel is still quiet, the two of you living separate lives behind the oak door. Sleeping apart, eating dinner in different rooms. You two only spoke when you were outside of the house. 

A few days after cooking with Bora, you and Kaltrina were headed back to the village from the camps for lunch when she offered to help you make dinner. 

“I want to say thanks, for being my friend.”

Her words make you feel terrible over how strange you had found her. Maybe she was just awkward. You weren’t sure, but you knew you’d be safe inside your own home, so you agreed to let her stay. 

The two of you prepare dinner, Kaltrina seeming a bit nervous as she skitters about your kitchen. You make idle small talk, but the air in the room seems so off you can’t put your finger on it.

“What will your brother be doing for dinner tonight?” 

She looks a bit downcast as she tells you, “he has plans tonight, he’s eating at his friend’s house.”

Her tone tells you not to ask anymore, and you don’t press the issue any further. 

The two of you eat in silence, Kaltrina’s eyes moving around your house, taking in every detail. She excuses herself to the bathroom, and you show her where it is. 

In Kaltrina’s absence, Azriel makes his way through the front door, his shadows beginning to spread throughout the house in contentment. You quickly shake your head at the tiny wisps that come to you, sending them back to Azriel. You point towards the bathroom, jerking your head at the noises from behind the door trying to tell him someone was here.

The water runs, and Azriel quickly moves across the room, his arms circling your waist. Your eyebrows pinch, but you quickly relax them as Kaltrina leaves the bathroom. Her steps halt at seeing Azriel, her eyes wide at his sudden appearance.

“Kaltrina, this is my husband. Valon, this is my friend, Kaltrina.”

He nods to her before squeezing your waist and giving a swift kiss to your temple. Kaltrina’s eyes linger on the display of affection, not breaking contact even moments later. Azriel rubs your back, eyes fond as he looks to you, “I’m going to head to bed, take your time with your friend, but don’t leave me waiting too long.”

Was that a signal? You two slept in separate rooms - what did his words mean? You lean up, kissing his cheek before rubbing at his jaw and nodding. He turns his attention towards Kaltrina, “it was nice meeting you Kaltrina, my wife is quite fond of you. Have a good night.”

Her mouth is slightly ajar, her cheeks a harsh shade of red as she squeaks, “good night.”

Azriel nods at her and he slips into your bedroom, a sight that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You turn back to Kaltrina, her eyes lingering on the door to your bedroom, and you could almost feel the yearning radiating from her. 

“Come on, we should clean up a bit.” The two of you head into the kitchen, cleaning and scraping the dirty dishes from earlier. You two work in silence, the only sounds in the room are the scrubbing of pots.

“Your husband seems quite nice.”

Her voice is full of want and yearning. You stop cleaning pots before you, Kaltrina’s eyes fixed on you until you look. She turns her eyes away, looking back to the pots.

“Yes, he is very kind.”

“He’s unlike any of the males around here.”

This conversation felt a bit dangerous. Azriel said it was fine, that he couldn’t treat you the way any of these males treat their wives - like servants, like cattle, like nothing. But you knew the females of the village would notice how he treated you, if they haven’t already. You start to wonder if they had noticed, discussing the odd outsiders, figuring the two of you out, getting you-

“He’s very good-looking.”

Kaltrina’s voice startles you, and you look to find her not even looking at you, gazing off to some point on the wall. Had she meant to say that out loud? The two of you finish up cleaning, although it is mostly you doing the work, Kaltrina’s gaze is lost somewhere on your kitchen wall. You quickly escort her out, wishing her a good night. You offer to walk her home, but she declines, saying she’ll be fine on her own. 

You close the door behind her, taking a deep breath. Azriel was in your room - your room - the one with the unmade bed, clothes haphazard around the space. You two used to frequent each other’s private chambers, but now you can’t recall the last time he laid in your bed, perused the books on your shelves, or sat in the chair in the corner of your room at the House of Wind.

You push open the door to find him pacing in front of your bed, his shadows lounging lazily on your bed. You nod to him, picking at your fingernails.

“I think it’s Kaltrina. I think she’s the one doing this.”

“Kaltrina?” His voice is full of surprise and misunderstanding. “You think Kaltrina, that little thing is behind all of this?”

“Yes! I just.. Don’t know why.. The way she talks about you…”

“We can’t go off of silly little feelings when convicting someone of a crime, you know.” He stands in front of you, his wings blocking the light from the candles, casting shadows across his face.

“I’m well aware-”

“You have to think - where would she keep them? How could she overpower so many Illyrian women? And besides, why does it matter what she thinks of me?”

Your anger was bubbling to the surface, his condescending tone leading you to yell out, “what the fuck is your problem, Azriel?”

He looks at you, turning away quickly while muttering, “we are not doing this here.” His shadows are ever so slightly trying to push him back towards you, but he ignores their attempts, plowing through them to your kitchen.

“No, I think we are doing this right here, right now. I’ve let too much shit go by and I can’t keep acting like everything’s okay anymore.” You take in a shaky breath. “I’m tired of pretending. Just tell me whatever it was that I did that made you hate me and we can move on!”

“No.”

His curt reply annoys you even more, and you’re directly in front of him poking his chest.

“Just tell me what I did!”

“You didn’t do anything.”

“That’s clearly not the case.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand down his face, but you are unrelenting in your pursuit for the truth.

“We were friends, you used to like spending time with me. I don’t know what happened that made you hate me-”

“I don’t hate you.”

You laugh, “well you could have fooled me. For months everyone’s been asking me what happened between us, and I have no clue! It’s like you woke up one day and decided we couldn’t be friends anymore!”

“That’s not what happened-”

“Oh, it’s not? So you were pretending to be my friend while you secretly hated me before cutting me off one day?”

“I HAD TO.”

His eyes were wide with an almost feral-like look to them. He looked almost more beast than fae.

“I had to. Those fae that were trafficking females and males, they… “ His hand shakes as he curls and uncurls it, his scarred fingers twitching with the motion. “One of my spies found your name in one of their notebooks, reported it to me immediately.”

His ferocity is turned on you, hazel eyes looking into your own, as if he was searching through your soul. “Don’t you get it? They know you, they know who you are.” His voice raised an octave, squeaking, “because of me.”

“So, what? Because someone knew that I was important to you, you cut me off?”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Oh, no, was it that someone pointed out to you that I was important to you and you didn’t like that?” Your voice was raising, getting louder, but you couldn’t care. 

“That’s not-“

“I’m a big girl, Az, I deserve to know everything before making decisions. I don’t deserve my decisions to be taken from me.”

“Will you let me speak?”

His shadows were covering the windows, the doors, the walls. His chest was heaving as he tried to get the words out, tried to make you see.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”

“So instead of explaining this to me, you cut me off like I meant nothing to you? Why couldn’t you just tell me that? Why couldn’t you tell me-”

“You would talk me out of it! Convince me it was in my head. I needed you to be safe, for cauldron’s sake!”

You sniffle, eyes catching on the door. “I have a lot to think about,” is all you say before storming out, closing the door behind you. You walk from the house, your boots sinking into the grass at your feet as you walk aimlessly around the village. Your thoughts whirled and swirled of Azriel’s words, your hands pulling at your hair in frustration.

“Hey, there.”

You whip around, fist raised, to find Dardan looking back at you. You quickly drop your fist - he could still tell the others you showed defiance towards him and you’d be in a lot of trouble. 

“Oh, hey, Dardan, right? I must not have heard you. How are you tonight?”

You try to make your voice sound as pleasant as possible, as feminine as possible. 

“Just taking an afternoon stroll,” he muses, “care to join me?”

You look around, noticing you’re much further from the village than you intended. Even though you were a married female to the rest of the village, it was still disrespectful towards your husband to be seen on the outskirts of town with an unmarried male. 

“Um,” you start turning around, your gut trying to tell you this was wrong, wrong, wrong. “Actually, I should get back to my husband. I need to start working on dinner soon.”

You turned your head just in time for something hard and metal to make contact with it, the last thing in your vision was the ground before complete darkness.

-

Your head was killing you, your neck at an unnatural angle as you opened your eyes. The room was dark, but still too bright for the pounding of your head. You take a deep breath, trying to note your surroundings. 

Your hands were bound behind you, some fabric you should be able to easily pull apart. You were on the ground, some dirt beneath your body as you laid on the cold ground. You began tugging on the fabric, trying to maneuver your hands to slip through the knot.

“Tug all you want, we got a talented witch in these parts.”

Your body goes cold at the voice.

Dardan.

Fuck.

You want to slam your head on something, but there’s nothing. Your breathing speeds up, your mind moving through all your interactions with Dardan.

You thought he was nice. He had been amicable to you at the war camp, you barely even thought of him during this mission. You thought it was Kaltrina. How could you have gotten things so wrong? 

He smiles as he watches your brain try to figure things out. His smugness was a new look for Lee - one that made him look very unattractive. “We knew one of Rhysand’s dogs was bound to show up at some point, just didn’t think they’d bring a pretty bitch like you with ‘em. Color me surprised when my little sister brought you around.”

You snap at his words, “bitches bite.”

He goes by to sharpen whatever knife he was wielding before replying. “We got big plans.”

Dardan wouldn’t say more than that, continuing to sharpen his blade before inspecting it. Once it was to his satisfaction, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you from the ground. You scramble, trying to get your feet on the ground, kicking at the dirt he was dragging you across to gain some footing. His pull on your hair was unrelenting, even as your arms flailed back trying to hit him.

Eventually you’re able to get your feet beneath you, trying to keep up with his steps. He opens the doors to the structure you were kept in, the light of dusk surprising you. There was no way to tell time in that barn.

“It’s almost sunset, girl.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, trying to take a big inhale so you can scream. The sound was piercing - a loud screech coming from you. Dardan just laughed. “Screech all you want, no one’s around for miles.”

Rhys’s words echo in your mind.

Stay close to Azriel.

A warning you had forgotten when you stormed off. Dardan’s tight grip brings you towards a clearing full of other Illyrians from the village you had been staying in and several of the nearby villages. You’re about to call, to beg them for help, when you notice six of the males are each dragging a female in some way towards the center of the clearing. You can’t see over the wings and heads in front of you, but the crowd parts for your eyes to land on a stone altar with ancient languages carved into it.

The crowd gave enough space for the six Illyrians to stand in a circle around the altar, each one cradling a woman by their neck with a blade pressed to it. You start fighting back against Dardan, trying to scratch him, hit him, but he throws you towards the altar where two winged males stand, catching you in their arms easily. You throw out your hand, making contact with one of their jaws, a soft “bitch” hissed at you. 

You throw your bound hands into the other one’s gut, but the first one grabs your elbow, twisting harshly. You struggle in the hold, winding your head back to headbutt him, but the other one grabs your head, holding it in place. You start kicking your legs out, hoping for any kind of contact, but a male from the crowd comes up and catches your ankles. 

The three males hold onto you, moving you on top of the altar. Your movements do nothing to stop them as they clamp down your feet, moving towards your hands, shackling them to the altar as well. Your pleas to be let go fell on deaf ears.

You turn your head to the left, two of the females coming into your view. Their wings twitched as their captors held them, not much fight in them. You yell to them, begging for them to fight back against the males at their backs. Tears stream down the side of your face, leaking into your ears as you watch their complacency, what they’ve been conditioned for. 

Nausea rolled in your stomach at the idea of how long they’ve been aware of this fate. These girls have been missing for weeks and months of their lives, kept Mother knows where to beat them into compliance. 

They stood at attention, knives to their throats, unmoving. 

Your eyes water seeing Kaltrina amongst them, her eyes downcast.

It was sickening.

Dardan comes from the crowd, looking down at you over the crook of his nose. He raises a knife to your throat, your skin nicking on the blade as your breathing quickened. 

“Any last words?”

You look up at Dardan, mustering every ounce of defiance onto your face as you pull back, spitting into his smug face. His face falls for a moment before wiping the saliva off. Dardan looks towards the sky, “just a moment until sundown. If only your pretty little shadowsinger could be here now, to watch you become the ultimate sacrifice.”

Breathing gets harder as the seconds tick by, knowing the sun will set at any second. You felt a cool breeze blow over you. 

Not a breeze.

A shadow.

“Get your fucking hands off of my mate.”

Your heart stops in your chest, something sparking deep within you at Azriel’s growl of warning in a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Dardan’s knife is still pressed to your neck, but you’re able to move your eyes enough to see wisps of shadow pulling the knives away from the necks of the other females in the circle. 

You tilt your head back, barely able to make out Azriel standing behind Dardan, his shadows angrily darting all around him. Several more of them make their way to you, almost cloaking you in the scent of their master.

Dardan’s arrogance doesn’t balk at the sight of Azriel, his grip on the knife tightening. 

“You can drop the ‘mate’ act, freak,” Dardan spat out, his words causing the shadows to whirl in agitation. “We need her-”

In a flash the shadows coating you slithered up your torso, slithering around the wrist that held the blade. They pulled the wrist away, the knife narrowly avoiding slicing your throat. At the same time, Azriel moved for Dardan, his fist connecting with Dardan’s jaw causing a crack across the clearing. Dardan hit the ground, but Azriel dove after him, landing punch after punch.

In the chaos of the fight breaking out, the crowd was in hysterics, all of the males attempting to fly or flee, pools of shadows surfaced at their feet, tripping them up, their bodies slowly disappearing into the darkness. Some of them tried to crawl from the darkness, but to no avail. The crowd quickly went from about 30 males to just the six females left, all unharmed, huddling together for some form of protection.

Azriel was choking Dardan out, scarred fingers forcing the breath from Dardan’s lungs. “I will enjoy taking my time with you.” Azriel’s words hung in the air as Dardan slowly slipped into the shadows underneath him, but Azriel remained on the grass. He quickly got to this feet, most of his shadows gone, likely to keep the Illyrian prisoners in check.

He stumbles over to you, quickly undoing your binds before wrapping you in his arms, pulling you from the altar.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” are all he says, his words repeating as you feel tears fall onto your shirt. You gripped him just as tightly, finding it easier to breathe in his presence for the first time in ages. 

“I can’t live in fear anymore.”

He lunged for you, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s rushed, full of fear and trepidation. 

But by the cauldron was it warm and full of life. 

He pulled back, wiping spit from his mouth, his fingers covered in blood pushing the hair out of your face. “When I heard that your name was on one of those books, the bond snapped for me. I flew in a rage, killing all those traffickers. But I knew there were more like them out there.”

His eyes were full of regret, “I should have told you, but I thought you’d be safer not knowing. Then I figured this mission was my last time to actually have you, to play pretend.”

You laugh at the ridiculousness of it, pulling him in closer to you. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling that deep smell of cedar that you adored more than anything. It felt like coming home.

“I’m still pissed at you for not telling me.”

He chuckles, a deep, warm sound you haven’t truly heard in ages, “can I make it up to you? I won’t keep secrets from you ever again.”

He holds your face in his hands, his own eyes wet with tears. One of his hands pulls away, his tan skin radiant in the moonlight. You bring up your hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You keep your eyes on his, “no more secrets. From either of us.”

He nods, a bargain tattoo beginning to snake its way on your skin. 

“No more running.”

The tattoo wove its way on your skin, dark tendrils solidifying where your forearms meet. When you pull your hand away, the tattoo is incomplete, missing the gaps where Azriel’s arm belongs.

Much like a one-sided duet, your tattoos look empty without the other there to complete the song that echoed in your chest, the song that hummed at the sight of him. The bond didn’t feel so much like a snap as a slow sinking, as if you had finally opened your eyes after so long. 

Wrapped in his arms, the two of you had a lot to figure out - the females, what to do with the strange occult Illyrians, but the two of you could do it.

He promised - no more running.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading 💕

[kittyhui]

“we should stop” trope with cheol

no smut, just suggestive MDNI

content tags: mutual friends to lovers (???sorta), cheol is a smoker (dont smoke..), reader is introverted, mentioned alcohol use, making out, being a bit freaky outside, cheol is hot

meeting your friends’ friends always had your introverted head reeling. “do i have to go?” you whine to jeonghan, one of your closest friends.

“no but you really should leave the house, y/n” he laughs. he was right. it was only a small get together at joshua’s (your other friend) apartment, it would only be a few other people, “you’ve met most of them anyways. plus you can stay with me and kyeomie as long as you want” he smiles at you as you finally agree to coming along.

…

surprisingly, it wasn’t as bad as you had thought. even though it was getting tiring dokyeom pulling you to meet all the people you haven’t been introduced to before, it was manageable.

“oh! i almost forgot” dokyeom says, looking at you, “you need to meet, cheol” he grabs your arm again, walking you over to another person youve never seen before. “coupsie!”

you watch as the man dokyeom calls for turns around, red hair looking like fire around his head, arms looking oh so delicious in the black shirt he was wearing, and his lips; god his lips, looking cherry red like he had just bitten them so hard they bled. he looked so intimidating with a scowl on his face, until he looks at kyeom and pouts.

“i told you to stop calling me thatttt” he sulks, lip jutting out. he finally seems to notice your presence, raising his thick brow before speaking again, “is this your friend you were talking about?”

“im sorryyy, the name is so cute, cheol. but yea! this is y/n!” dokyeom introduces, your face heating up with nervousness at the redhead staring down at you.

“hi. nice to me you…” you murmur, extending your hand for a handshake. what you didn’t expect is for him to take it and pull you a little closer to him.

“sorry” he laughs, “what did you say.. its too loud in here” you repeat yourself, stuttering over your words, before he finally pulls away, hearing the complains from dokyeom about cheol ‘teasing his friend’. “I’m seungcheol by the way. most of my friends just call me cheol tho. i prefer that.” you smile again before dokyeom pulls you away again to meet someone else.

….

the rest of the night went by smoothly, and now you finally had the chance to slip away from all the noise and step outside for a breather after having a bit too much to drink. the summer breeze felt refreshing compared to the heat coming from the apartment you were just in and you could finally take a deep breath in, admiring the night sky.

“too many people in there for your tastes?” you jump at the sudden voice, turning to see the red haired man from earlier, “sorry! i didn’t mean to startle you. it’s too many people in there for me too, if that makes you feel better” he smiles at you, before turning back to face the sky, putting a lit cigarette to his lips and inhaling the smoke.

“you know thats bad for you, right?” you say, backtracking when you see his eyes widen and him beginning to burn it out, “no its fine! i dont mind.. sorry im bad at small talk” you look down at your fingers, playing with them, still feeling his eyes on you.

“you’re cute.” he laughs. he takes another inhale from the cigarette before sitting on the steps of the apartment building. “sit with me” he pats the concrete next to him, signaling you to come.

as you sit close to him, you can smell the mix of smoke and his cologne on his clothes, the scent of them seemingly driving you insane, the alcohol running through your body making you scoot even closer into him, as if to try and smother yourself in the fragrance. “you smell really good” you say without thinking, immediately burning hot in embarrassment at the reality of what you just said. he turns to you, laughing loudly.

“thank you, cutie.” he smiles, looking into your eyes, “and you look very pretty. thought that since dokyeom introduced me to you. was trying to get you alone but hannie was protecting you like a mama bear.” you laugh before his words sink into your brain.

“what- what did you want to do when you got me alone?” you question, eyes looking him up and down. you were beyond close to each other at this point, you had practically one leg draped over his thigh, and you could feel his hand on it, steadying you a bit.

“you know what i wanted to do.” he says, eyes shifting towards your lips before looking back into your own, “i can still do it now.. if you’d like.” you only murmur a faint ‘yea’ and his lips touch yours, hands cradling your head, pressing you closer and closer together.

your mind sobers up a bit, realizing that you were currently outside, in front of your friends house, kissing a guy you met barely an hour ago. “we. should. stop.” you breathe out inbetween kisses. you know you don’t want to stop but your left brain was screaming at you to think logically.

“we- can. stop. if you want” cheol slurs out, lips kissing the corner of yours, a smirk resting on them. the moment you shake your head, he pulls you onto his lap fully, having you straddle his thighs. “you’re so pretty..” he sighs out, lips gliding down your neck, sucking a few times, leaving marks in their wake. your hands rest in his fiery locks, combing your fingers through them every so often as he pulls whines out of your mouth.

“cheolie…” you sigh out, grinding lightly on his thigh, testing the waters. he groans at the sight, pulling you in for another kiss before- ring ring ringgg

“fuck-“ he groans looking down at his phone now long abandoned along with his burnt out cigarette you didnt even realize was gone, “its shua. hold on, pretty. yea. uhhuh? oh. oh okay- okay bye.” you try to listen in but your attempts were futile. he hangs up the calls, lowering his phone and putting his hands on your waist. “‘m sorry, pretty. soonyoung is currently um- puking his guts out in a bedroom.. i’ll spare the details, but i have to help shua clean the mess.” he sighs, looking at you with guilty eyes.

you look at him a bit disappointed but nod, slipping off his lap. “its fine, cheol. go deal with that.” you smile and he smiles back before kissing your lips wetly once again.

“give me your number first. just incase i don’t see you before you leave.” he shyly speaks again, opening his phone again for you to type in your number.

“alright, here” you say, finishing up your contact information. “text me whenever.. now go! there’s vomit for you to clean” you giggle as he stands up and rushes inside again.

finally standing up again yourself, your legs feel like jelly as you walk into the apartment again, spotting jeonghan and dokyeom on the couch. “hey” you say as you sit down next to them.

“oh my lord, we were wondering where you were.” jeonghan say before looking at your state and gasping, “you look a mess? who were you with??” dokyeom laughs as your face heats up again.

“n-no one..” you splutter, biting your lip remembering the man you were just with. they roll their eyes at you, whining at the lack of details you were spilling as a ping comes from your phone.

Unknown Number

Hey. This is Seungcheol.

Want a ride home?

you can hear your friends gasp, obviously reading your messages at the same time.

You

yea :) would love that <3

you send your response and jeonghan nudges you teasingly, “seriously, choi seungcheol? that loser??” all you do is smile dumbly, excited to see him once more.

[palmtreesx3]

Deeper for You

Summary: (5.1 k) It's your annual beach trip with the crew from Hawkins, something you've all been doing together your whole adult life after life forced everyone to part ways. You're all close, but this year, an accidental encounter in the outdoor shower makes you get a little closer with one person in particular.

This is self indulgence at its finest. Fresh off my last week at the beach this summer, I needed a little Beach Steve in my life to tide me over.

Steve x Reader, NSFW 18+ Accidental exposure, friends to lovers, breast play, female oral, fingering, dirty talk encouraged, a little orgasm denial, maybe a spank and unprotected intercourse in the shower.

Crystal water. Crystal skies. Beach chairs circled around umbrellas and coolers. Crisp beers slipped in aging koozies and passed around like old times. You and your friends have been doing this for years. Ever since goals and lives and even some wives have taken the group here and there, Nancy started organizing this annual beach trip for the group from Hawkins. Years and miles have nothing on deep seeded trauma, she said once, in a too cheerful voice despite it's truth.

The heat of the sand between your toes and the smell of suntan lotion have become a comfort to you, just knowing you're back there with your closest friends. As you all creep closer to thirty than you'd like, this week never fails to make you feel nostalgic, youthful and forget all of your problems because it never feels like an ounce of time has passed with any of these people.

This year Nancy had to upgrade the rental - more rooms for yet another married couple in the mix, Eddie adding a wife - a little too sweet but just enough sass for him - into the fold. It was your first time meeting her, really meeting her, because no bride has the time for new friendship on their wedding weekend, and you've had such a nice week spending time with her. Chairs in the sand by the waterline together with a book most afternoons, leaving the raucous energy that comes after some morning beers as background noise to your fantasies.

"What are you two ladies reading over here anyway" Steve pokes at your shoulder on his way down to the water to cool off.

"They're fantasy novels, Steve. Naughty books, if you must know." You tease back, Eddies wife blushing beside you at your brazen honestly.

"Naughty books? Like love stories where they kiss and share a bed?"

"No Steve, like '... And then she felt the tips of his finger circle her clit before toying with her folds and the wetness pooling between her thighs. Edging her, pulling her closer but never giving her cunt what she really wants'" you read in an exaggerated and breathy voice direct from your page, picking up right where you left off. "That, Steve, is Naughty Books. "

"Shit. Okay. Well I'll leave you two to it, then. What the fuck." and he trots off into the waves. Sunkissed skin a perfect contrast to the white, foaming waves he's now floating in.

"So, that… you guys have a thing before or something?" Eddie's wife asks softly. So sweet, you can't even be mad at her for it.

"Steve?" You laugh, "No-no no. Just go way back "

"Oh I'm so sorry" she squeaks out, "I just thought… I mean you guys. Nevermind."

"Don't worry about it. We're all a little too close for comfort sometimes. I get it. We just have always gave each other shit as long as I've known him, that's all."

Later that night, the whole group gathers in the back of the house around a huge built in fire pit, all taking turns sharing, giving updates about life and work and families.

Late nights have been happening all week around this pit, but tonight is cool, and the Sangria Robin and Max mixed up is keeping you chilled.

"Hey, honey. You finally quit or do you want to join us over here?" Steve calls over to you, beckoning to the group of smokers over on the bench seat to the left of the fire.

"Every time I try… someone like you offers me a smoke and here I am again." You shrug as you lean over to snag the pack of cigarettes from Steve's outstretched hand before taking a seat. You slide out a slim cigarette and pull the lighter from it's spot in the back, lighting up and passing it back, kicking your feet out on the coffee table in front.

"Someone like Steve, what's that supposed to mean? You hurling insults again?" Johnathan teases.

"No, no. Byers, shut the fuck up. Lemme enjoy this sweet nicotine with my friends in peace, okay?" You roll your eyes, not actually knowing what you meant either, before shooting a look at Max sitting with the group. "Since when did you sit on the smokers bench? Huh?"

"Don't start with me mom. You've tried to quit four times a year for the past 10 years, so I don't even wanna hear it from you." The redhead sasses back.

Such a beautiful, self assured young women she's grown into, despite having such poor eyesight from…everything that happened…you have always had a soft spot for Max, and she for you. The glasses she wears are thick, despite years of corrective surgeries, but they don't take an ounce away from how lovely she's grown to be.

"Yeah yeah, just shut up and enjoy it. I bet Lucas hates it. Doesn't he? Goodie two shoes." You quip back and Max giggles in agreement, both of you taking a long drag as a follow up.

"You two man-eaters are trouble." Steve jabs.

"Excuse me, man-eaters? The one who has been dating the same guy since middle school and me, who goes on what, maybe 4 dates all year? Yeah total man-eaters, Steve."

After finishing your smokes, you all rejoin the group, playing dollar games of cards and dice, laughing the night away at bad luck and bad jokes. El has been banished to watching over participating and when Eddie's wife asks why, the mutters and mumbling of a wide variety of excuses poured out.

"It's uh - against her religion!" straight from Dustin's mouth won out, mostly because it was the loudest. So now you're all pretending El is Muslim, and that's definitely not going to last the rest of the week.

It's nearing two am as you pad up the stairs, pockets 10 dollars deeper, sand still clinging to your feet just barely and Steve's button up on your shoulders from when he passed it to you to quell your chill. Just like every other night of the trip, you sleep like a baby, tucked in a soft mattress with softer sheets and the blanket of a decent buzz still coursing through your bloodstream.

The next day is the last on the shore and after a late start and breakfast cooked up by Nancy and Johnathan to sop up the hangovers the day goes on much like the rest before it. Relaxing in beach chairs and blankets, music softly humming from a boom box in the shade of the umbrella, balls being tossed in a friendly game of touch football in the loose sand by the dunes.

The tide was rough today and swept you and Eddie's girl away on your chairs once before you slipped your books back in your beach bag and decided if you can't beat it, join it. Frolicking in the waves together, the rest of the group is shortly behind you joining in.

It's not five minutes until Eddie is tackling his wife into the crashing waves, rolling her dramatically in the lapping waves and sand. Max and El are jumping through crashing waves, hand in hand trying to make it past the crest and to where it is calm. Some of the boys are sitting in the sand watching and enjoying the cool breeze you catch when you're closer to the sea.

You, well, you were enjoying yourself wholeheartedly. That is until you're making your way back to shore and a huge wave creeps up behind you and slams you to the ground. Water currents tossing you around a bit like a ragdoll, it's a moment before strong arms pull you up and out, wiping your hair out of your face and brushing the wet globs of sand off you as you regroup. It's Steve who's got you and brings you back to shore, where you flop down on the sand together and burst out in laughter after you're both sure that you're alright, making it even harder to catch your breath.

The day at the beach was way more sandy than usual because of it all, sitting in the sand, being thrown around by gritty waves and soupy sand finding it's way intermingling with your bathing suit. You just can't wait till the end of the day to shower and hose off, so you dip away to hop in the rinse shower along the side of the property. Door swung shut, you run the water cold so it's as refreshing as it is a welcome rinse to your body where the sand is sticking and scratches.

Hair slicked back by the cool droplets, you're realizing quickly that a simple rinse won't rid your swimsuit of all of the caked in sand. Maneuvering your emerald green one piece to shake free the grit of the ocean, you're making progress as you drop your wide set straps off your shoulders and start working out the sand from your upper half.

It's just then that Steve must have had the same idea, and he's traipsing through the door of the shower himself, only to find you, strap down, left breast fully exposed, tan lines of your right crisp and leaving nothing to the imagination the way the suit is bunching down, and your hands coaxing the water over them from the low pressure showerhead to work off the sand.

"Holy fuck!" You both yell at the same time.

Yours an exclamation. A "Holy FUCK!" A barked out reaction to the surprise. The admonishment of your friend who doesn't seem to pay a goddamn mind to anything going on around him or he would have heard the shower tap on and running when he approached.

But his… Well, his was a statement. A "Holy. Fuck." Drawn out. A deep and gravely comment made to acknowledge the surprise he's found. More of an interest than an intrusion.

So when you reached to cover yourself and hide from embarrassment as a knee jerk reaction, he didn't make quite as quick a move to leave you be. He lingered, just enough for you to notice and under his breath whispered out again "Holy fuck."

Adequately covered, or at least enough that you can feel functional at this point, you look at him to quip "Are you just gonna stare or what?" And you expect him to snap out of his titty haze and leave you be to shake out the rest of your sand trap, but he doesn't.

Instead he asks, "Well, is that an invitation?"

Your eyes narrow at him, and he shrugs in reaction. "You can't be serious, Steve. Get outta here."

"I save you, and this is the thanks I get?" He teases, and you can't help but see how his eyes, blown out and black, don't move from your body when he says it.

"Steve." You say, quietly.

"Yeah?"

"I can thank you later." comes out just above a whisper.

"I think I'd rather you thanked me now."

When you don't argue back, or say anything for that matter, he takes that as enough of an answer as he needs. He knows you, and he knows that you have no problem telling someone to take a hike, so if you're not yelling at him like he's a small boy who got his hand caught in the cookie jar, he knows you're inviting him to take a bite.

So he's inside the shower quicker than your mind can even catch up to what's happening. He's crowding your space and reaching backwards to do the one thing you forgot to do yourself, hook the damn lock. You're pretty sure this man hasn't moved his eyes from you since the moment the door opened and at this point, you're meeting his gaze.

A sweeping hand, under your ear and landing on the nape of your neck is what shakes you out of your daze and before you know it his lips are on yours. It's a bruising thing, the way he presses them into yours, pulling you closer still by where his hand is cupping your head with his broad hand. You come up for air just a second before he backs off and you find yourself, open mouthed and smiling into his lips, still pressing into you. "Fuck. Honey. I- you okay? With this? I don't wanna… "

"I know I tell you this all the time, but this is different. Steve, you fuckin talk too much. Shut. Up." You say, emphasizing your words with two little tugs to his own hair where your hands have snaked around, too.

And he takes this welcome advance as an opportunity to wrap his other hand around you, up and under your arm, resting at the center of your back. Pressing together, you're so close. Impossibly so, and every little tick of the hip or twitch of the lips can be felt by the other instantaneously. He's testing you out but getting bolder by the second when he experimentally rolls his hips just a bit before coaxing your legs a bit wider to slot his knee in between. You gasp out at the feeling of him against you and involuntarily find yourself rolling your cunt against his thigh.

"Ah-oh fuck. Shit. Steve." You squeak out, as you look down to see that he's tucked up his swim shorts high enough that your grinding on his exposed thigh. Bristly hair on his legs commingling with the scratch of the sand and sea salt on your own thighs.

"C'mon, honey. You came in here to get clean. Me too. Lemme help you, yeah? '

Nodding your permission, he gently slips his fingers under the still loose straps of your suit, coaxing them down further, fingers ghosting over your arms as he works them down.

You've been doing this trip for years, and you swear the last thing you ever thought would happen was having Steve fucking Harrington peeling off your wet swimsuit in the shower. "You sandy all over, huh? Me too. Gotta rinse you off." he says, as he's reaching up for the shower head, detaching it from its base and bringing it down in between the two of your chests. Holding it there for a moment, he seems to consider this whole thing for the first time. "You-your good, right? I mean, I trust you. Do you trust me? "

"Yeah Steve, I do." You say, pressing your forehead to his and blinking away droplets gathering on your eyelashes.

He pulls the rest of your swimsuit away from where it's suctioned on your tummy and works it down your body, dropping heavy and wet on the shower floor. Once it's out of his way, he's back on your lips, sucking in your bottom lip just as you feel the cool water hitting your clit. Steve moves the shower head gently but purposely around your whole cunt, paying attention to your sensitive bud between passes through your folds. "Gotta get you cleaned up, huh? Need you clean for me. For what I'm gonna do next." He teases and you moan at his words.

Not exactly sure what he has planned just yet, you let him keep working your pussy clean and with every second of the pulsing jets of water hitting your clit rhythmically. "Yeah, baby I think you're all set." He states, replacing the shower head where it belongs and reaching his free hand down to rub through your folds, checking to be sure you're comfortable and free of that pesky sand.

When he's met with yet another whimper he's immediately dropping to his knees on the wet planks of the shower floor "Can I please, please taste you. Please."

"I didn't take you as one to beg, Harrington." You whisper out the tease.

"I will for this - for you. God, would you just answer me?"

You look down at him and nod but he wants your words instead, commanding you to speak up. And so you do, you gasp out confirmation just as his lips latch on to your already sensitive clit. He suckles there a little bit, before moving to make his tongue wide and flat coaxing noises from you that he doesn't want to forget the sound of.

He throws your thigh over his shoulder, giving him deeper, more angled access to your cunt, working you, moving it in and left to right. You cry out as his nose nudges at your clit while he slips a finger in up to his second knuckle and the cry turns silent as he keeps up his ministrations. Droplets of water are tickling down your chest and stomach, soaking his hair and face where he stays tucked in between your thighs. He shakes his head back and forth tapping at your clit with his movement and making you see stars.

Adding in another finger, he keeps lapping at your pussy, taking breaks to nip at the place where your thighs meet your sex and back again. He licks off a trail of water along the seam of your leg before making his way back to your center. Scissoring his fingers, he groans right into you and the vibration of it all drives you wild. "God, you fuckin taste like heaven. So good." And he dives back in, running his wide tongue along your entrance, drawing it front and upward toward your clit.

This time he pauses and presses his tongue up into the base of your clit, holding it there just as he presses both long fingers up and into your spongy spot, freeing the most wanton sound yet from deep within your throat. It spurs him on to keep going, pulsing that tongue and stroking that spot within. You're tensing and shaking under his strong grip and soft tongue, leg still hiked high over him, water cascading around the both of you. You're tumbling over the edge quickly after that.

In a bit of a daze and with wobbly knees, you swing your leg back down off his shoulder and bring him up towards you by his ears, wanting to taste yourself on his tongue in ways you never have before, and he looks beautiful like that. Eyes wide and wanton, hair dripping wet down his hair spattered chest, jaw slack in his own lust and pleasure, lips a deep pink and swollen from working you up down there. You bring him up fully to meet your lips and groan into his mouth, your taste heady and salty and beachy.

"I think you're clean" he laughs out as he pulls back just slightly and you can't help but bark out a laugh back. He takes the opportunity to latch on to your neck and bites at the skin under your ear.

In that moment you decide you're not done with him.

Tugging at the ties of his swim trunks, Steve pulls back to look at you. "N-no, we don't have to."

You hear his words but you also feel the hardness underneath those trunks, "Steve, it's - it's no big deal. You started this. Let me… let's finish, yeah?" You eye him teasingly, eyebrows raised, "Something tells me you want to."

"You're a menace, you know that right? Always have been."

"Yeah, but you're into it, apparently." you stand on your tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yeah." He gets out as you lick the water droplets up "Seeing you here every year. Highlight of my trip. Swear to God."

And as his soaked trunks hit the floor, the pair of you are both fully exposed standing under the running water together. Running your hand along his chest, playing with the tufts of hair there, you hook your finger though the thin chain hanging from his neck and pull him closer. "Steve." You whisper into his mouth.

"Yeah, whaddya need, honey?"

"You. God just, please fuck me. Okay?"

Clutching you close by the waist, he hikes your leg up and around his hip, reaching down along your ass to rub at your pussy from behind, working you up again. Almost teasing. The rock hard length of him is pressed up between your two tummies, begging to be paid attention to, so you break your bodies apart for just a second to angle him down, slipping if wetly between your lower lips - a mix of water and your hot dripping slick letting him slip through your folds.

A whimper slips out of your lips as his head catches your clit and he takes the opportunity to press into you, sounds something like a growl falling from his own lips at the feeling. Your mind is going blank, but the one thing you're sure of is that Steve Harrington's dick is huge. "Ohmigod, you're, bi- oh" you moan as he adds another few inches, moving slowly for you. "Fuck, you're huge. Jesus, Steve."

"Yeah? Biggest you ever had? God, tell me it's the biggest you've ever took."

"Shit" you hiss, as he bottoms out inside you, yelping out as you both finally meet at the base. "Yeah, shit. No one's ever been that fuckin deep, Steve. Holy shit."

"Fuck, yeah. I'm gonna move now, okay? You're good, right?" And you nod, enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically.

You've known Steve almost your whole life. You've played on playground swing sets growing up, rolled your eyes at his antics at your friends' parties in high school, cheered him on at basketball games and worked alongside him as lifeguards at the country club pool. You give him shit, he gives it back to you. You share comfortable silences and close friends. He's had your back in the face of monsters and raging fires… But right now, all that's on your mind is how he's pounding into your pussy in this shower and why this has never ever happened before in all these years. Because Jesus Christ, it's feeling euphoric.

The slapping of skin echoes loudly in the wooden and metal enclosure of the shower, bodies slick with water , hands gliding along your back and along your ass, keeping that knee hiked high for him, yours clutching the front of his shoulders and digging crescent moons into his skin. He's making noises, has he thrusts up into you at a bruising pace, hitting your cervix and making you cry out…but he's holding back all the same and all you want is him to let go a little more.

"Fuck, wait. Holy shit. Lemme just… " you drop your leg down and hear his small whine as he slips out of you, but you're quick to flip your body around, leaning forward and bracing yourself on the beams of the wooden door frame, shaking your ass at him in an invitation to get close to you again. "Wait. Wait… " you gasp out as you feel his tip nudge against your entrance from behind.

"What's wrong? Are you .. are you okay? I can stop." He gets out through heaving breaths.

"No. I'm good… but if you wanna finish me off, you gotta do one thing for me." Looking over your shoulder, giving him a playful but serious look.

"What'dya need. Honey. Anything. What do you want?" He holds his cock, pulsing and screaming to be let back inside your warm and velvety walls, dots of precome rinsed off by the droplets of water as fast as they emerge.

"Don't hold back. Just… .let me hear you. I wanna hear you. Talk to me. Don't shut up. And fuck - fuck me harder" you hiccup out.

"Yeah, yeah okay. I'll … I'll - fuck" he pushes in fully in one slide, no resistance from you in the least. "You wanna hear how good you make me feel huh? Always so cocky. Jesus."

His fingers are pressing into the tops of your thighs, purple mottled marks already blooming there under his fingertips as he pulls you backwards, spearing you on his cock, meeting him thrust for thrust. His other hand is wrapped around your waist, reaching for the soft of your belly, snaking up your chest until he finds your tits, nipples peaked with the chill of the air now that you're not directly under the stream of water. He runs his thumb along your nipples, giving them a playful flick back and forth before massaging them and pulling you up to meet him, back to chest.

In this position, you can drop yourself down as you meet his upward thrusts, bouncing on his cock and you feel his tip nudging a particular spot inside you that makes your walls constrict. "Oh honey, yeah? That's it. That's the spot isn't it?" And you can tell that has Steve's mind going off the deep end, making good on his promises to let you hear him, he's babbling, water splashing and raining down on you both, his grunts getting louder, and your name slipping off his lips in a whisper, like it belongs there.

Reaching back and around his neck, you turn so that you can see him and tilt his down to meet your gaze. Mouths both open, panting into one another, lips touching but never connecting because you can't quite sync up with the way you're both grinding on each other. "Jesus Christ, hnng fuck, I'm gonna… honey. Where do you want me? C'mon. Tell me."

You hear his sharp intake of a breath and feel his lips latch on to your throat, leaving sloppy kisses and sucking a bruise into it that you know you'll have to explain to your friends later. "Nnn-no. No. Not yet. I told you, lemme hear you. You're holding back I can tell."

"Oh-okay yeah. Gimme a sec. " He breathes through his nose taking in the scent of whatever vanilla soap you were using before he barreled in, maybe a little coconut still left over from your sunscreen, too. He exhales as his hand drifts down your front, settling over your mound and expertly finding your clit once again. He's rubbing figure eights, before sliding it between his two fingers, giving it pressure and pull from the sides as he continues to thrust into you from behind, bouncing you with very little effort because of how wet and slick you are from the shower.

"You're a fuckin' piece of work, you know that. Shit - taking me like this… fuck. " He growls out as he bends you forward fully now, holding you up by your chest as he rams into you. Leaning over just enough to get close to your ear he whispers in "Ya gonna let me come now? Fuck - ya gonna let me put it on your back? Huh? Your tits? Where do you wanna have it, honey?" He hisses as you grind your hips backwards and clench down hard on his shaft, squeezing on him and making his thrusts slow down, become more meticulous, more purposeful.

You're gasping in air and squeaking out noises of all kinds in time with his thrusts, telling him just how good he's making you feel between breaths. Just how deep he is hitting you. Just how much you wanna hear him when he comes. He's huffing out breaths and promising you things like next time as he's incoherently babbling praises at you as you ride back on his dick.

"You like when I talk about coming for you? You wanna have it, yeah?"

"Y-yeah I wanna. Inside. Do it inside, fuck!" You shout out, water from the showerhead beating on your back as his thrusts are jolting you forward where you're braced against the door. The janky little rusted metal latch holding on for dear life as he continues his pace, chasing his high and praying to God you let go with him.

He's feeling bold now that his brain is only chasing your orgasms. He groans the loudest moan you've heard from him this whole time as you feel him tense behind you, keeping up his movements but, just barely. His hips are stuttering and his hand falls down on your ass in a loud smack. "Ohhh shit. Honey. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about."

Your walls give him one last squeeze and you grip him tight, legs shaking under you as your orgasms rushes over your whole body. He has to hold you up as it rolls through your body, flashes going off behind your eyes as you cry out with pleasure. The pain from the smack to your ass being washed away with the cool of the water trickling over you.

It takes him only three firm thrusts more to fill you up, stuttering sounds falling from his lips. Incoherent blabbers and praises and gasps of your name spurting out along with his come.

You're both absolutely breathless, heaving chests and deep sighs filling the air while still connected to one another. Steve pulls you up slowly as he slips out of you, and spins you around. Still cradling your body and wrapping you into him, he pulls you both under the water to rinse off and come back down from wherever you both are floating off to right now. As you stand there swaying under the cascade, he brings his lips to your temple with a kiss as he mutters "I did mean it. I love seeing you here every year."

You hum along with him, because you do love seeing him too. You just never thought about it like this before. And now that you have, you're pretty sure it's the only way you can from here on out.

"We should probably get back down to the beach. I'm sure at least one of those nosey dipshits have noticed were both missing by now." Steve says against your skin.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. But you are the one explaining these marks you left on me. I'm not saying a peep."

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart. You had a lot to say when I was in-"

"Stop that right now. If you wanna even think about doing this again, you're gonna stop right now." You roll your eyes at him while wrapping yourself with a towel and unlatching the door. As you back out and start up towards the house to grab a new swimsuit, he sees the grin on your face.

"Yeah, okay honey. Shutting my mouth now...so I'll definitely see ya later, then." He says with a wink, just as the door shuts and your left naked, wrapped up in Steve Harrington's towel with all your friends gathered round the grill out back making lunch watching you as you make your way around the path.

Eddie snarls a wide grin at you as he brings both thumbs up, his wife slapping his chest when she notices. "Hey Nance!" He yells out. "I think Harrington's got himself a new roommate for next trip!"

[deadmandead10845]

Brady - Fat2Fit2Fat

(243lbs) Brady works at an insurance agency in Kansas City. He’s far away from everything, and hates his job. He hates commuting and has two acquaintances and no real friends. He’s let himself go pretty badly, but he doesn’t have the will power to hit the gym or change any part of his life. Thankfully, he’s been at his company for 10 years and earns a 3 month sabbatical with full pay to use.

(243lbs) Brady took the first part of his sabbatical to hike in the mountains solo. He stumbled upon what looked like an abandoned shack with smoke coming out of the chimney. He knew nightfall would be soon so he wanted to ask the local if he could crash at their place for the night. He knocked on the door and it opened itself. He let himself in and called.

BRADY: Hello!!!

(243lbs) A mysterious figure appeared around the corner. The woman introduced herself as Cora.

CORA: I’ve been practicing witchcraft in the mountains since I was little and now I am the only one left. Some witch will reveal too much about herself and then she’s hunted by the locals. I chose to reveal my house and myself to you because I can tell you’re not from here and you have an open mind.

BRADY: I definitely have an open mind. I came here to the mountains to find myself. I am on a sabbatical trying to find some sort of motivation.

CORA: What is one thing you don’t have control over that you wish to have infinite control of?

BRADY: *looks down at his soft out of shape body and looks up*

His body has always been a sense of insecurity that made him feel inadequate and less than because he wishes he was fit.

CORA: Nothing with power, career, money?

BRADY: I just want to like how I look and control what I look like.

CORA: *rummages through the cabinet and throws some leaves into what looks like a brewing potion. Once all the ingredients were stirred in, the liquid began to glow a pale orange color.*

BRADY: Is this legit going to help me?

CORA: You drink and find out. Or you can go beg your doctor for Ozempic and forget you came here. At least this is free!

BRADY: I’m not being drugged right now?

CORA: You are, just not a bad kind.

BRADY: *takes the vial of orange liquid and drinks it*

CORA: How do you wish to look?

BRADY: I just want to lose like 75 pounds.

(165lbs) Brady’s pants fell down immediately and his blue polo shirt wore him like a dress.

BRADY: Holy shit I must be hallucinating.

CORA: You’re not but I figured you’d have this reaction. Sleep it off.

Cora snapped her fingers and Brady’s vision blacked out.

—

Brady woke up in his hotel room down at the base of the mountain. He walked to the bathroom and sure enough he was completely thin. He went to put on an outfit and quickly realized nothing in his suitcase would fit him. Everything he had was a 40” waist and all his shirts were XL. He ran through the closest Walmart holding his shorts bunched up in his hand hoping he wouldn’t drop them and bought a new pair of 30” waist shorts. He was so happy.

After his 3 months concluded, he returned to Missouri and submitted his 2 week notice. He wanted a fresh start where he could show off his new skinny body and get laid for once. He was a gay man living in the Midwest with approximately 5 blank Grindr profiles within a 25 mile radius.

(149lbs) Brady packed up all his belongings and moved to Miami. He looked in the mirror and audibly said “I wish I was a twink.” And in the blink of an eye another 15 pounds disappeared off his body. He met Javi at Twist, the local gay club near his apartment. After almost 2 years, the two fell in love and became inseparable and lived together. Javi told Brady he should start going to the gym and getting big arms and a six pack because he wasn’t super into twinks. Brady quietly looked at himself in the bathroom mirror once or twice a week asking for just 1 pound more trying to subtly get larger for Javi without alerting him to his powers given to him by the witch.

(195lbs) Brady had gotten extremely fit and did no work for it. The potion he took two years ago was unbelievable. Javi loved Brady’s new extremely fit body and Brady loved the attention. Brady however, wasn’t sure he loved how he looked. Javi was going away on business to Houston for a month, so Brady booked himself a trip to Hawaii by himself to hopefully ground himself.

(210lbs) Brady wished another 15 pounds of muscle onto his body before he left for Hawaii. He wanted to look his best for the beach so he could post photos of his body online for attention. He wasn’t the happiest, so the online attention helped. Once he landed in Hawaii he took the private boat to the small isolated island resort he had booked.

(175lbs) Brady hated how he looked so he wished 30 pounds off his body because he thought a leaner look would suit him and he tried to walk around the beach and feel comfortable but he really wasn’t sure why he wasn’t comfortable with himself. Brady had an idea, he went to the surf shop in the lobby and bought himself a pair of 2XL swim trunks and went up to his room. He bought himself a case of beers and drank away. He got in the mirror looked at himself and asked for a dad bod.

(280lbs) Brady, still very much in shape but much larger (100lbs larger to be exact) walked down the beach with his beer gut and massive arms. He was happy. He actually liked how he looked. No one recognized him from earlier and all the other guests just thought he was a new arrival to the resort. Brady went back to the surf shop and bought a 2XL Hawaiian shirt before returning home to Florida.

(305lbs) Brady was a huge guy. He wished himself even bigger and squeezed himself into the premium economy seat he booked on points and flew home to Florida. He spent nearly 12 hours total on the plane and when he walked in the door felt like everything was all wrong. He was skinny Brady in Florida, not big and beefy. Javi was due to arrive at any minute. When Brady heard the lock turning, he ran to the bathroom and wished his body back to his 195lb self.

Javi found the 2XL shirts and asked and Brady told him he was trying oversized fashion and didn’t like it, so he threw the shirt away. Brady couldn’t stop thinking about his little escape he had in Hawaii and after a few months went back to the bathroom and wished to be a bit bigger. Javi hated it so much. Javi kept telling Brady to hit the treadmill and to eat less.

(243lbs) Brady was back at the same weight he was before he met Cora the witch. However, he had so much muscle on his body he was a lot smaller than Javi still hated it. Brady loved his small belly and missed playing with the belly he once had when he was an insurance agent back in Missouri. The two attended couple’s therapy to no avail. Ultimately, it let to Brady and Javi breaking up. Javi kicked Brady out of the apartment. Just to get back at Javi, Brady lost all the weight before coming to the apartment to collect his belongings.

Brady needed a new start so he called one of his buddies in New York who was starting a boutique insurance agency and cofounded it with him.

(327lbs) Brady wanted a fresh start in New York so he bought a 3XL hoodie and sweat at the last Walmart before the Holland tunnel, and sat in traffic looking in the mirror and wished to be fat. He’d never been as big as he was now. He watched his body tighten the dress of a hoodie he had put on and fill it out. Compared to last week in Miami, he was completely unrecognizable. He was truly starting over. Once he showered in his apartment he got a look at his new fat body covered in stretch marks and rolls. Brady was generally happy with his size. The only drawback and he couldn’t find much clothing in the city stores that fit him well so he was barely able to dress well.

(327lbs) Four years went by and Brady’s joint venture had taken off. He was able to buy an apartment and afford more than ever. He seemed very content. He was overworked. One fateful day on the train he dozed off. In his dream he was even fatter than he is now. The dream was so vivid he could feel his body sloshing with every step.. when in reality the jerky subway train was sloshing him around. He missed his stop and rode the train to the end asleep. In the dream, Brady said he wanted to get fatter and…

(415lbs) He woke up. His shirt had ridden up his entire belly and his pants completely ripped. He was huge. Brady embarrassed walked to the next departing train that would get him home attracting the stares of everyone for the lack of clothing he had one, especially for his size. Brady decided to take several months remote from work after that, to give his business partner a believable timeline for his nearly 100lb weight gain.

(415lbs) Brady went to Industry, a New York gay bar and opened up his shirt in hopes he would find a chub chaser. Unfortunately he just got stares.

(451lbs) Brady had to get an entire new suit made for him because of his sheer girth. His seamstress couldn’t believe the size of him. She had made him his suit four years ago when he weighed more than a hundred pounds less. Brady knew it wasn’t going to last long because he planned to put a little more weight on. His business partner couldn’t believe the size of him either. Brady needed to remove the armrests on his desk chair so he could fit.

(485lbs) By the summer, Brady had willed another 35lbs onto his body. He attended a big party on Fire Island having fun with his friends. All of the sudden he saw a familiar face.

Javi.

BRADY: Javi???

JAVI: Hiiii…. Have we met?

BRADY: Javi it’s me

JAVI: Where have we met you look so familiar??

BRADY: It’s me, Brady

JAVI: Brady who?

BRADY: Your ex boyfriend.

JAVI: There is just no way. I thought you lost all the weight you put on.

BRADY: Then I gained it back, and then some

JAVI: Holy shit Brady you look awful, do you need me to get you a nutritionist? I am worried.

BRADY: No not at all. I am super happy the way I look.

JAVI: Weren’t you happy when half of Miami wanted to f*ck you?

BRADY: No, but I am happy now.

JAVI: Can I ask how much…

BRADY: How much I weigh?

JAVI: ….

BRADY: Four Hundred Eighty Five pounds last I checked. I don’t really fluctuate.

JAVI: God, this is just insane to me..

Javi walked away.

About 10 minutes later, Javi’s friend Andres walked by and…

ANDRES: Brady?

BRADY: Andres long time no see

ANDRES: I’m sorry Javi said all that… he’s just insecure and projecting on you.

BRADY: Yeah that’s why we broke up all those years ago.

ANDRES: Well, let me tell you. I like the change

Andres grabbed Brady’s belly from underneath and leaned in and kissed Brady on the cheek. He began to walk away.

BRADY: Wait a second, Andres!

Brady grabbed Andres’s hand and pulled him back for a real kiss. Andres’s hand found its way back to under Brady’s belly jiggling it while the pair made out.

Javi watched from a distance fuming with anger.

BRADY: Does a guy like me get to ask you for your number?

ANDRES: Definitely.

Javi walked over

JAVI: Wow Andres making out with my fat ex in front of me is really classy.

ANDRES: Sorry you’re too superficial to understand what a big guy can give you.

(508lbs) After texting for weeks, Andres invited Brady to go golfing with his friend.

ANDRES: Hey big fella.

BRADY: Hey handsome, ready to play?

ANDRES: Yes it’s been a while.

BRADY: It’s been too long for me too.

ANDRES: Shirt’s a bit small Brady…

Brady, embarrassed tried to pull the shirt down over his belly. He knew it was way too small but wanted to test Andres.

BRADY: Wow, I seem to have grown out of it…

ANDRES: Been a while since you wore it?

BRADY: I think this fit me when we met a few weeks ago.

ANDRES: Are you going to try to tell me it shrunk in the wash then?

BRADY: No, I just have put on about 25 pounds since that pool party and haven’t bothered to go shopping.

ANDRES: Wha— … how?

BRADY: Guess I’ve been hungry

Andres knew that Brady was the man for him in that moment. The two began dating.

(528lbs) Brady had gotten into the bad habit of putting 15lbs on every time he was going to be seen at an event to show that he was a growing man. He attended one of his friend’s backyard weddings and knocked over one of the displays with his huge belly.

Everyone who saw him at this point was asked if he was doing ok or if he needed anything. Some of the attendees even offering to give him a doctor referral for weight loss drugs. He assured them he was perfectly ok.

(600lbs) Brady admittedly took it too far. Brady had weighed in at 551lbs this morning. He had some room in his suit and had a big event for his company. He and his business partner were announcing the sale of their company to a big insurance company. He stood on the scale and watched the number go up until he hit 600lbs on the dot.

He was now basically 75lbs heavier than he was 4 months ago. After the sale of his company, Brady was to retire with enough money for him and his grandchildren (if he ever had any) to live comfortably.

When he got home, he totally forgot he would be facing Andres.

ANDRES: Brady…

BRADY: Hey honey.

ANDRES: Something is different

BRADY: What happened.

ANDRES: You look different. Something is just off.

BRADY: I am not sure what you are talking about.

ANDRES: Wait. Is that the suit you had made last week?

BRADY: Yes

ANDRES: Then why does it look like it’s about to pop.

BRADY: Oh yes something is different.

ANDRES: What.

BRADY: I got fatter.

ANDRES: Since this morning?

BRADY: Babe I think it’s time I tell you something.

Brady explained to Andres the whole story about his past life in Missouri. His sabbatical, meeting Cora the witch. He explained how he lost all the weight for Javi. Went to Hawaii and experimented with his body in different sizes.

ANDRES: What do you expect me to believe you have powers or something?

BRADY: Watch this

Brady walked into the bathroom, and willed himself to be a twink again. He walked out weighing 150lbs adorned with abs.

Andres walked to the kitchen and splashed cold water in his face. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

BRADY: I would never tell anyone about this.

ANDRES: You chose to be fat?

BRADY: If I didn’t I wouldn’t be living with the man of my dreams so let’s not.

ANDRES: Ok you’re scaring me you look emaciated.

BRADY: Oh yeah.

The two started to make out while Brady’s body slowly inflated back to 600lbs. Brady’s face filled out and his abs disappeared. Slowly a belly started to form along with soft supple moobs. His love handles expanded outward and his body started to widen. His thighs began to push against each other as they filled with fat.

Andres was so horny watching his boyfriend blow up to such a massive size and came hands free when he watched the fat pad swallow up Brady’s dick.

ANDRES: So how much do you weigh now?

BRADY: Let’s go see

The scale read 600 pounds.

Brady maintained 600 pounds for a while and about a year and a half into dating Andres, knew it was time. He popped the question getting down on one knee.

He couldn’t get back up after getting down which was very hot to Andres, who eagerly said yes.

(705lbs) Brady returned to the mountains. He bought three aur plane seats and filled them up with his girth. He struggled but he hiked his way all the way up to Cora’s hut wearing a suit to thank her for her potion that changed his life.

Brady knocked on the door which immediately opened. His belly knocked over a beaker off the table which led to Cora running into the room.

CORA: How did you get in here??

BRADY: I opened the door.

CORA: How did you find my house?

BRADY: I’ve been here before.

CORA: Who are you??

BRADY: Do you not remember me?

CORA: No, and I would.

She looked down at Brady’s belly.

BRADY: Oh right would this help?

Brady pulled out his phone and showed her a photo of him from about 10 years before. A photo of him and Javi together where he was less than 200lbs.

CORA: What was your name.. Bradley?

BRADY: Brady, close enough.

CORA: Did I do something wrong with the potion, brew it wrong?? I am so sorry!! Let me help you slim down.

BRADY: No, I am this big by choice. I could get down to this weight again any time.

CORA: Why?

BRADY: I was skinny for a while and I just didn’t like it. I was constantly making adjustments to my body so other men would see me as hot. My boyfriend left me when I decided to try out a *very slight* dad bod.

CORA: So you did this? You could’ve been half the size and still been fat.

BRADY: Well some days it just doesn’t feel like enough.

CORA: I never expected you to look like this. I expected you to have gotten massively jacked and been narcissistic.

BRADY: You were wrong

CORA: Very.

BRADY: I came here to thank you. It took me a long time to get up the mountain, but I knew that before long it would not be possible with my size.

CORA: You could’ve shrunken down to climb up here…

BRADY: But that isn’t me

CORA: Well I am happy.

BRADY: Being confident with my size and my body found me the best fiance ever.

CORA: You mean a chub chaser?

BRADY: —

CORA: Right.

BRADY: Well I mean you would have to be to like me at this size anyways. People stare.

CORA: I am staring.

BRADY: Well thank you for doing this for me.

CORA: Any time. Here, let me get you something.

Cora made a green cocktail of ingredients. She bottled them up.

CORA: You two are getting married?

She said looking at the Lock Screen on Brady’s phone.

BRADY: Yes

CORA: Wait until your wedding night to drink this. You both need to drink it for it to work.

BRADY: What is it?

CORA: You two will never break up or fight.

BRADY: This is perfect.

CORA: You also will never get health issues from your weight because you look like a heart attack waiting to happen.

BRADY: Hey!

CORA: So don’t have one before your wedding!

(750lbs) Brady and Andres had a lovely wedding.

The two got married and after the reception concluded, drank the potions together.

(785lbs) Brady loved going out and seeing the reactions on everyone’s faces seeing his size. He would eat for hours just for show and go home stuffed.

(830lbs) Brady was walking through Central Park. Let’s be real, he was barely moving and barely waddling. Suddenly he saw a familiar face again.

BRADY: Javi!!

JAVI: Holy fuck Brady you are huge.

BRADY: I know. Why are you here?

JAVI: I moved here for work. I got a job at an insurance company.

BRADY: You mean the one named after my last name that I just sold?

JAVI: Oh my god..

BRADY: Yup!

JAVI: What's new with you. I haven't seen you since you hooked up with my best friend at a pool party. I haven't seen him either that was so messy and rude of you.

BRADY: We got married.

JAVI: What…

BRADY: Yes we've been married for just about a year.

JAVI: Bet he didn't expect you to get fatter than you already were.

BRADY: He probably didn't but he loves it. He takes care of me and all the things I can't do anymore.

JAVI: I am so glad I left you before this happened.

BRADY: Me too. Next time you see me, I'm sure I'll be even bigger.

Andres walked up between the two of them.

ANDRES: Javi?

JAVI: This is insane. You married him??

ANDRES: Yes.. of course

JAVI: Why did you let him get this big

BRADY: I’ll answer that. He likes his men big, and I wanted to get big.

JAVI: Is that why you tried to get a dad bod all those years ago?

BRADY: Yes, and now I weigh more than eight hundred pounds.

ANDRES: 830 to be exact.

Javi stormed away.

The end.

[hauntedwitch04]

I hate you Black

Regulus Black x reader

Words: about 4.1k words

Warnings: some angst, sexy Reggie and some funny times

Author’s note: Hi everybody! It's so good being back, I missed writing and this is the first one-shot I write in a lot of time, so I'm really grateful for every tiny bit of love you gave me. This is my first time writing for the kinktober, hope you enjoy my writing.

P.s. i don't really now how much is hate fuck this fic, but here we are.

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KINKTOBER -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 1: Hate fucking

To say that Regulus and I do not get along is an understatement.

We have been part of the same group of friends, namely the Marauders, for years now, since both my brother, James, and his brother, Sirius, are best friends, in fact they often consider each other almost brothers, on the contrary however the two of us have not been able to find common ground and usually always end up insulting each other and playing stupid jokes to irritate the other person.

Since our first year at Hogwarts, we have clashed because of our pride and desire to prove ourselves better than the other, and this challenge has continued outside of school, in everyday life.

This party is no different.

Sirius and Remus wanted to inaugurate the new apartment they decided to get, to live together, after being together for almost a year already, and so they threw a party with all their closest friends, including me and the younger Black.

I don't quite remember how I ended up straddling him with my hands around his neck, but I do remember the reason for that choice. Between his various jokes and yet another spilled glass on my favorite shirt because of his "carelessness," although we all know that if anyone is graceful it is him, the moment he mentioned what is now my ex-boyfriend. Just before coming to the party, in fact, that asshole decided to break up with me, telling me that he never actually felt anything really important for me, and that I was merely a fling that lasted too long and that now he actually already has another girlfriend and I was just in the way. A year and a half. We stayed together a year and a half, and he had to say that and turn away without looking back, or without a bit of shame or guilt, he didn't even apologize to me for shamelessly cheating on me. Part of me didn't even want to come to the party, but I love Siri and Remmy too much to let them down, so I took heart and convinced myself that I would have a good time, but at Regulus' words, "Where's your boyfriend? Is he tired of you too?", I saw no more. Smoke began to come out of my ears, my vision turned black, and inside I felt only a single emotion.

I realize what I was doing only after James detaches me from Regulus, while Sirius grabs his brother, and pulls him away from me.

"Are you totally crazy? You could have killed me!" Says Regulus shocked as he holds a hand to his throat, still struggling to breathe.

"Too bad, it will be for next time then." I answer coldly, to go toward the hall to get my coat, while I quickly apologize to the hosts and say I have to go home, because I don't feel too well. Both James and Sirius, Remus and Lily try to stop me, thinking it's because of guilt, but I really don't want them to see me crying and having to explain later that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me and left me, and now I just feel like a pathetic little girl who can't be loved.

I hurry out of the house and immediately get hit by the cold autumn wind, which envelops me like a hug and shakes my hair, making it go over my face, thus tickling my nose. I smile and start walking toward my house, although it is quite far away, in fact I had come with my brother. I try to contain my emotions, but the tranquility and peace of the city at this hour give me enough security to let my tears flow freely down my cheeks. There is not a living soul to judge me, or so I thought.

I hear footsteps approaching behind me, someone is running toward me, so I turn around and see a breathless Regulus Black standing still, leaning on his knees and signaling to me to wait a second.

I try to wipe away my tears so that he can see that I was crying, but it is too late now, because his expression immediately changes and he seems confused by what he is seeing.

"I don't need your stupid excuses, go back to the others and tell them the bitch is not ready to be insulted by you again." I say trying to distract him as I turn and start walking faster, but a hand grabs my shoulder and makes me turn around.

"Are you crying?" Regulus asks, under his breath, as if even he does not believe the scene before him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are as sharp as Sherlock Holmes." I say trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he brings his second hand to my face, and wipes away a couple of tears that had reached my chin.

"If it's something I said, I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't want to come and apologize, they forced me, however, I never wanted to make you cry, I was just playing with you." He continues, not caring what I had said. He looks me straight in the eye and I see his sincerity, and I don't know why I start to cry more. He looks at me unsure of what to do, before hugging me. As we are squeezed in that hug I tell him the real reason I was crying and apologize to him for what I had done earlier at the party. As I finish my story, he pulls away from that hold and looks into my eyes again.

"Hey, he's the asshole, not you. And he's also stupid if he didn't see the magnificent person he had beside him." He tells me firmly and sweetly at the same time.

"Says the boy who has been insulting me since we were eleven years old." I reply sarcastically as I stare into his eyes, and I can't lie to myself. I've always thought Regulus is a handsome boy, but damn, right now he looks like a deity come down to earth to teach us what beauty is.

"Hey I may be an asshole, maybe even a little stupid, but it's not like I'm blind." He continues, smiling at me as he looks at my lips. "You know I think I found a more appropriate way to apologize." He whispers as he moves even closer to my lips.

My brain cannot process the moment, everything seems fuzzy. Its scent, fresh mint, coffee and cigarettes, intoxicates me like a drug, and I can't do anything but screw it up to do what my instinct tells me to do.

"Know that it will not be easy to make it up to you for everything you have done to me. You were very, very mean to me." I whisper before kissing him, tired of that game.

I feel like giving my first kiss for the second time. Our lips chase each other, eating each other, needing each other. I feel my hands run through his hair, while his rests on my hips and draws me to him in a death grip.

We continue kissing, and time seems to stop, even the dry leaves seem to stand still in the air, waiting for our future to be drawn, anxious to see our next move.

Eventually we part, to catch our breath, and a faint laugh escapes from my lips.

"Know that I hate you anyway." I tell him and he can't help but chuckle, before taking on a serious look.

"Would you like to come to my house. You know I'd like to apologize for good, and show you that you've had really bad taste in men so far." He says seductively in my ear.

"You have to be careful what you say Black, because it could backfire on you with this sentence." I reply, trying to hide the emotions it is stirring in me.

"No baby, I'm going to show you how a real man should treat you, and not the idiot you used to date." He continues, whispering on my lips, before leaving a light kiss, as light as a butterfly resting gracefully on a flower.

"Know that this does not take away from the fact that I hate you." I reply, still partly in trance after that kiss.

"This just means that I will have to work harder at apologizing." Regulus replies, before stepping back a little, and removing the scarf around his neck, to give it to me. I didn't even notice that I'm shaking, too engrossed in this moment.

"Come on, let's go to my place, it's not too far." Says the boy, putting an arm on my shoulder, thus blocking any possibility of my thinking with his intoxicating scent for the second time this evening. After a few minutes of walking we arrive in front of a dark door, for which young Black quickly pulls out the key to open it.

Once inside the house, I am amazed at how the entire apartment is furnished. Dark furniture stands out against the green and white walls. Soft lights illuminate the rooms, giving it a cozy atmosphere. Every item is meticulously placed in a studied spot, everything is perfect, every note played with the right pitch to create a wonderful harmony.

I am lost in looking around the room when I feel a pair of hands drawing me toward them.

One hand gently removes my scarf, while another turns me around. In Regulus' eyes I see pure pleasure, and this only creates an unpleasant wet feeling in my panties.... We look at each other for a second before pouncing on each other like hungry prey, moving slowly down the stairs and into the bedroom. He pulls me back until I touch the bed with my knees, then drops me down, pulling away from the kiss. I look at him and see his lips red and swollen as he struggles to catch his breath. His hair is messy from my fingers, yet he has never looked more beautiful to me than in this moment. I watch him slowly approach the button of my jeans like a fierce lion studying its prey, and then with a precise and quick gesture, unbutton my pants. In the blink of an eye these lie on the floor, tossed from some indefinite part of the room. The only thing now separating him from his goal is my underwear, but before he can take the next step, I gently place a foot on his chest and look seductively at him.

"Hold your horses Black, if you want to play with me you have to do it right. One garment each at a time, I lost my pants, now you have to take something off." I say looking at him carefully, and he chuckles at my words.

"You can be really obnoxious Potter, you know that?" He asks wryly as he removes his sweatshirt, revealing his bare chest, since he has no shirt underneath. For a moment I am breathless at that ethereal sight. Her white skin glows in the moonlight entering the room. His physique is muscular but not overly so, I can tell he works out a lot and holds himself, but it's also not excessive. I get flashbacks of seeing him practicing Quidditch at Hogwarts shirtless with sweaty hair in the wind, and immediately I find myself having to make the physical effort to not cum in that same instant.

"I try my best." I respond seductively as I watch him lower himself, going on his knees, getting to be at the same level as my pussy.

"Now if you don't mind, I have a promise to keep: to prove that your asshole ex is nothing compared to me." He says before pouncing on me as if I were a feast. I don't have time to respond because he immediately starts kissing my inner thigh, both from the right and the left until he reaches his booty. Slowly, with his teeth, he grabs my panties, leaving a few wet kisses on my skin and making me shiver, and slowly he slides them all the way down my legs.

It is the most terrible, nerve-wracking, and sexy torture I have ever had to endure.

"I thought you were supposed to make it up to me Black, not make me madder." I say in a voice little louder than a sigh as I feel his hot breath on the center of my pleasure.

"Oh baby, I still have to start apologizing, and get ready because I want to do it right." He says, as he caresses the most intimate part of me with his lips. A second later, pure pleasure invades my every sense as he begins to kiss the lips of my pussy. I feel his tongue caressing me, as my hands wriggle in his hair, drawing him ever closer to the center of my pleasure, and with my eyes around his name like a song, between moans and expletives. I hear him smile at my reaction, and just as I was about to respond rudely to him, he increases my torture by adding a finger, taking it in and out of my opening. A few minutes thus pass, me hovering on the edge of pleasure, just as he looks up and shifts slightly. His mouth is completely wet from my pleasure, while I curse for the missed orgasm.

"You'd better finish what you started Black, because I swear that on the contrary you can distantly forget any chance of me being more generous to you." I say, trying to catch my breath.

"I was just catching my breath for the grand finale." He replies with a small smile, seeing my desperation.

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think that's what we're doing baby. What, I'm too good and you're not used to feeling so much pleasure?" He says smiling again as again, he turns me around kissing my entire thigh.

"By Merlin, how I hate you Black." I gasp, between groans.

"Try to convince yourself of this all you want honey, but we both know that right now your orgasms depend on me." And with that he begins his feast again, with more eagerness, and again, in a few minutes I am again on the brink of absolute pleasure, but this time I manage to go further, and for a moment I feel like I can touch the sky with my finger. I feel the blankets tighten between my fingers as I moan his name, almost screaming it, as if I want the world to know who was responsible for so much pleasure.

A few seconds pass, as I try to regain possession of my body and mind, before he speaks again.

"Fuck, that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He says giggling, before starting to kiss my body again, slowly, savoring every inch. He pulls off my shirt, as I now recovered from all that unexpected pleasure, taking off my bra. I see him staring at my breasts, before teasing my nipples, one with his tongue and one with his fingers. He bites, sucking my breasts, leaving signs of his passage as I try not to lose myself again in that spiral of pleasure.

"Damn, you don't know how long I've wanted to touch them, taste them, mark them as my own." He says in a gasp, before switching nipples and moving on to the other. Meanwhile then I try to distract him by opening his pants, but as soon as I try to touch his dick, he stops and moves my hand away, looking me straight in the eye.

"Tonight is just for you, not for me, now let me continue and make you feel like the goddess you are." At her words I can't help but hold back a sigh of pleasure.

"Now I understand why everyone was falling at your feet in school, you really have a gift for talking to girls." I say, as I feel his lips go up my neck, leaving me biting and hickeys as he passes.

"Too bad the one girl I really wanted did nothing but blow me off and tell me she hated me." She tells me, before kissing me passionately. Somehow I can still taste myself on his lips, or rather in his mouth, as we explore every nook and cranny of it with our tongues.

"Maybe he was telling you that he hated you, because all he could do was wish to fuck you in the broom closet." I answer between kisses as I hear him take off his underpants and pull down his underwear.

For the first time I realize perhaps truly the situation I am in. Our naked bodies, rubbing against each other, dancing a love dance of their own, as we struggle against each other to win.

He chuckles at my words as he moves to kiss me along my arm, while using his hand to reach over to the nightstand to grab a condom and put it on as he counters.

"And I would rather tell you that I hated you than confess that every night I dreamed of fucking you against a wall." He pauses for a moment, and smiles at me before continuing, with that obnoxious grin of his. "Although I would have said you were more of a quickie in the bathroom type."

"It happened only once, and with a Ravenclaw prick who had already done half my year, while I was half-drunk at a party, after watching you stick your tongue half a foot down the throat of a Hufflepuff slut." I confess by looking into his eyes, and I notice that amidst the pleasure now also shines a spark of astonishment. "Now get a move on, though, Black, for now you're all talk and no action." I continue, with an amused little smile.

"Merlin, if you say one more word, I swear I'll plug your mouth with your panties." He says, taking his dick in his hand, aligning it with my entrance.

"Oh you just have to try, assh- Oh my god!" I try to respond, but he blocks me by entering me overbearingly, immediately I feel my body almost leave the earthly world for pleasure. His dick is bigger than I would have expected, and certainly bigger than my ex's. Immediately he seems to touch all the places that give me the most pleasure, and my mind cannot process a concrete thought.

"I hate you Black." This is the only thing I can say as he is still still inside me, making me get used to his size. "I don't think I can do without your dick from now on, and this is all your fault." I continue as he tries to move slowly, in and out of me, as he murmurs a few dirty words under his breath.

"Oh you are adorable baby." He says before kissing my neck again as he increases the force and speed of his thrusts. "But if you really think I would let you go after this time you are crazy. I hate you too you know, I hate the fact that I am now addicted to this tight, hot, wet pussy of yours. Fuck I think I've found heaven." He gasps near my ear. We continue this dance like this, until a few minutes later, we are almost at the height of pleasure.

"Please Reg, don't stop. I'm cumming:" I plead with him, before stifling my continued moans of pleasure, leaving kisses, bites and hickeys on his neck as my hands scratch his muscular back. I feel him stiffen at my touch.

"Me too baby." He gasps, then increases the speed. A few thrusts, and we both reach orgasm.

We remain still for a moment, enjoying that feeling of pleasure and the warmth of the closeness of our bodies. We don't say a word, let silence fill the space between us, before we kiss again.

This time the kiss is different, not passionate and oozing sex like the others, it is more gentle and sweet, as if through that contact we want to express all those repressed feelings kept inside us all these years and that we cannot describe in words.

He moves from on top of me and lies on his side, while still keeping his arms around my waist. I slowly feel fatigue take possession of me as he gets out of bed to head for the bathroom and get a towel with which my private parts, now too sensitive, in fact a shiver runs down my spine and he seeing it apologizes to me.

When he is finished he lies down again beside me and hugs me, making me feel warm and safe. Just before I fall asleep I look into his eyes and manage to say something.

"You're on the right path to forgiveness, but maybe you need to try a little harder." And he can't help but laugh at those words. "I don't hate you that much anyway, I guess." I continue, as I snuggle against his chest.

"Fortunately." He replies. "Because I don't hate you at all, maybe just the opposite I dare say. "

The next morning I wake up after him. Regulus is already out of bed. He is wearing a pair of sweatpants, and he is shirtless. I can tell right away that he has just gotten out of the shower because I can see his wet hair, however, I can hear him talking to someone on the phone. Feeling my eyes on him he turns and sees that I am awake, and he smiles at me.

"Yes Sirius, I promise I didn't say anything stupid." He says with a bored look on his face as he watches me sit up in bed, my hair still tousled from sleep.

"I apologized, very deeply last night, but I may have to do it one more time to make sure you understand what I meant." She continues to talk to her brother as she gives me a wink and immediately I feel my cheeks go hot from what she said.

"Yes, yes. I love you too. Bye Siri, see you later." He greets his brother as he turns around and then sets the phone down on one of the pieces of furniture next to him, and there I realize all the marks I left on him last night. In the night we then woke up and made love a couple more times. Just thinking about it I feel my pussy getting all wet, even just remembering all that happened.

"I was going to make you breakfast before you woke up but since you are already awake I would suggest you take a shower while I make you breakfast. Is that okay with you?" He asks me, and I can't find my voice to answer him, so I smile and nod. He smiles back, leaving me a kiss on my forehead and then goes downstairs to cook.

I stay in bed for a second and letting out a sigh I realize perhaps for the first time that I hated Regulus Black so much, that I ended up falling in love with him, since the line is so thin that for a long time you can think you are hovering between the two, and only when you land do you realize that you slipped into one of the two worlds long before.

BONUS

Remus watches Sirius talk to his brother on the phone as he asks him if he finally apologized to little Potter. Once the call is over Sirius puts the phone down and looks at his boyfriend.

"They fucked." Remus says, before sipping coffee from his favorite mug.

"They got laid." Sirius confirms, laughing, while Lily, who had stayed over with her boyfriend James, sighs with relief.

"Finally, the situation was becoming unbearable. By now all you could do every time was expect them to jump at each other's throats with a knife or fuck in the guest bathroom." Lily says as she looks at James, who has a horrified look on his face.

"Hey, we're still talking about my little sister!" He says, looking at his friends and his girlfriend.

"Look at it this way, at least now we're really brothers." Try proposing Sirius.

"And probably uncles, too." Remus and Lily say in unison.

No one can hold back a laugh seeing James' horrified face.

TAGLIST (Kinktober special)

@samanddeansannoyingsis @forsiriussake @thedogisontopofyhecarmom @estrellademiel @ohemgeewhat @kidsaproblem @camelliaflow3r @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @morganalatina21 @nightfiress @shodowbane09 @theyluvtrinity21 @supernatural-lvr

[smileysuh]

Sunday Sinner

🌙 staring. Mark & Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in Church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

tw/cw. threesomes, inexperienced!Mark, fingering, blow jobs, deep throating, pussy eating, spit roasting, voyeurism, lots of masturbation (especially in the shower), Hyuck has a dirty mouth, sin sin sin, unprotected sex, creampies, cum play, kink for being 'full', religious contention, Mark gets hard during Sunday Service, Mark getting outed as low key virgin, proposition, Mark uses a cross necklace in sinful ways, praise, slight degradation, inklings of corruption kink, squirting, etc… I pet names: (hers) angel. (Mark's) church boy.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 12.6k

🍭 aus.frat/uni au, soccer player au, church/inexperienced!Mark, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I've wanted to do a fic about Mark being Christain for a while, but I wanted to make one that was still respectful. This idea popped into my head, and I think it turned out really well :) it's only slight blasphemy.

There’s nothing like a frat party after a big win for the university soccer team. Even though Mark doesn’t really drink, and he’s never smoked a joint in his entire life, it’s nice to be surrounded by happy energy. 

His team always laughs at him when he notes how celebrations can feel almost church-like, but the indescribable buzz that fills the entire frat is familiar to the man who’s been going to Sunday Services his entire life. 

Mark likes seeing familiar faces, and if he hadn’t been raised in a very big family type of system, he’s not so sure he’d be this okay with crowds, or the number of people who reach out to pat him on the shoulder and shake his hand in congratulations for scoring the winning goal.

It had been a great game, and when Mark’s ball had sunk into the top left corner of the net, he’d run to the side lines to fall to his knees and make the sign of the cross, grabbing at the religious pendant around his neck to kiss it. People have always made fun of him for this tradition of his, but nothing will ever stop him from thanking God - his God - for the fortune life has brought him.

Even now, the necklace is securely around his throat, the cross resting just below his shirt. The cool metal brushes by his skin when he moves through the frat house, a constant reminder of his faith. 

Something is drawing him outside, and Mark has always been someone who leans into the feelings he can’t put his finger on. It’s something like divine guidance, and Mark exits the frat to step onto the back patio, where his friends are in a circle around a fire. 

It smells like weed, something Mark hadn’t liked at first, but it’s now a scent he’s used to, and he heads over to stand next to his roommate. 

Lee Donghyuck and Mark have been friends since high school, where a few ‘less woke’ teachers had assumed - because of their shared last name - that two were cousins, or something of the sort. They’d always been put in group projects together. At first, Hyuck had been too much for Mark to handle, but over the years, he’s come to like the chaotic energy of his closest friend, despite all their differences, mainly, their disagreements on religion.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” Hyuck bellows, throwing his arm around Mark to pull him tight to his hoodie covered side, which reeks of marijuana. 

“Church boy Mark!” Yuta grins from across the circle, raising his beer in a mock toast to the man who had won them their soccer game. 

“Can he even be here?” a bitchy foreign exchange student from Thailand asks, earning a shove from Mark’s frat ‘big’ Johnny.

“Of course he can be here,” the man from Chicago laughs.

“I just mean-” Ten is quick to correct himself, “we’re playing Never Have I Ever. Are we sure this is suitable for him?”

“Mark plays games,” Hyuck insists, but Mark’s not so sure about this one. 

“He doesn’t even have a drink,” Ten notes, looking Mark up and down.

“Someone get him something,” Hyuck says, snapping his fingers at one of their pledges. “One of the iced tea mixes, the low percent ones-”

“Hyuck-” Mark sighs.

“Trust me,” Hyuck assures him, “you hardly do anything with your life, it’s not like you’ll have to drink that much.”

Mark still doesn’t feel too enthused about joining the game, but he supposes his heart led him out here for one reason or another, so he accepts the hard iced tea can Jisung hands him. His eyes immediately scan it for the alcohol content, and he sighs. “This is the same as beer.”

“Come on, church boy,” Hyuck groans. “You’ll only have like three sips, max. Watch-” without waiting for Mark to agree, Hyuck is addressing the circle again. “Never have I ever sucked cock.” 

The girls in the vicinity all make sounds of annoyance, raising their drinks to their lips. In the periphery, Yuta also sips his beer, and after a moment and a groan, so does Ten. 

“See!?” Hyuck squeezes Mark’s shoulder. “You’re already zero for one.”

“That was a low blow, Hyuck,” your voice draws Mark’s attention. You’re standing on the other side of his best friend, which shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, seeing as you’re Hyuck’s fuck buddy. 

Mark takes a moment to assess you while Hyuck rolls his eyes and defends himself. The church goer has always thought you were pretty, and you’re smart too, much too smart for the crazy gemini he has as a roommate. 

“Two can play that game,” you warn, raising your voice to announce, “Never have I ever eaten pussy.”

Mark’s skin prickles, panic washing over him as every man around the fire - and even a few girls - drink. The church boy can feel his grip on his can shaking slightly, and for a brief moment he considers having a swig of the hard iced tea just to protect himself, but, well… it would be a lie. And if there’s one thing Mark Lee doesn’t do, it’s lie. 

Mark can feel eyes on him as he downcasts his gaze to the ground. His skin is heating with embarrassment, and he just prays to God no one makes a big deal out of this-

“You’ve never eaten pussy?” Jeno yells, and Mark just knows the question is directed at him. 

He looks up, lips parting at the shock of being put on the spot. 

“Wait, you guys haven’t heard the church camp story?” Hyuck asks, and now Mark’s really panicking. But it’s too late to stop his loose lipped roomie, who is already diving into Mark’s past for the whole circle to hear. “This one time, he fucked a girl at church camp, and a Jesus picture fell off the wall, so he hasn’t even touched a girl since then.” 

A few people laugh, and while Mark can understand that - objectively - they’re not laughing at him, but at the story, he can’t help but get defensive.

“It fell off the wall, Hyuck,” Mark insists, voice shaking. “How else do you explain that?”

“I’ve always thought you were just banging that girl too hard,” Hyuck suggests, earning a few sounds of agreement from other frat boys. 

But Hyuck wasn’t there when it had happened, and Mark knows for a fact there was no true bed rocking going on. He’d been taking things slow, and the only possible explanation for the picture falling - in his mind at least - is that he’d disappointed God. 

He’d done a hundred Hail Mary’s as repentance, and now that his secret has been put out where everyone can hear, he thinks maybe he should do fifty more for good measure.

“I’ve gotta go,” Mark mumbles, handing Hyuck his drink.

Mark’s roommate tries to stop him from scurrying away, but the damage has been done, and the man who scored the winning goal at the soccer game rushes back into the frat house with red ears that betray his shame.

“You can’t still be mad at me,” Hyuck whines, chasing after you as you exit the frat bathroom.

“Why do you assume I’m mad at you?”

“Because I followed you to the toilet and you didn’t wanna smash?” Your fuck buddy manages to pin you to the wall, hands on either side of your head while he looks at you with serious eyes, a contrast to the sentence that’s just come out of his mouth.

“Sometimes a girl’s just gotta pee, Hyuck,” you laugh.

“Don’t play games, angel,” he insists. “You’re mad about the Mark thing.”

“So you admit I have something to be mad about.”

Hyuck lets out a sigh. “Fine, yes.” He pulls away from you, throwing up a hand in defeat. “I shouldn’t have told everyone his stupid Jesus picture story. There, I said I’m sorry, are you happy now?”

“You said what?”

He groans, and in one motion, he’s pinning you to the wall again, his lips just millimeters away from yours. When he speaks, his voice is low, and his eyes drill into your own, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment, you say softly, “I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to.”

“You want me to apologize to Mark?!” 

“Among other things.”

Hyuck pulls away, looking you up and down. “You better not be suggesting what I think your horny ass is suggesting.”

“I don’t know,” you smirk. “What do you think I’m thinking?”

“It looks like you’re thinking about going upstairs to offer Mark help with getting over his Jesus sex fear.”

“And that would upset you?” You cock your head to the side, assessing your fuck buddy.

“Angel,” he groans, “you’re mine.” 

“Am I though?” you counter. “Am I really?”

When you’d started sleeping with Hyuck, he’d made it clear that he’s not the kind of guy who likes to be tied down to one person. While he can be somewhat possessive, part of your arrangement is that you can both do what you want, and right now, you’re seriously considering fucking the sweet church boy you’ve had a slight infatuation with since year one.

“Fuck the fact that you’re not my girlfriend,” Hyuck says finally. “There are bigger reasons you shouldn’t do this.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well for one,” your fuck buddy leans in, his lips ghosting by your ear as he whispers, “Mark has a massive crush on you.”

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. Leave it to Hyuck to spill two of Mark’s biggest secrets in the span of one hour. 

“If Mark has a crush on me, then I have to do this. You can either join us, or go cry about it.”

Hyuck sighs. “For an angel, you can be a bit of a fucking demon sometimes.”

“And you love it.” 

You and Hyuck are standing outside his bedroom. The door is locked when you try to open it, and Hyuck watches you let out a deep sigh before knocking. “Mark? You in there?”

“Of course he’s in there,” Hyuck whispers, rolling his eyes.

“Shh! Be nice!” you chastise him, playfully smacking his arm. Your voice is soft when you call out again, knocking gently a few more times. “Mark? Please let me in.”

The music from downstairs is too loud for Hyuck to hear movement in his room, but after a few moments, the door opens and Mark peers out.

“Oh, it’s both of you.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mark,” Hyuck nearly laughs, placing his palm on the wood so he can force it open before his friend tries to shut the door again. “I live here too, you know.”

“How could I forget,” Mark sighs, heading over to flop onto his bed.

You and Hyuck enter the room, and he clicks the lock back into place behind him. He watches you approach his friend, sitting on the foot of the mattress. 

When you reach out, ghosting your hand over Mark’s shin, Hyuck leans back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. He wouldn’t define himself as a jealous type of guy, but watching you be gentle with Mark is definitely bringing up some suppressed emotions, and Hyuck’s not sure what to make of it.

“Mark,” you stroke his leg. “Hyuck has something to say to you.”

“Huh?!” Hyuck’s eyes widen, and he looks between you and his roommate. 

You’re going to make him proposition his friend for you? 

“Yeah, didn’t you tell me you wanted to apologize?” There’s a warning tone in your voice, and when you look over your shoulder at Hyuck, you give him an expression filled with expectation.

“Right,” Hyuck coughs. “I uh… I’m sorry for what happened at the fire.”

He can tell by your small eye roll that you’re not fully satisfied with his apology, but Mark doesn’t seem to mind. The church boy sighs, running a hand over his face. “It’s okay,” he mumbles.

“It’s not okay,” you insist, turning your gaze back to Mark. “I’m also sorry for saying never have I ever eaten pussy. I was trying to attack Hyuck and make him drink, but you got caught in the crossfire.” 

“You didn’t mean to, though,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have joined the game. This is a lesson for me, I guess.”

“Aw, Mark,” Hyuck can’t see your face, but he knows you’re frowning. “We wanted you to join the game. We like it when you do things with us.” 

It’s interesting for Hyuck to hear you saying the royal ‘we,’ as if you’re a couple, a unit. 

“I’m sure the incident with the Jesus picture was very traumatizing for you,” you continue, sounding as genuine as ever while your hand continues to smooth up and down Mark’s leg. “I can understand why you’d be… apprehensive about doing anything sexual after that.”

Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. Hyuck can’t help but smile when he sees his friend’s ears flaring red with embarrassment, it’s always so easy to get the church boy riled up.

“I just want you to know…” you shift a little where you’re seated, moving closer to Hyuck’s roommate, “this is a safe space. If you ever wanted to… try something like that again, there aren’t any Jesus pictures here to knock down.”

“What?” Mark’s lips part with shock, and he looks between you and Hyuck. “Are you two…”

“Propositioning you?” Hyuck suggests. “Yeah, she is.” 

“I’m not-” Mark swallows thickly. “I don’t want your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you assure him. 

“She wants to fuck you, Mark,” Hyuck says, trying to be helpful. “It will be good for you.”

“Good for me?” Mark squeaks.

“You’re a frat boy who’s practically a virgin, dude,” Hyuck nearly laughs. “You’ve gotta dip your dick in the sinful water sometime. What’s life without eating a little pussy?”

“Oh my god,” Mark groans, covering his face with his hands. 

“It’s not that bad, Jesus won’t mind, you don’t even have to put your dick in her!” Hyuck can’t believe he’s the one backing this now, but he also can’t really believe his roommate is a near-virgin. 

“This can’t be happening-” Mark is still hiding his face, his ears as scarlet as ever.

“Listen, “ Hyuck sighs, “we usually fuck while you’re at church on Sundays. But if you wanted, we could wait a little and let you join after your service tomorrow.”

Mark’s eyes widen. “After my service? Are you two crazy?” 

“You don’t have to decide right now,” you assure him. “I’m sure this is a lot to take in, especially after the day you had. I don’t think I’ve congratulated you on your goal in the game today yet-”

Hyuck scoffs at how you could be bringing that up right now.

“Just think about it,” you continue, giving Mark’s thigh a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to go home now, but, tomorrow, if you want to try eating pussy, Hyuck and I will be here.”

Hyuck wonders what would happen if it was just you propositioning Mark. If he’d be more willing to agree. It’s definitely an added level of sin to have Hyuck in the room while Mark rips his virgin bandaid off, but it’s not like Hyuck’s going to leave Mark alone with you.

You’re his angel, even if you’re looking to save Mark.

Mark can’t pay attention to the sermon. His palms are sweaty, no matter how many times he rubs them against his pants. He feels like - at any moment - a big Jesus statue could just fall over and everyone in the church would turn to him, knowing he was the cause due to his sinful thoughts.

What makes it worse, is the way he can feel blood rushing to his cock. He’s half hard at the Sunday service, and he’s never felt like a worse Christain. 

This experience definitely trumps the losing of his virginity, if that’s even possible, and he hasn’t even done anything with you yet.

But in the dark, back corners of his mind, Mark knows that will change. He knows he won’t be able to resist you, you’re just too tempting. He doesn’t have that kind of control over himself, no matter how much he wishes he did.

When the service is over, Mark stands on shaky legs, grabbing a Bible to hold in front of his crotch while he exits the place of worship to head back to the frat. 

The fresh air does little to calm his nerves. If anything, the closer he gets to his home, the more sinful he feels. He knows each step is one step closer to you, one step closer to religious paraphenia being miraculously moved by the hand of God- 

Yet, he can’t stop. He can’t even alter his course, and when he reaches the frat, he doesn’t say one word to the boys kicking around in the kitchen, he heads straight up to his room. 

When he gets to his door, Mark pauses. His hands are shaky as he reaches for the knob, and for a second, he wonders if he should knock. Taking a deep breath, Mark decides to ignore his manners, pushing into the room.

He’s almost relieved to find you and Hyuck sitting in his bed, fully clothed, watching something on Netflix. 

“Hiya, Mark,” Hyuck waves, as if their relationship isn’t about to be completely altered.

“How was Sunday service?” you ask.

“How was it?” Mark shuts the door behind himself, giving his head a little shake as he hurries over to the closet to discard his jacket. “You know, good.”

“Why are you carrying a Bible?” Hyuck asks, looking him up and down. “Did you steal that from your church?”

Panic shoots through Mark. He had most definitely accidentally stolen it from his church, wihtout giving it a second thought. His mind had been so focused on you and covering his boner- 

“I can give it back,” Mark insists, palms sweating again as he places the book gently on top of his backpack. 

“You look spooked, dude. Did some pastor try to touch you?” 

“Hyuck!” you practically scream, slapping your hand over your fuck buddy’s mouth. “You can’t say things like that!”

Hyuck mumbles something against your hand that sounds like ‘historically accurate,’ and Mark wants to strangle him. 

“You want to know why I look stressed?” Mark sighs. “Because you two are sinners who propositioned me last night!”

Hyuck moves your hand from his mouth, smirking. “Come on, Mark, be sinners with us!”

“This is not helping,” you whisper to your fuck buddy, gently pushing his shoulder before you stand from the bed, approaching Mark with an empathetic expression. “I’m sorry about last night, we shouldn’t have pushed that on you.”

“It’s okay,” Mark shakes his head, refusing to meet your gaze.

“It’s not, we’re horrible, dirty, sinful people,” you reach out, linking your pinkie with Mark’s. It’s a small gesture, but it speaks volumes. “Forget we ever said anything.”

“I can’t forget,” Mark states, finally looking at you. He licks his lips, thinking of something else to say, but all that comes out is “I can’t forget,” and it’s the truth. 

You open your mouth, and Mark hangs on what your next words will be-

Hyuck interrupts the moment. “So are you gonna eat pussy or what?”

“Hyuck!” you yell, turning to flash a warning glare at the man who’s giggling to himself on his bed. 

Mark doesn’t even want to focus on his friend right now. Instead, he reaches out, taking your other hand gently. He gazes down at your fingers, too scared to look at your face. 

“I think…” Mark swallows the lump in his throat. “I think we should do this.”

“Really?” you ask while Hyuck lets out a loud “What?!”

“You’re both right… maybe it will be good for me.” Mark can’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. “But- I’m not sure what I’m even ready for.”

“We can go slow,” you assure him, squeezing his hand. “Anything you’re comfortable with.”

Mark looks up at you. “Can I… can I kiss you?”

Hyuck scoffs loudly, but it’s an afterthought in Mark’s mind when you nod, reaching up to cup his face. “You can kiss me,” you tell him softly. 

Mark’s free hand reaches out to grab your waist, and he moves closer. He can feel your breath on his face. He’s never been this up close and personal with you, and you’ve never been prettier. There’s a softness in your expression, an acceptance, and it makes Mark feel confident enough to press his lips to yours.

It’s a gentle kiss - a perfect kiss - and Mark can feel the tension releasing in his shoulders. 

You step even closer, and your breasts press against his chest, your arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Your tongue smooths over his bottom lip and Mark stifles a groan, opening his mouth just enough for his own tongue to meet yours. 

He can count the number of girls he’s kissed during his life on one hand, including you, but none of them have happened like this. Mark had never imagined he’d end up in this situation before, and despite the calming effect you have on him, he still finds himself pulling away and struggling to catch his breath.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, in fact, he’s been thinking about it all day. 

“Yeah?” There’s a sparkle in your eye and you smile at him. “Where?”

Mark can’t bring himself to say it.

You gently take his hand, bringing it to your throat. “Here?” you ask, and Mark traces his thumb over your jugular, surprised to find your heart is racing just as fast as his own. “Or…” you move his hand down, his palm cupping at your breast, “Here?” 

Mark lets out a low groan at the feeling of you. He’s touched even less boobs than he’s kissed girls in his life, and yours are absolutely perfect in his hand. 

“Mark,” you whimper, and he brushes his fingers over your pebbled nipple, peaking through your shirt. He can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, and he shifts uncomfortably. 

“Or maybe…” you move his hand lower, dragging it across your stomach until it reaches your pussy through your sweatpants, “were you thinking of touching me here?” 

He nods, still unable to speak as you guide him to apply more pressure to your core. You feel so warm, and a sinful voice in the back of his mind tells him you’re probably wet too. Or at least, he hopes you’re wet, hopes he has the same effect on you that you have on him.

You let out a soft moan, and it’s like music to his ears. You grind down slightly on his hand, wiggling your hips in a motion that’s hypnotizing. “Do you want to…” you bite at your lip, toying with the waistband of your sweats. “Do you want to put your hand inside?”

“God, yes,” Mark groans, finally finding his voice.

You pull the waistband away from your skin, giving Mark access to slip his hand below it. Then your lips find his again, your arms wrapping around his shoulders while he teases his fingers along your panty clad core.

You’re as wet as he’d hoped you would be, and Mark moans at the realization. 

He’s only watched porn a handful of times in his life, and always felt bad about it after, but he knows where the clit is, and he gently circles his fingers around the spot.

You gasp into his mouth, and Mark eats up the sound, applying more pressure.

“Fuck, Mark, just like that-” you tell him, threading your fingers through his hair as you deepen the kiss.

You rut your hips, grinding down on his hand, and it drives Mark wild. He wants to touch you, really touch you, without any fabric in the way, and when he opens his mouth to ask, “Can I-” you’re agreeing without even hearing the end of the sentence.

He takes a breath, and then he moves your panties to the side. 

The first swipe of his fingers through your pussy lips feels like nothing he’s ever felt before, and the wetness he collects against his skin makes his cock throb again.

He teases your opening, earning more gasps from you as your lips move to his neck. When your mouth makes contact on a spot just below his ear, a shiver runs through Mark’s entire body. He’s heard about sweet spots, but no one has ever kissed his, and the feeling has his eyes closing with pleasure.

Without a second though, Mark slides a finger into your pussy, and you mewl in his ear, holding him tighter. “So good,” you whisper as he slowly thrusts the digit in and out of you, building the confidence to add another. 

You're grinding down against him still, and his palm works your clit while his two fingers curl inside of you. The sounds you’re making are increasing in pitch and frequency, and you’re gently pulling on his hair, licking at the spot on his neck that has his body tingling. 

He’s never made a girl cum before, but he can tell by the way you’re reacting, that he’s going to get you there. He wants to get you there, more than he’s wanted any goal he’s ever scored in a soccer game. 

The cool weight of the cross around his neck has Mark wondering if he’s going to go to hell for this. But can he really go to hell for something that feels this good? This right?

“I’m close,” you tell him. “Don’t stop.” 

Mark works his fingers into you even faster, eager to have you coming undone on his hand-

A clinking sound in the periphery makes Mark’s eyes open, and when he looks over at Hyuck’s bed, he sees his friend wiggling out of his pants.

“Dude, what the Hell-” Mark freezes, making an attempt to pull his hand from your pants, but you latch onto his wrist, shaking your head.

“No, Mark, please, I’m so close, please-” There’s a look of desperation in your eye, and it has him swallowing thickly, focusing on you while he picks up his motions again.

“I’ll wait,” Hyuck says in the background, and there’s some comfort in that at least.

“Mark, it feels so good, you’re so good at this-” you praise him, whispering in his ear while you work your hips faster against his hand.

“Oh God-” Mark groans, watching your face contort with pleasure. 

“There’s no God here, dude,” comes Hyuck’s snarky voice.

Mark’s eyes begin to shift to his friend, but you cup his face, forcing him to look at you. “Focus on me,” you tell him. “Like I’m focused on you.” 

He swallows thickly, breathing deeply as he fingers you harder, earning all sorts of sinful moans that drown out anything Hyuck could ever bring to the situation.

“Yes, Mark, yes- I’m gonna-” You’re gasping now, and you can’t even finish your sentence. Your pussy clenches around Mark’s fingers, your lips finding his as you cum. 

He continues his motions, wanting to draw out every second of pleasure that he can-

Mark has heard all sorts of ideas about what Heaven could look like, but he’s never heard that Heaven could be standing in your frat house room, hand down your best friend’s fuck buddy’s pants, with her pussy throbbing around your fingers. 

You begin to shake, reaching down to grab at his forearm, and Mark knows you’re finished. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and he pulls his hand away, marveling at the slick that’s covering his digits.

“Here,” you say gently, grabbing his wrist to guide his fingers to your mouth, licking them clean. Then you reach for him, bringing your mouth close to his own. “Taste me.”

Mark’s never kissed a girl so fast in his life, and he groans at the flavour of your tongue. If this is what your pussy tastes like, Mark had missed out by passing up the opportunity to eat you out, but at the same time, he’s really not sure if he’s ready for that yet.

“Okay, you two,” Hyuck’s voice makes Mark draw back from you. “This is enough teasing, I’ve gotta fuck something now or I’m gonna explode. Mark, are you staying?”

The church boy swallows thickly and then he shakes his head. If he’s not ready to eat you out, he’s definitely not ready to watch his best friend fuck you. “I’ve gotta…” he stumbles for an excuse. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Right, shower,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “Have fun with that.”

You go in for one last kiss before Hyuck is pulling you away from Mark, and he watches for just a moment while Hyuck presses his own mouth against yours-

Mark tears his eyes away, reaching for a towel in his closet before escaping the room.

The towel covers his boner while he runs down the hallway to the bathroom, and he strips himself naked in record time, stepping into a shower stall.

His hand is around his throbbing cock not two seconds later, and Mark throws his head back, closing his eyes while his brain struggles to process everything that’s just transpired. 

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to the edge. His toes curl against the vinyl floor, and his vision goes practically black as he cums. 

There’s no time to aim, and Mark feels sticky warm fluid coat his chest, but his hand doesn’t stop. He jacks himself off until he’s a nearly overstimulated, gasping mess, and he thanks God for the water cleaning his body of the sinful filth.

He’s never cum this hard in his entire life.

You’re at your usual Wednesday lunch with the girls before class when you notice one of your friend’s looking at something over your shoulder. She’s done this a few times now, but when you turn in your seat to assess the room, you don’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you looking at someone?” you question.

“It’s just…” Hyuna leans forward. “Did you do something to Mark?”

“What?” you look behind you again, thoroughly confused.

“Every time you turn, he pulls his baseball cap down,” she explains. “He’s over there, by the window. Green cap.”

When you scan the area again, you do notice a pair of cute red ears sticking out from a baseball cap, the guy’s head downcast as if he’s just staring at his french fries.

“How many times has he looked over here?” you ask, grinning.

“Like, a lot.” Hyuna cocks her head. “You did do something to Mark.”

You stand up, leaning forward. “Actually, he did something to me.” With a wink to your girls, you turn to head off toward Mark’s table.

He looks up once during your approach, and you see him scrambling with his bag. It would be very entertaining to watch him run away from you again, but he doesn’t have the chance, as you arrive before he’s done shoving papers into his binder. 

“Hey, you.” You take the seat across from him. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” His voice is shaky, and you find it adorable. 

“You know…” you reach your foot out under the table, grazing it by his calf. “I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Mark coughs, adjusting the cap on his head. “What?” 

“I said, I can’t get you out of my head either.” You’re enjoying the effect you have on him, and you’re very aware of how public the space is. You don’t think Mark’s going to confirm that he’s been thinking about you, so instead, you ask, “Are you planning to go to church on Sunday?”

“Yeah, of course,” he swallows thickly. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to pay attention while you’re there?” 

“I uh, I-” Mark stutters over his words. “I think so?”

You study the pretty virginal frat boy. As soft as you’ve been with him so far, you feel like teasing him, just to see how he reacts. “Just so you know, if, while you’re at Sunday service, a Jesus picture falls down, it’s because Jesus knows what you did.”

Mark lets out a groan, and you see his neck has turned red now too. “I-” Mark’s gaze dips down to your breasts, which are pushed together in your low neckline shirt as you lean forward. “I have to go-” he grabs his things, fumbling with all of them while he stands abruptly. 

The loud sound of his chair scraping across the ground draws a few eyes, and the pool boy nearly knocks the table over in his haste. You notice the way he immediately holds his binder over his crotch, and you lick your lips while looking up at him.

“See you later,” he mumbles, running away.

You watch him enter the men’s bathroom, and you think you can imagine what he’s going in there to do. Last time he’d run away from you, Hyuck had mentioned he was probably going to jack off in the showers.

The frat bathroom is one thing for a quick wank, but a public restroom is another.

You shake your head, walking back to your girls table, Mark’s tray of fries in your hand. They’re all gawking at you. 

“Damn,” Hyuna whistles. “I know you just said he did things to you, but girl, you definitely did a number on that church boy.” 

There’s nothing Hyuck loves more in the world than making you cum on his cock. He loves the noises you make, gripping at his bed sheets as your orgasm overtakes you. He loves being the source of your high.

What he doesn’t love however, is the way that today, you immediately ask, “How’s Mark doing?” as Hyuck pulls out of you.

He can’t help but laugh slightly, shaking his head at you. “Been acting weird all week.��� 

“Do you think he’s going to join us tomorrow after church? I’m kind of shocked he wasn’t here today, if I’m being honest.”

“Is that why you came over? Wanted to see your precious little Mark?” Hyuck lands a smack to your inner thigh that has you giggling. “And yeah. He’ll probably join tomorrow. Jeno says he’s walked in on Mark jacking off in the shower like, four times this week. It’s actually starting to be a bit of a problem.”

“Is frat boys jacking off in the shower not a common occurrence around here?”

“It is, but not when it’s Mark,” Hyuck laughs. “That guy needs to get fucked.”

“I’m not sure he’s ready for that yet.” 

Hyuck studies you. “What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Well, maybe he just needs to cum properly.”

You sit up, teasing your hands over Hyuck’s thighs. “Tell me, how does a guy ‘cum properly.’”

“Buried inside something nice, and wet, and warm,” Hyuck reaches out to grasp your chin. “Your mouth would work.”

You laugh at the idea, “Maybe if he lets me,” and Hyuck grins, getting off the bed to pull on his pants. 

“I’m gonna head to the kitchen for water, need anything?”

“Just you,” you tease. “Hurry back.”

“You got it, angel,” Hyuck winks at you before heading to the door. He pulls on his shirt as he exits the room, but just when he gets his head through the neck hole, he catches a quick glimpse of one mister Mark Lee rushing into the bathroom at the end of the hall.

Had Mark been listening this whole time? Had he been outside of the door, listening to Hyuck fuck you? 

The thought makes Hyuck laugh again, and his ego triples in size. There’s something very… intriguing about this whole situation with the frat’s ‘designated’ virginal church boy, even if this experience is making Hyuck rethink his ideas of commitment. 

If the last Sunday service had been torture, today might just be Hell for Mark. 

He’s sweating, shaking even, his knee bobbing up and down anxiously while he sits in the back row. 

He’d returned the Bible he’d stolen last time, but he fears that he might end up taking it again. Every time he thinks about you, thinks about what it felt like to have his hand down your pants while you sucked on his neck- 

No, he can’t think about it. He can’t-

But it’s too late, he feels his cock growing in his pants, and shame washes over him. He runs a hand through his hair, fanning himself and taking deep breaths. 

It’s not ten minutes into the hour long service, and already, he’s at his breaking point. 

Mark battles with himself for another two minutes, and he finally gives up. When everyone stands to sing, he quietly excuses himself from the back row, ducking out of the church without looking back. 

“Mark?” you sit up hastily from Hyuck’s embrace, blinking at the boy who’s just entered the room. “You’re back from church early!”

“Yeah, I couldn’t sit through it,” Mark mumbles, throwing his jacket in the closet before collapsing on his bed, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s unlike you,” Hyuck sits up next to you. “Are you sick or something?”

“Definitely sick in the head,” Mark groans. 

“Enjoying sex doesn’t make you bad,” you tell him. “Besides, we haven’t even fucked yet.”

Mark sighs. “Yet.”

“So you were thinking about her fucking you while you were in church,” Hyuck grins next to you. “That’s sinful, Mark.”

“I know!” Mark flops onto his stomach, shoving his face against his pillow.

You look at Hyuck, and he makes a face, motioning to his friend. ‘Say something’ he mouths.

‘No, you say something!’ you mouth back.  

Instead, Hyuck simply pushes you out of his bed, and you stumble onto your feet. 

“Mark…” you approach the sulking churchboy. “I know a few things that could cheer you up.” 

Mark groans, but he sits up all the same, looking at you with eyes that tell you he wants you to elaborate.

“I was thinking…” you swallow, choosing your words. “Based on your history, it sounds like maybe you’ve never had someone go down on you before-”

“Fuck, she’s so good with her mouth,” Hyuck quips. 

“I know this whole thing started with you not eating pussy, but, seeing as you made me cum last week with your fingers, I thought I could return the favour somehow.” 

Mark’s lips part, and he allows you to take his hands, pulling him to be standing in front of you. 

“What do you say Mark?” You lean forward, your lips almost touching. “Can I suck you off? Pretty please?”

Instead of answering, he kisses you, cupping the back of your neck. 

Your first kiss with Mark had been slow and gentle, but there’s a new fire in him now, and it’s only a moment before his tongue is gliding past your lower lip, begging for entrance. You release a groan, reaching down to loop your fingers in the waistband of his pants, pulling him tighter to your body.

You can feel that he’s already hard, and you love how easy it is to turn him on. You love the way he’s already becoming more explorative in the way he interacts with you, his hand steady on the back of your neck, insistent that you stay lip locked. 

For a guy who doesn’t kiss girls much, he’s a phenomenal kisser. There’s emotion in it, and he tastes like spearmint. 

You get lost in the feeling of him, but after only a little while, you’re aching to touch him properly. Your hand slips down, cupping him through his pants. The church boy shivers at the contact, and you squeeze him. It’s the first time you’ve really touched his cock, and you bet he’s already aching-

He releases the back of your neck, and you take it as a sign to begin kissing down his body. You start at his throat, licking the sensitive spot that has him grabbing your hips and releasing a moan. He makes such pretty sounds-

You continue rubbing his cock, but when your mouth gets to his collarbone, you grab at his shirt. “Can this come off?”

“Yeah,” Mark mumbles, releasing you so he can unbutton the nice church shirt he’s wearing. 

When he discards the fabric, revealing his body to you, you simply enjoy it for a moment. 

Mark and Hyuck both have such wonderful bodies. Sure, some of your friends make good arguments about the muscled forms of Jaehyun, Johnny and Jeno, but you prefer Mark’s understated physique. 

He’s a soccer player, and his body is perfectly athletic without being too much to handle.

Your kisses begin to descend, and you find yourself pausing at the cross necklace. You lean forward and press your lips to it softly. Mark lets out a shaky breath. 

You know he’s watching you, and this is your way of showing him you still respect his religion, despite persuading him to partake in the more ‘sinful’ side of life.

“Wait,” Mark says, and he lets go of you to reach behind his neck, fumbling with the clasp. You watch him with curiosity as he removes the cross, holding it gently and placing it onto his bedside table.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him without the gold chain around his throat, and you wonder what the removal of it could mean, but you try not to think too hard about it.

You sink to your knees on the floor, undoing his belt and looking up at Mark. If he doesn’t want this, he can stop you, and you give him more than enough time to make that decision. But Mark only watches you, breathing heavily as you undo the button, then the zipper-

“You want this?” you ask, hooking your fingers in his pants and briefs.

He nods. “I want you.”

You smile, tugging the fabrics down so they pool at his feet. 

“You have such a pretty cock,” you whisper, grabbing the base and swiping your thumb across the leaking tip. You notice the way Mark’s chest and neck flush pink, as if he’s embarrassed by your words, but you know that praise is good for Mark. 

You press a kiss to the head of his cock, suckling a little while Mark moans above you. 

It looks like he’s not sure where to place his hands, so you reach for one, placing it on your cheek while you take more of him into your mouth. 

“God-” Mark whispers.

“She feels good, right?” Hyuck asks.

“Yeah,” Mark nods. “Really good.”

Having them both give you praise has your pussy throbbing, and it encourages you to sink further down onto his cock, sucking harder-

“Shit-” Mark nearly whimpers, and you think this might be the first time you’ve heard him swear. 

You know it’s wrong, and bad, and dirty, and sinful- but there’s something about corrupting Mark that has you going insane. You bob up and down on his cock, stroking the base that you can’t reach with your mouth. 

“This is too hot,” Hyuck says. “I’ve gotta join.”

“How-” Mark begins to ask, but a second later, hands are pulling you off of Mark’s cock.

“Both of you, on the bed,” Hyuck instructs. “You’ve heard of spit roasting, right, Mark?”

“I-” the church boy’s skin is flushed again, and when you hop up on the bed, he follows, clamoring after you. 

“Look, you’ll have her mouth,” Hyuck gets on the mattress behind you, and you hear him undoing his belt, “and I’ll have her perfect pussy. It’s a win, win.”

Mark doesn’t argue, his eyes moving down to meet yours as you take his dick back into your mouth, picking up where you’d left off.

Hyuck, meanwhile, tears your pants down, and a moment later his fingers are gliding through your pussy. “Fuck, angel, you’re soaked. Sucking Mark’s cock really turns you on, huh?”

You groan a sound of affirmation around Mark, and his hand is quick to grab your head again, fingers flexing in your hair. 

“You can fuck her face if you want,” Hyuck suggests, working two fingers into you easily. “She loves getter her throat fucked-”

Mark’s hips twitch at the words, but he doesn’t follow through. You think maybe he doesn’t want to hurt you, and it’s an endearing idea.

Hyuck pulls his digits from your core, and they’re replaced with the head of his cock, which he rubs the length of your pussy, teasing your clit before pushing into you.

Your fuck buddy lets out a loud groan, his hands finding your hips as he sinks his length fully into your core. 

“Dude,” Hyuck breathes, “her pussy is literally Heaven-”

His first thrust sends you further onto Mark’s cock, and the man above you gasps when he hits the back of your throat. 

“Is fucking pussy going against God?” Hyuck asks, in an almost rhetoric manner. “Isn’t there some weird church loophole where anal doesn’t count? Her ass is great too, scout’s honor.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Mark’s not even listening to Hyuck. He’s much too focused on your lips wrapped around him, and the sounds slipping out of him make you think maybe he’s close to the edge.

All things considered - for a guy who’s never been blown - Mark’s lasting remarkably well, but you don’t want him to last. You want him to cum, like he deserves to cum. 

When you suck harder, you feel Mark’s cock twitch, and he lets out a groan. “Shit, I’m gonna-”

“Cum in her mouth,” Hyuck states, pace getting rougher inside of you. “Do it. She’s a good girl. She’ll swallow. Fuck, it’s so hot when she swallows.” 

Mark moans, and he pushes his hips forward, sending his cock into the back of your throat. Your gag reflex is the thing that makes him cum, and an “Oh my God!” leaves his lips as he explodes down your throat.

Hyuck’s right, you are a good girl, and you swallow every drop, working Mark through his orgasm until he’s gasping. He pulls out of your mouth, and Hyuck takes the opportunity to fuck you even harder.

Now that you can moan freely, you fill the room with sounds of your own pleasure. When Mark gets off the bed, you fall onto your face, turning to press your cheek to the mattress while you watch Mark find his pants on the floor. 

His eyes meet yours, and you can see his pupils are blown. It’s so incredibly sexy to have Hyuck fucking you on Mark’s bed while Mark watches, and your pussy throbs around Hyuck’s cock. 

“Fuck, you just got so tight, angel,” Hyuck groans, fingers digging into your waist while his hips buck wildly. “Shit, I’m not going to last like this-”

You reach a shaky hand under your body, finding your clit, and it only makes your pussy clamp down harder on your fuck buddy, who releases another loud moan. 

“You close, angel? Sucking off Mark must have really got you going-” 

“I’m close,” you confirm, grabbing at the bedsheet with your free hand while your fingers continue on your clit. 

“Yeah, you are,” Hyuck growls. “That’s my good girl, my perfect angel. I want you to cum so bad, it’ll tip me over the edge- Fuck! I’m gonna fill you up so good, so fucking good-”

You love it when Hyuck talks dirty like this, and you gasp as you get closer and closer to your high-

“Come on,” Hyuck lands a smack to your ass, and the pained pleasure has you crying out, rubbing your clit harder. “Cum for me,” he commands.

It’s all you need to reach the edge, and you fall over it with a loud moan, forcing your eyes to stay open while you stare at Mark, who watches you with parted lips and a dazed expression.

“That’s it, that’s it-” Hyuck grunts, pace faltering as he cums too, fulfilling his promise of filling you up just the way you like it. He fucks you through your highs, and your hand falls from your clit to the bed, body on the cusp of overstimulation as Hyuck’s motions begin to slow.

As things come to a stop, Hyuck lets out a deep breath. “Mark, come over here, you’ve gotta see this.”

“I don’t want to look at your dick,” comes Mark’s quick retort.

“Then don’t look at my dick, look at her pussy with my cum dripping out of it. Trust me, it’s so fucking hot-” Hyuck pulls out of you, and you whine at the loss.

You watch Mark go around the side of the bed, and you can feel both of their eyes on your hole, which is already beginning to drip Hyuck’s cum-

You place a hand under your core, not wanting to get any of this on Mark’s bed, and Hyuck laughs loudly. 

“Aren’t you two worried about pregnancy?” Mark asks.

“That’s what birth control is for,” Hyuck says. “Cumming inside feels like nothing else in the whole world.”

“What about STI’s?”

“Well, I mean…” Hyuck gets off the bed, and you watch him grab a tissue from his desk, “we’re only really fucking each other and we’re both clean so…”

“Wait, you two only sleep with each other?” Mark sounds justifiably confused. “So… why aren’t you two… why aren’t you two dating?”

It’s a very good question, and from the way Hyuck brushes it off with a ‘you know’ and a topic change, it feels as if neither of you really have a good answer. “Anyways, you have to try this sometime,” Hyuck says again. “Next Sunday.” 

Mark sighs. “Can’t we do this on any day but Sunday?”

“Where would be the fun in that, church bitch?”

You let out a groan of annoyance, but you think you’re starting to understand this is just the way their relationship is. 

Getting through a full week while being on the same campus as you is starting to feel like Mark’s own personal Hell. Every time he so much as catches a glimpse of you running between classes, blood rushes to his cock. 

Hell, even at soccer practice with Hyuck, every time Mark looks at his forward position roommate, all he can think about is the visual of Hyuck fucking you from behind on his own bed. 

By Friday, he’s too pent up to even attend his last class, and he rushes back to the frat to get some shower time.

He’s becoming much too used to jacking off in the shower, but he really can’t help himself. 

Mark feels like an absolute sinner, especially with the cross necklace around his neck. Today, something comes over him, and he takes it off, wrapping the gold chain around his right hand. He looks at it for a moment, and there’s almost something like curiosity-

He wraps his hand around his cock, flinching a little at the cold metal on his heated skin. As he begins to move his fist up and down his aching length, the bite of the necklace feels like repentance, like something he deserves. 

Mark takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks about you. 

He thinks about the sounds you make, the expression on your face as you cum- how your mouth had felt on his throbbing cock- 

He can’t believe how easy it is to get himself to the edge, especially with the added pain of the necklace around his hand. Does this make him even worse? It shouldn’t be this easy to cum- it shouldn’t be, but it is.

When he reaches the edge, it’s not God’s name on Mark’s lips, it’s yours.

He gasps, body tingling as he pumps his way through it, the necklace biting into his skin-

“Jesus Christ Mark! Get a fucking room!” comes Jeno’s voice. “Some of us are just trying to fucking shower!”

The outburst makes shame flood through his body, but it also only adds to the powerful sensation in his cock, his cum shooting across his chest. 

Mark’s decides he’s definitely going to Hell for this.

Another Saturday win for the soccer team means another frat party, and Hyuck loves the attention you give him on days when he gets a goal. You’re even touchier than usual, praising him for his skills-

Yet, Hyuck finds it hard to focus on you with Mark blatantly staring from across the room. 

Hyuck has enjoyed sharing you with his roommate, more than he ever thought he would, but tonight, he wants you for himself, and when you begin kissing his neck, pushing him against the wall, Hyuck’s had enough of this public bullshit.

“My room, now,” he commands. 

With a giggle, you turn, darting off towards the stairs, and Hyuck follows you with a smile. As he climbs the steps in twos, he gets a feeling he’s being followed, and he stops on the first landing to turn and look at Mark.

“What are you doing?”

“Huh?” Mark blinks. “I’m uh… coming with you?”

“It’s Saturday.”

“So?”

“So,” Hyuck sighs, “you only get access to angels on Sundays, all good Christians should know that.”

“But-” Mark opens his mouth to argue but Hyuck’s not in the mood for it tonight.

“No joining,” he says firmly. But as he looks at Mark’s defeated expression, Hyuck feels something like pity. “I guess you can stand outside the door and listen, you perv.”

Mark’s skin flares with embarrassment, but as Hyuck continues up the stairs, he gets the suspicion that Mark’s going to do exactly what he’d just suggested.

When you arrive at the frat house on Sunday afternoon, Hyuck is waiting for you in the living room. He pulls you into a kiss, and his lips linger against your own, his fingers digging into your hips. “Are you ready for today, my little demon?”

You laugh. “I’m always ready. But we have to wait till Mark gets back from church.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Hyuck rolls his eyes. “We could always start without him.”

“That wouldn’t be very nice,” you note, grinning at your fuck buddy.

“Making me wait isn’t very nice,” Hyuck counters.

“It’s important to learn how to be patient,” you tell him, pressing another peck to his lips. “Come on, I’m sure we can find an episode of something to watch on Netflix.”

When you get to Hyuck’s room, the last thing you expect is to find Mark waiting for you. He’s sitting on his bed, staring at the floor, and his head snaps up as you enter.

“Mark?” You can’t hide your confusion. “Shouldn’t you be at church?”

“I’m not going today,” he states, standing and placing his cross necklace on the bedside table.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, walking over to grab his hands, assessing him for head injury.

“Everything is wrong,” Mark sighs. “Doing this with you two is wrong. Wanting you this badly is wrong. Getting hard in church is wrong. What I want to do to you is wrong. But… as crazy as it sounds, it also feels right.”

Hyuck lets out a whistle behind you, and you hear him locking the door. “Damn, Mark, I’m actually kind of impressed.”

“So…” you look into Mark’s eyes, “does this mean you’re ready?”

He nods. “Yeah… I’m ready.”

“Are you sure about that, church boy?” your fuck buddy asks. “Do you want us to put up a cross and see if it falls down as a sign that God thinks you’re a sinner?”

Mark takes a deep breath, and his eyes shift to Hyuck over your shoulder. “Fuck God, and fuck the cross.”

Your lips part in shock, and Mark takes that moment to grab your face and kiss you. It’s the hungriest kiss you’ve had from him so far, and you melt into his embrace, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your chest to his own. 

His tongue explores yours, as confident as ever, and his hands move down to your hips, needy and rough. When his palm slips down to grab your ass, your moan loudly, all consumed by this new Mark. 

“Shit, dude,” Hyuck whispers from behind you. “Guess I should stop calling you church boy.” 

Mark lets out a groan, and then he’s tossing you onto his bed. A squeal of delight escapes you at the roughness of it all. 

“I wanna taste you,” Mark states, breathing heavily as he looks down at you with dark eyes.

“Then taste me,” you say simply, already grabbing at your pants to push them down.

Mark helps you tug them off, and then his own fingers are hooking in the waistband of your panties, tearing them down your legs with one rough motion.

“Oh my God, Mark-” you gasp, shocked at his sudden change in attitude.

The man who gets on the bed between your legs isn’t the same man who had whimpered while he fingered you two weeks ago. He’s not a soft church boy worried about boundaries, he’s a confident man who knows what he wants. And what he want is you. 

You can’t even take a moment to breathe before Mark’s pressing his tongue against your pussy, hands firmly grabbing at your thighs while he licks a stripe of your most sensitive area.

“Fuck,” you groan, reaching down to thread your fingers through his hair.

His response is a moan that sends shivers through your body, his lips suctioning around your clit like he’s a seasoned pro. There’s no hesitation or worry about correctness, there’s only a pussy deprived man who seems to know exactly what to do to have your toes curling as you drag them across his back.

You’ve had good oral sex before, Hyuck’s particularly skilled in this field, but as wild as your fuck buddy is, he’s never been feral like this. 

Mark’s tongue is unpredictable, lapping at you and pushing into your hole, teasing your walls as he rubs his nose against your clit. “Shit, Mark, you’re so good-”

“Better than me?” Hyuck asks.

You hate to admit it, but when a strangled “Yes!” leaves your lips, it only makes Mark go harder on you. 

You have no brain space to focus on Hyuck, your eyes closed as Mark’s tongue pleasures you like no one ever has before. 

It’s like he knows your body already, as if he’s divinely guided- 

The thought has your pussy throbbing, and as if he senses your need, Mark lets go of one of your thighs, adjusting so he can slip a finger into you while his tongue returns to your clit.

“Shit, just like that-” you gasp, legs quivering over his shoulders.

Another digits slips into your wet hole, and more moans leave you as the church boy finger fucks you even better than he did last time. 

You’re consumed by Mark, completely, and it feels like Heaven to get lost in the pleasure he’s providing you. 

You apply a bit of pressure on his head, wanting him to go harder on you, and he rewards you by sucking your clit into his mouth, tongue flicking the sensitive bud.

“Fuck-” you moan, pushing your hips up toward his face. You’re already so close to cumming that it’s almost insane, and you trust that this time, nothing Hyuck could do in your periphery would prompt Mark to let up on you.

He seems Hellbent on getting you to the edge, and as his fingers crook up to stroke your gspot, you know he’s going to accomplish his task with flying colours. 

“Sounds like she’s close, dude,” Hyuck muses, reading your reactions like the back of his hand.

When you turn your head to open your eyes, you find Hyuck has his cock out, and he’s stroking it, gaze fixed on the man between your legs. 

There’s something so… fulfilling about being watched like this. To know that Hyuck’s just as turned on as you and Mark, even though he’s taking no part in your pleasure. 

Hyuck has a nice cock, and the sight of his fist wrapped tightly around it has even more lust coursing through your body. 

To have both men worshipping you in this way- it’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

“I’m gonna-” you stutter, licking your lips as the pleasure builds between your legs.

“Cum for me,” Mark groans against your pussy. “Please, angel, I want you to cum.” 

The ‘please’ is the cherry on top, as is the petname that usually only Hyuck ever uses on you, and combined, they throw you over the edge. 

You cry out, rutting your pussy against Mark’s face while he tongue and finger fucks you through your orgasm.

The church boy lets out sinful sounds, and you can tell he’s enjoying being used like this, enjoying making you come undone on his fingers. Your pussy is throbbing around him, and his unrelenting digits continue stroking the spot that has you tinging with overwhelming pleasure.

“Mark!” you nearly scream, overtaken by the kind of ecstasy you’ve never felt before. 

“Fuck, dude,” Hyuck breathes, “you made her squirt-”

You’re almost twitching when Mark finally pulls his tongue from your clit, and his fingers slow before slipping out of you. You open your eyes to watch him lick them clean, and he lets out a deep groan, clearly enjoying the taste of you.

You need him to fuck you, like you’ve never needed anyone - even Hyuck - to fuck you in your entire life. 

“Please,” you whimper. “Mark-”

“Let me get a condom,” he states, sitting up-

“No!” you reach out to grab at him, locking eyes with him as you state, “I want you raw.” 

It’s the first time today that he looks unsure. “I don’t-”

“I’m clean,” you insist, “and so are you-” 

“Bruh, just raw dog it,” Hyuck says. “Trust us-”

With one last look between your thighs, Mark relents, and he gets back on the bed, tugging off his shirt and his pants while you work on getting yourself naked. 

As soon as you’re both bare, Mark is laying his body over yours, pressing you into the bed while his lips move feverishly against your own. You tangle your fingers in his hair, enjoying the feeling of his cock trapped between your bodies, rubbing over your clit as he rocks his hips.

“Please,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Inside-” 

Mark pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily as he looks into your eyes. His gaze shifts down, and he reaches a hand to grab the base of his length, teasing it against your pussy.

You moan loudly as he toys with your clit, and then he’s testing the head of his cock against your aching hole. The tip slips just inside and you whimper, only for him to pull back, then do it again-

“God, Mark-” You dig your nails into his shoulders, throwing your head back against the pillows and closing your eyes.

He pushes his cock deeper inside of you, and you both let out groans of pleasure. His mouth returns to yours while he slowly sinks into your pussy, until his hips are flush against your own. 

“Fuck,” Mark whimpers, twitching from the new sensation. 

“Told you raw was the way to go,” Hyuck says, as if he’s the most helpful person in the room.

Both you and Mark ignore your fuck buddy, and Mark takes a test thrust that has you both gasping. 

“Just like that,” you encourage him. “Fuck, you’re doing so good-” 

His lips return to yours, and the kiss takes your breath away as he begins to find a slow pace. Each thrust is deep, intentional, and in some odd way, this doesn’t feel like fucking. Fucking is hard, fast, fevered- but this is different. This is more like making love.

Mark sucks on your bottom lip, and he adjusts one of his hands so it can come up to grab at your breast, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and making you shiver. Your body reacts, pussy throbbing around Mark’s cock, and he groans into your mouth.

“Feels like Heaven,” he whispers, massaging your boob with a loving hand. 

Your skin tingles at his words. You can take the church boy out of church, but you can't take the church out of the church boy. 

His pace is getting faster, and each thrust has the pleasure building in the pit of your stomach. It’s insane how this is Mark’s first time- it sounds like he hadn’t gotten far with the last girl he’d had under him before the Jesus picture incident- 

He’s an absolute natural, and each brush of his lips against yours has you feeling closer to him than ever before. His cock fits perfectly in your pussy, and the sounds continuing to escape him tell you that he feels just as good as you do.

“I’m not-” Mark gasps, kisses moving to your throat. “I’m not going to last long-”

“That’s okay,” you assure him, gently rubbing his back. “I’m proud of you.”

He groans, sucking on your neck. Mark’s hand moves down to your hip, anchoring you to the bed while he ruts into you faster. You know you’re close, but it can be hard to cum without clit stimulation, so you sneak your own palm down your abdomen, fingers seeking out your most sensitive spot.

You both groan when you make contact with your clit, and Mark’s breath is hot against your throat. “You close?” he asks.

“Almost,” you nod, rubbing soft circles around your clit while Mark’s cock slides in and out of your pussy. 

“Ya’ll better cum quick or I might bust a nut just watching.” Hyuck’s voice makes you laugh, but the laugh quickly becomes a moan as Mark fucks you harder, fingers digging into your hip.

“I’m so close,” Mark whispers. “Please, this feels too good-” 

“Mark,” you whimper, loving how sweetly he talks to you while buried balls deep in your pussy. 

“Please, angel, I can’t hold on much longer-”

Your skin tingles at the idea that he’s working hard not to cum, that he won’t allow himself to get there until you can reach your high with him. He’s such a soft boy, the most perfectly wonderful man you’ve ever fucked-

“I’m gonna-” you bite at your lip, closing your eyes and focusing on the feeling of ecstasy that you’re so close to reaching- 

“Cum with me,” Mark begs. “Cum with me, angel, cum-”

The desperation in his voice is what finally sends you over the edge, and you gasp as your core clamps down on him. Mark echoes your sound of pleasure, groaning loudly in your ear as his fingers dig into your hip. 

You can feel him filling you up, and it makes you extra sensitive as you ride out your orgasm, clutching his shoulders like a lifeline. 

To Mark’s credit, he fucks you through it, hips only faltering slightly before the end.

When you’re both done, you pull your hand away from your clit, and Mark all but collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he buries his face against your neck. 

You can hardly have a moment of peace with Mark before Hyuck’s pulling at his shoulder. “My turn,” your fuck buddy insists. “Come on dude, I’ve been waiting forever-”

A laugh bubbles out of you at Hyuck’s antics, and with a loud groan, Mark gets off of you. There’s a dazed look in his eyes as he rolls onto his back in the small twin bed next to you. You wonder if he’s going to just lay there-

Hyuck’s not having it, and he reaches down to scoop you up in his arms, tossing you onto his own mattress. 

“Fuck, angel,” Hyuck looks down at your body. “How do you want it?”

You consider it for a moment, and then roll onto your stomach, lifting your hips as an invitation.

Hyuck groans loudly. “God, you’re perfect.”

He’s straddling your legs not a second later, grabbing your waist to tug you up a little bit more while he glides his cock between your closed thighs, grazing your pussy. 

“Shit, this is going to be so good,” Hyuck mutters to himself, using one hand to wrap around the base of his cock and guide it to your entrance.

He moans as he slips inside. “Fuck- I’ve never banged you using another guy’s cum as lube before, but shit, angel, I could get used to this.”

His words make you feel dirty, sinful even, a little like a whore- but something inside of you actually enjoys it. 

“Hyuck-” you whimper at how good the position feels. With your legs closed and your ass in the air, things feel more snug, and the angle has Hyuck hitting a sweet spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“I know, angel,” Hyuck assures you. “Feels fucking fantastic.”

His breath is hot against your back as he begins rutting into you, and you grab onto Hyuck’s pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne that has perfumed the material. 

“You look so good like this,” your fuck buddy says, and the slapping of his hips against your ass is making you go crazy. “I’m never going to get used to the way you look with my cock buried in your perfect fucking pussy.”

Your grip on his pillow tightens, the praise going straight to your core, which throbs around him.

“Yeah, I know you love it when I praise you. You just love being made out to be an angel while doing dirty shit an angel would never do.” 

He knows you so well it almost hurts. And when he talks to you like this, it makes you wonder why he hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet. Although, if you had been his girlfriend a few weeks ago, you would have never propositioned Mark, and the idea makes you sad.

You open your eyes, looking over at the church boy you’ve come to enjoy spending time with. 

Mark’s watching you, and as Hyuck fucks you harder, you have to break the eye contact in favour of pressing your face into the pillow. Your sounds are just getting too loud, even for a frat house.

Your pussy feels like magic, to have been fucked by Mark and now Hyuck- you know you’ll be cumming again soon, whether you want to or not.

“I can feel you clenching, angel,” Hyuck laughs, as if reading your mind. “So this is as good for you as it is for me.” 

“So good,” you confirm, which only prompts him to fuck you faster, gliding in and out of your cum lubed hole easier than ever before.

“Watching Mark have you first was torture,” Hyuck tells you. “I was so close to busting multiple times- but I held out, because we both know you’re going to love being filled with us both. Dirty fucking angel.”

You whine at his words, so close to the edge you can almost taste it.

“Don’t be shy,” the man fucking you announces, “cum on this cock. I know you want to.”

Your skin tingles on the cusp of pleasure-

“Be a good little angel and cum for us.” 

There’s something about the word ‘us’ that just does it for you, and you let out a loud gasp as you fall apart. Hyuck echoes your sound, fingers digging into your hips as he reaches his own release. He fucks you even harder, groaning while your pussy clenches around his twitching cock.

“Just like that, just like that-” he pants, encouraging you while he rides you through your highs.

You’re not sure how long you cum, but when Hyuck finally slows to a stop inside of you, you think you might just pass out from all the pleasure you’ve received in such a short time.

Your fuck buddy leans over your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder that moves up to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access.

“That’s our angel,” Hyuck muses softly in your ear.

You find yourself smiling. It’s the happiest you’ve been in months. 

Nothing else matters, all there is right now is safety and love and acceptance… and maybe a little bit of filth.

When Hyuck pulls out of your pussy, you feel yourself immediately begin to drip, and you do your due diligence, shifting your hand under your body to collect the fluid so it doesn’t ruin Hyuck’s bed.

Your fuck buddy grabs a few tissues, and then he’s sitting by your thighs, spreading your ass cheeks so he can get a good look at you while he groans at the sight.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, gently wiping your abused hole, cleaning you of his and Mark’s cum. “I don’t think you even know how hot you are.”

He’s probably right about that, but you’re sure that if you keep doing this with him and Mark, they’ll make you learn.

When Hyuck’s done with his very basic aftercare, he flops onto the bed behind you, back to the wall while he cradles you to his chest. His lips return to your shoulder, and the soft kisses make you whimper from sensitivity.

Then- something is falling on you, and you jolt, eyes snapping open-

“Shit,” Hyuck groans, and you realize the soccer poster has slipped off the wall and onto your bodies.

Your gaze immediately goes to Mark, and you see a look of shock in his expression. “Oh my God-”

“It’s not God,” Hyuck assures you both. “It’s probably just Jeno fucking some chick on the other side of the wall.” As if to prove his point, your fuck buddy bangs the wall three times, and a moment later there are three returned bang noises. “See? Totally just Jeno fucking.”

Mark doesn’t look very convinced, and he rolls onto his back, staring up at the ceiling while he runs his hands through his hair.

“I hope this fucking poster isn’t going to stop you from joining us again next Sunday,” Hyuck says as he pushes the symbol of Jeno’s sex life to the floor.

“Next Sunday?” Mark turns to look at you both.

“Yeah, next Sunday,” Hyuck repeats. “You do want to cum again, don’t you?”

The church boy lets out a deep sigh, but then he’s nodding. “Yeah.”

“Perfect, then it’s settled,” Hyuck grins against your shoulder. 

Your fuck buddy is something of an enigma, and you’re never quite sure if you’ve gotten him figured out. He’d started this whole thing being reluctant to allow Mark to join, but now, it seems as if he relishes the thought of having Sunday dick appointments with his best friend.

Although, as you stare at the pretty church boy in the bed across from yours, you really can’t say that you mind. 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I just love Markhyuck?

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “I’m bad?” Hyuck gasps in shock. “Says the people fucking in an accesibility washroom?” He has a point there, and even Mark lets out a chuckle while he presses his lips firmly to your neck, his hips beginning to thrust so he can glide his cock in and out of your wet pussy.“I expect this from her, but from you, church boy?” Hyuck shakes his head while leaning back against the locked door, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m still shocked by how sinful you’ve become.”

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, threesome, hand job, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, mention of fingering and pussy eating, praise, some degradation with affectionate use of ‘whore/slut’, the constant ‘sin’ mentions, slight cumplay/leaving panties on after having 2 men’s cum in you, bathroom sex, etc… I petnames. (hers) angel. (mark’s) church boy. 

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 270

🌙 staring. Haechan & Mark x afab!reader

bonus

It’s been something like four months since you and Hyuck invited Mark into your unconventional relationship, and so much has changed since then. Having battled for a long time with perceived self-worth, it seemed that the inclusion of a friend within the relationship was all Hyuck had needed to realize his deeper feelings for you, and feel comfortable enough to share them.

Now, Hyuck’s having the best sex of his life with his two best friends in the entire world. Despite Hyuck’s growth, however, it’s clear that the person most changed by your relationship is none other than the OG church boy himself.

Hyuck had thought he’d been horny when he entered university, but it feels as if Mark’s pent-up energy has made him significantly hornier. 

Sitting in class, knowing you and Mark have a spare right now… well, Hyuck can only imagine what the two of you might be up to. As the lecture gets particularly boring, Hyuck pulls out his phone, opening snapchat maps to see if he can pinpoint you and his roommate.

Hyuck’s not shocked to find you were both active on snapchat ten minutes ago, in a building closeby. He’d never been one for maps, but since you and Mark had started fucking, Hyuck had been forced to learn all feasible sexcipade locations on campus. If he’s not mistaken, you and Mark are in one of the single occupancy accessibility bathrooms on the first floor of the arts building, and the thought makes him swallow thickly. 

With one last look at his boring teacher, Hyuck grabs his backpack and he slinks out of the lecture hall.

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[logoleptic-since-06]

Love Thorns All Over This Rose

✮ Pairing: Satoru x Fem!Reader

✮ Content: Fem!Reader, Non-Sorcerer AU, College Setting, Mentions of Family and Financial Issues, Mentions of Other JJK Characters, Language, Smut (Fingering, Cunillingus), Slight Angst, Fluff, Dislike to Love, Mentions of Smoking, Slowburn, Not Proofread

Based On This Concept I Made

✮ A/N: I know I said I will not be writing fics for the concepts I made, but I love this trope too much to not have written it.

★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ ★ ♫ -> Some songs this was inspired by (I know I listen to white girl music, what about it?) ✮ Also heavily inspired by the book The Deal by Elle Kennedy.

✮ Word Count: 4.6k

MDNI

“This was your last chance, Gojo, I’m gonna have to revoke your captaincy.”

“Please, coach,” Satoru’s usual cocky tone was replaced with desperation, “One more chance, please. My econ test scores came out today, and I’m confident I did well. Just consider this for once.”

Coach Yaga pauses for a second, “Listen, kid, I will consider it for now, but it’s really not on me. College rules say athletes can’t have more than three F’s. And according to that, I should bench you till you get your grades up.”

His eyes widen. “What? No, you can’t bench me, I’m your best player!”

“You know it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck…” he murmurs in frustration. His econ test, that he has already given, is his last straw. If he fucks this one up, he will be benched until he gets his grades up. Basketball tournament season is right around the corner, and being in his senior year of college means his professional recruitments will start this season. Being benched is far from an option he wants to go for.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

He fails.

He fucking fails the test that he was so sure he’d pass.

“And then he benched me,” he groans as he finishes telling the story to his friend group/housemates/teammates. He looks at Suguru, his oldest and closest friend, “Oh, and he made you the captain for the time being, by the way.”

Suguru simply shrugs. “Then get your grades up and re-secure your spot. I won’t even be going pro, you need this.”

"We are all rooting for you, Gojo," Haibara's over-enthusiastic voice speaks. Haibara and Nanami are in their junior year, and Haibara is probably Satoru and Suguru's biggest hype-man, despite playing in the same team.

“I’ve tried, you know I have. I don’t know what else to-”  Satoru stops as an idea strikes his head. He tilts his head towards Nanami, “Hey, Nanami.” “No,” he says simply.

“I didn’t even-”

“Whatever you ask, no.” “Tutor me, you’re like the only smart person I know.” “I’m your junior.”

“We have the same course, we study the same thing in the same class.”

“Fuck, you’re such a manchild,” Shoko’s bored voice speaks as she takes a puff from her cigarette.

“Don’t smoke in our house,” Satoru scolds her, causing her to flip him off.

“Although,” Shoko sits up from laying against the couch, “I might have someone that can help you. My roommate.”

Shoko doesn’t live with the others, but Satoru has never heard of her roommate before. “Your roommate, huh?” he repeats lazily.

Nanami snorts, “Y/N? She’s in my year and I doubt she’ll ever help him.”

Shoko nods, “You can try if you’re desperate enough.” She takes another puff of her cigarette. “Offer her tons of money.”

Satoru thinks for a second, “She can be convinced using money? That’s perfect, I have money.” 

Everyone except Haibara rolls their eyes.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

Having finished your last assignment of the day, you relax back against your chair, taking in the hushed ambience of the library. It was a stressful, but productive day. You only relax for a split second before a wave of anxiety gushes over you– you’ve recently lost your job at the local barista due to it being shut down. It was the only place close to the campus you can get a job at, and there is no way you could afford a living on campus without a job.

You decide to get up and head to your dorm room instead of musing upon your issues. As you begin to pack your things into your tote bag, you see a tall, white-haired figure sit across from you at the table with a bright smile on his face that shows off his dimples. 

Satoru Gojo?

The star athlete is Shoko’s childhood best friend. Ever since she became your roommate in your freshman year as a sophomore, you’ve only heard tales of him and Suguru Geto. You’ve seen them around the campus, of course, but you’ve always chosen peace over any interaction with them. People flock around them like a group of fans rushing over to buy tickets for a sold-out concert. Arrogance seeps out of him every time he walks through a door, making every head turn towards him.

“Hi,” he says, looking straight into you. You look behind you, trying to see if he is talking to someone else. “No, I’m talking to you. Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name in his voice sounds weird. How did he know who you were? 

He continues, “I am–”

“I know who you are.” You cut him off for a reason that is unknown to even yourself. He tilts his head in confusion, but you can tell it's not from the knowledge of you knowing his name but rather from the fact that you are wearing an annoyed expression on your face right now. You almost feel bad but it's not like you can help it, you just lost your job and it is not easy for a girl from a middle class family to survive in this environment filled with some of the richest brats in the city, Satoru Gojo included.

“I need your help.” Every word that comes out of his mouth sounds so foreign, you wouldn’t have imagined them in your wildest dreams.

“My help?” Why is he talking to you?

“I need you to tutor me.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We are in the same classes together. I need someone to tutor me because I’m failing my classes and if I’m benched and won’t be able to play until I pass them. And if I don’t play this season, I won’t be recruited to go pro, so basically my entire future is in your hands.”

Your disturbed grimace is probably a little too noticeable, because the next words that come out of his mouth are, “Why are you making that face?” He says it with such innocent confusion, you almost give in.

“I don’t even know you,” you finally say, your voice sounds bored.

“But you are the best I can find.”

“Why can’t you hire a professional tutor?”

“Because then my parents will know, and they can’t know.”

“That’s not my problem.” “God, you’re insufferable,” he exasperates, “I’ll pay. A lot.”

That gets your attention. You raise an eyebrow. “How much?”

He sits up and excitedly takes a piece of paper and pen, writes down an amount, and slides the paper towards you.

One look at the paper and your eyes go wide. He wrote an hourly rate and as you do the quick math in your head, you realize this would pay twice the amount you got as a barista.

You clear your throat before speaking. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he says firmly.

“And you will cooperate?”

“Of course, I need this, Y/N.” Will you ever get used to your name on his tongue?

“When and where?”

“Five days a week, so all working days. My house? It’s off campus. Give me your number, I’ll send you the location.” “I know where you live, I’ve dropped Shoko off to yours before. And yeah it works.”

“Great! Thanks so much, Y/N; you’re a lifesaver.” In the blink of an eye, he gets up and leaves you stranded at the library table.

Lifesaver… The word echoes through your head. You’ve been called that so many times, it doesn’t even mean anything anymore. You’ve been a lifesaver to your classmates for sharing your homework with them, or giving them answers during a test; you’ve been a lifesaver to your parents when you volunteered to look after your younger siblings, or when took care of dinner; you’ve been a lifesaver to your siblings for helping them study, or for solving any problem they’ve had. 

Even now, as you study in an elite university where the annual tuition is more than what your family earns in a year, you push yourself to work hard and maintain a scholarship, and work two jobs while simultaneously being a full-time student– just so you don’t have rely on someone else for anything, even if they’re your parents.

At least Satoru Gojo is willing to pay you a good amount for being a so-called ‘lifesaver’. Sure, there was a time when you thought money couldn’t buy you happiness, but spending so much time amongst your classmates made you realize it’s quite the opposite. Money brings you respect and recognition, and one day, you will have both of them, you are sure of it. For now, you are at peace with the fact that you are nothing but a phantom made up of invisible smoke, haunting the hallways until someone needs her.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The next day, you find yourself on the doorstep of your new student’s house. You shake off your unwanted anxiety and ring the doorbell. A few moments later, the door opens, revealing a tall figure with long luscious dark hair.

Suguru Geto, certified asshole number two (one is Gojo, of course). He looks down at you with a slight smirk. Seriously, what’s so funny? He motions you to come in.

“Satoru’s upstairs in his bedroom,” he drawls.

“Can you call him?”

He pauses for a second before answering, “Sure thing.” His gaze doesn’t avert from you as he calls out his name. Why is he so ominous? Why is Shoko friends with them?

Gojo comes out of his bedroom and stands by the stairway as he calls you up enthusiastically. You head upstairs and he leads you to his lavish bedroom and closes the door behind the two of you.

“So,” he says as he plops down on his bed, “Where do we start?”

“Let’s go through your assignments first.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

After an hour of tutoring, Satoru is officially done with his first tutoring session. He thinks you are a little odd with your bored yet annoyed expressions, yet he can’t stop but think you’re cute. He clearly gets the vibe that you aren’t the biggest fan of his as whenever he asked you a question about anything other than studies in the past hour, you had simply glared at him. It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever.

It is also clear that you have no interest in his basketball games whatsoever. Since every question that he asks you about basketball is also either met with a glare or a “Finish this first, then we’ll talk.”

Your annoyance doesn’t matter to Satoru– if anything, he’s loving the fact that he’s getting on your nerves. It isn’t just you– annoying people has always been his specialty. Despite being the captain and the strongest player, his cheery demeanor is always met with eye rolls or groans of displeasure. 

Sure, girls around him would die to be with him– even for a moment– but if it’s not for sleeping around, he isn’t quite ever wanted. He tells himself he is okay with it, that if they don’t want him, he will turn himself into someone they need. Which is exactly what he did; and now, without him, the team will fall apart.

Once the tutoring session is over, he hits you with a similar question, a cheeky grin plastered on his beautiful face. “So, you ever been to any of our games?”

“No,” you answer simply.

“Why not?”

“I’m not interested in sports.”

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“What ECAs did you have in highschool?” You look up at him. “I had plenty. Why do you wanna know?”

He shrugs. “Curiosity.” You sigh. “I was in the debate club, I worked for the school magazine, hosted multiple events, wrote articles, did internships, signed up for a bunch of award programs.”

Satoru’s eyes go wide. “And your SATs?”

“1560.”

Fuck. Satoru back in highschool was even bigger of a menace than he is now. With an SAT score of 1230 and basketball as the only ECA, it almost seems unfair to him now that both you and him are in the same university– one earned while the other given. Satoru never feels bad for exploiting his family’s money, after all, that’s the only thing they are willing to give him. But seeing someone work this hard– even harder than Nanami– to get to where they are is something Satoru can’t help but be impressed by.

And Satoru isn’t one to be impressed easily.

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

A few weeks pass in a breeze and the air now carries the hint of winter, the first fall of snow just around the corner. Students are locked inside their rooms, their heads buried in textbooks trying to prepare for the upcoming exams.

“You better pass this one, Gojo,” you tell him one day as you both are sitting in his room.

“Yes, ma’am.” He makes a salute gesture, causing you to stifle a small smile.

“I don’t wanna be that person, but why don’t you smile much?” His question takes you aback. “I’m not saying you should smile more; do whatever you want. I’m just asking why.”

You shrug simply, the guards you have around you have weakened a little in the past few weeks, but they’re not completely shattered. “I don’t smile without a reason.”

“I crack jokes.”

“You’re not funny.”

He rolls his eyes with a slight smirk tugging up his mouth.

You check the time and your eyes widen. “How long have I been here for?”

He leans back against his chair, “Almost three hours.”

“Shit, I was gonna call Shoko to come pick me up.”

He laughs when he hears that. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s exam season, she definitely has her phone turned off right now.” Catching the worried expression on your face, he adds, “Do you want me to drop you off?”

You think for a while, trying to figure out other possibilities. Once you fail to do so, you feel your guards cracking a little more as you answer, “Okay.”

`✦ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

The drive from his house to your campus dorm is a short one. Yet, something in you makes you want to stir up a conversation.

“So what made you start playing basketball?”

His eyes don’t drift from the road when he answers. “You know my dad, right? He was a professional basketball player. It’s all I’ve known ever since I can remember.”

You won’t admit it out loud, but you are impressed to see him be so passionate about something. “So, you’re close to your dad?”

The chuckle he lets out sounds almost bitter. “No, no, I’m not. I was sent to a boarding school when I was very young. Grew up there. Met Suguru and Shoko. Been home very less. My school’s coach was more of a father figure than my own dad ever was.”

Something pangs in your chest as you let his words sink in. “I’m sorry…”

“Nah, don’t be. It’s cool, you know? My parents were too busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine– it’s just what I’m used to.”

“So you don’t contact them?”

“When I need something, sure.” He pauses for a second. “I know what you think of me, okay?” His voice has a hint of sincerity now. “You think of me as some spoiled brat who loves to spend daddy’s money. And you know what? You’re absolutely right. I am that, shamelessly. But this is only because I realized at a very early age that money was the only way they would be present in my life, so I decided to exploit the shit out of it.”

You don’t have an answer to what he said. His experience of family is unique and unrelatable to you in every way. “I would’ve done the same if I were in your shoes,” you say, not quite believing your words. “You shouldn’t feel bad. You’re doing a great job.”

He looks at you like you hung the moon. “You think so?”

You try to hide your surprise at his reaction. “Yeah, I mean, you’re the captain of the team and the strongest player. You’ve been working so hard to get your grades up this semester, I’ve seen your dedication.” 

He smiles at you– not his usual cheeky smirk, but a genuine, heartfelt smile. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“Don’t thank me, Gojo, I’m just stating an observation.”

“Satoru.”

“What?”

“Call me Satoru. It’s what my friends call me.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Are we friends?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You were nice to me just now. I doubt you’re nice to a lot of people.”

“Well…” you trail off.

“Well…?” he echoes as he stops his car in front of my dorm building. 

You unbuckle my seatbelt. “Maybe a conversation for another day. Thanks for the ride, Go– Satoru.”

He smiles for a split second before it is wiped away and replaced with a pondering expression. “Wait–”

You stop before you can open the car door. “Yeah?”

“Let me walk you to your room.”

It’s your turn to smile now. “I can walk myself to the dorm, Satoru.”

“It’s late.”

“I’m a big girl.”

“Come on.”

He’s so cute– wait what? Why would your mind go there? That’s Satoru Gojo, a certified college whore.

“Fine, walk me to my dorm room,” you hear yourself say. What is wrong with you?

The two of you get out of the car and begin to walk towards the building gate. The midnight air sways against your face while your cardigan protects the rest of your body. The place is quiet, only crickets heard amongst the trees. The moonlight reflects on the cars parked in the parking lot as you and Satoru walk through it.

“So you were saying?” He breaks the silence.

“What?”

“You said ‘Well…’,” he points out.

You chuckle softly as you look away to the ground. “Nothing really… you said you doubt I’m nice to a lot of people; I was gonna say I don’t talk to a lot of people to begin with.”

He looks at you with his head tilted in confusion. “Why’s that?”

You shrug. “Not a lot of people approach me here, you know? I just… exist, I guess. I mean, I’ve got Shoko. I talk to Nanami and Utahime sometimes. I’m not completely friendless, so that’s nice.”

“Three people in a college with around 20,000 students isn’t really… you know…” He trails off.

You feel the walls around you crumble a little as you speak. “I know, I know. But like I said, no one approaches me, which makes sense. And I’m not one to randomly approach people. Not great with social cues.”

He nods thoughtfully. “Why would you say it makes sense for no one to approach you?”

Why was he asking you so many questions? You can’t remember the last time someone had been interested in getting to know you in this way.

“I’m a scholarship student, I’m not exactly…” You try to think of a word, “relevant in your social hierarchy.”

He is quiet after you say that, probably trying to figure out how to respond to that. So instead, you continue, “It doesn’t matter to me. I always think that if they don’t want me, I’ll make myself needed. I’ll become an important person. My parents may not be rich, but who says I can’t be?”

“So you’re really ambitious,” he says. “I mean, I kind of got that from er– your constant hustle.”

You laugh at his remark, appreciating his humor instead of showing you pity like most would. 

The two of you begin to walk up the stairs to your floor when he asks, “Which floor is it again?”

“Second.”

“Right… I’ve never been here. Shoko’s always coming over to ours to hang out.”

“The three of you must be really close.” He nods. “Yeah, well, five now actually. Nanami and Haibara came along during our sophomore year when we moved in together. They are good athletes, so I thought keeping them close would be good for the team.”

You nod as you reach your dorm room and ring the doorbell. When Shoko doesn’t answer, Satoru says, “She’s probably at the library. Or with Suguru.”

You nod at the possibility as you take out your copy of the keys. The jingling echoes through the empty hallway. You unlock the door to reveal your room filled with darkness. Turning on the lights, you politely invite Satoru in, to which he happily obliges.

He casually plops down on your bed, his legs swinging down.

“Make yourself at home, don’t be shy,” you say sarcastically. His phone rings. When he picks it up, you watch his demeanor change as the person on the other side of the phone speaks.

“No, I told you guys to not attend any parties for a month,” he says in a serious tone that’s very unlike him. “We have practice first thing in the morning every day before the season starts, and I will not stand any mishaps.”

Listening to him scold his teammates and watching him be a good captain stirs something unknown in you. It’s so attractive for one to be this responsible and laidback at the same time. Your eyes roam around his big biceps, stopping at the hand that holds the phone against his ear. He has nice hands, you think, wondering how it might feel inside you. 

Snap out of it.

You will not throw yourself to him only to be tossed aside. You remind yourself why you’re with him– for a job. A deal that benefits the both of you equally. Nothing more, nothing less.

Then why did you tell him things you’ve never admitted to anyone?

What bothers you more is the fact that he was so interested in getting to know you. The way he is always so grounded around you makes you wonder if your previous perception of him being an arrogant asshole was just a misconception.

He hangs up the phone and smiles sheepishly at you, his dimples denting his cheeks. “Sorry,” he says. “It was Haibara.”

“It’s fine,” you say as you subconsciously move forward and sit beside him on your bed.

“Hi,” he says as his blue eyes pierce through you.

“Hi,” you smile back at him, unable to stop yourself from wondering what the hell he was doing in your dorm room of all places he could be right now. “Did you have to be somewhere?”

He scrunches his brows. “No, why?”

“No, I thought Haibara needed you or something.”

“Oh no, that’s been dealt with, don’t worry.”

When did you both sit so close together? You can almost feel his breath against your skin. “You have practice early in the morning.”

“I can function with less sleep.” He is almost too quick to answer.

Your faces are only inches away when his eyes fall to your lips. You close your eyes and feel his lips brush against yours. You kiss him back immediately. 

Once you give him the green light, he deepens the kiss and you let out a low moan. His tongue enters your mouth as he hovers over you on the bed with you lying on your back. He trails his kisses down your jaw while pressing down to your tit with one hand.

His other hand trails to your inner thighs and you feel the heat pool between your legs. You let out a needy gasp, causing him to contact his lips against yours again while his hand unbuttons your jeans and slides inside them. He rubs your clothed pussy and intoxicated bliss spreads over you.

“Ahh, fuck, Satoru,” you whine. He takes that as a sign and slips his fingers inside your panties. Your eyes roll back when you feel two fingers thrust inside you while his thumb works on your clit.

“Nghh, Satoru, fuck, hahh don’t stop,” you don’t even know how loud you’re being, neither do you care right now.

As you say that, he takes his hand out of your pants, which makes you squirm needily. He positions himself such that he is facing between your legs. He reaches for the hem of your jeans as you lift your hips up and he pulls them down, followed by your panties, leaving your bottom bare in front of him. 

He finally brings his face closer to your heat and licks a long stripe along the slit your pussy. You moan out in utter pleasure, spreading your legs further for better access. He begins to nibble at your clit, making you see splashes of euphoria in front your eyes. The pleasure is too all-consuming for you to even think of what’s right or wrong, of what you should or should not be doing. And you couldn’t be bothered to care about any of it right now. 

He adds two fingers deep in your cunt, hitting the g-spot repeatedly as his mouth sucks on your clit. You feel the pressure build up like waves. “So close, Satoru, don’t stop,” you cry out. The waves crash over the shore with a loud moan escaping your lips. 

You lay there panting, recovering from what you would call the best orgasm you’ve had in your life, as he sits up and looks down at you, a proud expression masking that pretty face of his, now all glistening in your juices.

The realization of what you just did hits you the moment the high dies down. You quickly close your legs and sit up, trying to find your panties. 

“What happened?” Satoru asks in a concerned tone. You ignore him and put your underwear on. 

Once you are done, you finally look at him. “Get out,” you state simply.

“What?”

“You heard me. Get out.”

“Did you not like it?”

“Gojo, leave.”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”

“What’s wrong?” you echo his words. “Everything about this is wrong. I’m your tutor. I work for you.”

“So?”

“So, we shouldn’t be doing this. It’s inappropriate.”

“Are you serious? I thought we–”

“No, I don’t know why I told you so much about myself. Starting tomorrow, everything is strictly professional, or I’m gonna have to quit.”

“Y/N, you can’t just say that, you know that, right?” Satoru sounds determined.

“Yes, I very much can. I’m sorry but I simply won’t let you think you can have me like that just because you’re you.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“What I mean is that I know you hook up with like hundreds of girls, and I just don’t want to be another name you tick off on your list.”

He looks exasperated. “You think that’s what you are? A name on a list? First of all, I don’t have a fucking list. Secondly, I don’t hook up with hundreds of girls. I haven’t done that since freshman year.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I don’t have the time to hook up with anyone.”

“You haven’t had sex since your freshman year?” Your voice is softer now.

“Not once.”

“Then why did you…” You don’t have to finish the sentence for him to understand it.

“Because I wanted to.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, really. It felt right.”

You would be lying if you say it didn’t feel right for you. But you don’t tell him that. Instead you ask, “Since when have you wanted to?”

He reveals his dimples at that question, “Since you asked me if I would cooperate with you if you tutored me.”

This brings a chuckle to your voice. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, something about you bossing me around was… you know.”

You laugh at his words. “You’re a dumbass,” you say as you lean forward and take his lips to yours.

[darlingshane]

cheers to new traditions

Michael Berzatto x F!Reader

Summary: Though you were the same age, grew up in the same street and went to the same school, you and Michael lived in two different worlds. It isn't until you're both full-grown adults that get the chance to know each other better. It's on Christmas day. He's miserable, you're miserable, and both decide to ditch dinner with your respective families to make your own new tradition.

CW: 18+, smut, some angst, making out, vaginal sex, smoking, smoking weed, drinking alcohol, eating food, childhood neighbors, pet names, reader has tattoos and piercings.

Word Count: 7k

— Links: AO3 // Michael Masterlist.

Michael must get out of the house to get some air before resorting to something more radical to deal with these people. He’s saving that for later, or for when he has no other choice but to. By that time everyone will be so buzzed and no one would be able to tell the difference from him being high or not.

It’s been an hour since guests arrived. The main show hasn’t even started yet, and he’s crawling up the walls already. So, he heads out to have a smoke in the solitude of the cold and an empty street full of cars from people coming over for the holidays to visit their families.

It’s still daylight, but the downcast weather is as grey as his mood.

By the stoop of the house, he lights up a cigarette and looks down at the snow collecting on the pavement's cracks as he takes his first drag. A noise ahead, a door closing, pulls his stare up from the ground to see someone coming out of the neighbors’ house across the street.

It’s you, clad in a dark, short coat with a hood pulled over your head. You turn the corner of the house to stop by the bare tree on the side yard. You seem to have the same idea as him, cause shortly after you lean against the brick wall, you produce a lighter and smoke from your coat’s pocket.

He has to make an effort to remember your name. It takes him a moment cause you two were never friends. Though you're the same age, grew up in the same street, rode the same school bus for many years, and had a couple of classes together, Michael and you lived in two different worlds. He was the popular one, the jock who always got into trouble but hardly ever saw any consequences. And you were a band nerd, who also took pictures for the school paper, and never had more than two close friends. You were basically the definition of what the cool kids considered to be a loser. However, you never felt anything as such. You knew what you liked and stuck to your close-knit group. Whatever other people thought about you and your friends was of little importance.

Through the fog in his mind he fishes a memory of that time you two were paired to work on a project for history class. It was an interesting week to say the least. He did as little as possible and though you were really apathetic about it too, you two managed to get a passing grade.

But there's one thing that juggles his memory to recall every letter of your name and that is realizing that you were, and still are, one of Tiffany's closest friends. She and Richie didn't get together until a couple of years ago, and during that time, Michael and you never even stumble upon the other cause they’ve kept their circles apart.

Michael stares at you for a long minute before deciding to cross to the other side of the street to say hi. Partly cause he's curious to know how your life turned out, and partly cause he'd rather do anything else than go back inside.

You're taking a drag of your smoke when his feet come to a stop right in front of you. The first thing he notices up close it’s that there's no cigarette between your lips. The familiar smell tells him it's a joint. It's held in a hand wearing a fingerless glove that shows chipped nail polish and an array of small tattoos adoring your knuckles.

“What? Do I have something in my face?” a cloud of smoke collides with the icy air as it emerges out of your mouth.

“No, I just… I grew up across the street. I'm-”

“Carmy. Berzatto. I know you,” you interrupt dryly.

“Mikey actually,” he scoffs.

“What do you want, Berzatto?”

He shrugs, tucking his hands in his jeans’ pockets.

“I just wanted to say hi. I don't know if you remember this, but we used to go to school together.”

“Yeah, I remember.” You take another drag and look to the side dismissively.

Michael can take a hint, and that hint tells him that you're not exactly in the mood to talk to him or anyone else for that matter.

He's not sure why he needed to though. If it was just a means to escape his own misery or just because he saw something in you that reminded him of himself.

He starts walking away, mumbling a barely audible “have a nice day,” but your voice stops him in his tracks.

“Do you want a hit?”

Glancing over his shoulder, he sees your hand holding up the joint in his direction. His lips pull up at the corners before accepting your offering.

“Yeah, I'd like that,” he picks it up from your fingers and takes a long puff.

“What are you running from, Berzatto?” you question as he fills his lungs with the intoxicating aroma of your weed.

“I don't know. This fucking day I guess.”

“So you still live at home.” You state, knowing pretty well that he in fact does.

“Something like that. What gave it away?”

You shrug, “woman's intuition I guess. I saw Tate Weems the other day and had the same rugged look of — I don't know what the hell I'm doing with my life. Also, Tiff told me.”

“So first-hand information. No intuition at all. But you're not comparing me to Weems, right?”

“What? You two aren't buddies anymore?”

“I was never buddies with that scumbag. You have to know that.”

And hopes that you do know it, because he'd never associated himself with someone like that. Despite the fact they were in the same team and often had to tolerate the guy for the sake of the game, he'd never call Tate a friend. Especially after what he did to two girls back in school. One of them being one of your closest friends growing up.

“Hm, so you know.”

“I know,” he gently nods, handing your joint back so you can take a hit.

“Heard you beat the shit out of him a few years ago when he came into your shop and that you almost went to jail.”

Michael starts puzzling the pieces together in his mind realizing that you know more than you first led on.

“Tiff again?” His brow raises.

“Richie told me, actually.” You point out before bringing the joint to your lips.

“You know they're having dinner at my place,” his head tilts to the side to point at his house, “you could come in and say hi.”

“I know. They told me.”

“Hm, it looks like they've told you a lot of things, why are you pretending you don’t know who I am?”

“Force of habit. I didn’t want to give you the impression that I’ve ever thought about you.”

“You didn’t want to give me the impression? Why? Have you ever thought about me?” His head leans to the side as one corner of his lips quirks up.

“Not really. Not in the way that you’re implying. If I ever thought of you, it was just me wondering where you ended up.”

“And what did you imagine I'd end up doing?”

“I don't know… Something with sports was my best bet. You seemed really into it back then. Thought you'd go pro.”

“I loved playing, I just wasn't anything stellar. You'd know if you ever went to any of our games.”

“I think I went to a couple. But we'd only hang out in the parking lot and just get blazed.” Drawing a smile you pass the joint to Michael again. “Just like this.”

“I used to get high after the game, so you and me… Not that different.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“So, where did you end up, sweetheart?”

“Take a guess.”

“Shit, I have no idea… I think I saw you around with a camera taking pictures for the school paper, yeah? I could see you doing that or something related to art.”

“I still take pictures as a hobby. But you're not too far off, I'm a tattoo artist.”

“That's neat. You’ll have to show me your work, maybe I'll let you do my next tattoo.”

“I'm pretty good,” you boast, “but yeah, you should come by the shop and see for yourself first.”

“I will,” he lifts the cig up to his mouth.

Talking to you really puts him in a better mood, and vice versa. But it's still not enough for him to rush back home. Despite the cold and him forgetting to put on a jacket, he'd rather freeze his balls off than return to the cursed circus that is the Berzatto household.

“So, what are you running from?” He parrots the same question you asked him a few minutes ago.

You draw a wry smile before answering.

“Same as you, I suppose. This crazy day. We shouldn't have to be forced to socialize with people once a year in the name of tradition. It's like when you were a kid and your mom invited all the kids from your class to your birthday party, even the ones you hate cause she didn't want anyone to be left out.”

“I hear you, sweetheart.”

“It'd be great if we could trade places. If I went to yours, and you went to mine, do you think they'd notice?”

Your quip makes him laugh and hang his head down for a beat. Then, he looks over his shoulder for a moment to gaze at the Berzatto house.

“Here's a better idea… let's get in the car, ditch these assholes, and have dinner somewhere else. Just you and me.” He suggests.

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“You're crazy, Berzatto. We can't just bolt. It's Christmas.”

“Why not? We're two fucking adults, you know what I mean?” His tone turns on a dime from a taciturn speech to pep talk aided with hand movements. “We can do whatever we want. Would you rather spend the day having fun with a semi-stranger like me or be miserable with people you've known your whole life?”

Pressing your teeth on your bottom lip, you consider for a few seconds.

“When you put it like that… What the hell. Let's go.”

“Attagirl.”

You follow Michael closely toward his car, but he realizes that the keys are in the house and in order to leave he'd have to go inside to get them. But that isn't going to stop you.

Your car is just at the end of the street, and conveniently you have everything you need in your coat's pockets, including your car keys, so you take yours instead.

The whole thing is crazy… He's nuts and so are you for following along. But it gives you a rush to quickly steer the car out of the neighborhood before anyone notices. They will, eventually. It's early to tell, there's too many people in the house to say where everyone is at all times. Maybe at actual dinner time they'll notice you're missing but for now, you're just going to enjoy the ride and see where it takes you.

No matter the consequences, this is already better than having to endure another Christmas hearing the same tired arguments with your family, and holding yourself back from punching your cousin's boyfriend for his relentless sexist remarks.

Driving aimlessly for a good fifteen minutes across the city, you suggest a few places but end up settling your destination at The Beef. You've walked by the place a handful of times, but you never stepped inside until now.

There, Michael trades his thermal shirt for a blue, short sleeve t-shirt with the shop's logo, giving you a chance to see the ink adorning his arms. You decide to make pizza from scratch and while you let the dough rise for over an hour, he tells you the story about each of his tattoos.

Music plays in the background to fill the awkward silences while you have a drink and eat some snacks to make time until Michael deems the dough ready to turn into a pizza. Which prompts you to ask several questions about food and the restaurant. You can tell he's quite in his element and it really suits him.

Once he's given shape to the dough, you help him pick and spread an array of toppings on your pizza. His elbow nudges yours as he effortlessly sprinkles a heap of mozzarella on top.

As he puts it on the oven, you sit on the counter and nurse your soda.

“It suits you, you know? This, being a cook,” you tell him as he grabs his drink.

“Yeah?” the corners of his lips automatically quirk up.

“Yeah, I'm kind of impressed, to be honest. I could never whip out pizza dough from scratch that easily. I tried once, but I just don't have the patience for cooking it I guess.”

“Hm, thank you. So, tattooing butts for hours doesn't require patience?”

You snort. “I haven't tattooed that many butts, but it requires more focus than patience.”

“You'll have to show me sometime.”

“How to tattoo asses? Yeah, I could even tattoo yours if you want to.” You say casually, sizing the way his eyebrows raise at your unexpected proposal.

“What would you put on my ass if you could?”

“I don't know… Turn around,” your pointer finger draws a circle in the air, “I need to see the canvas first.”

He plays along and takes a spin around to show you his backside. The kitchen suddenly feels hotter than when you first entered. You draw your eyes down to survey, critically of course, the small, firm shape of his butt, hugged by a pair of jeans.

“Do you want me to pull my pants down?” He smirks, glancing over his shoulder.

“No, I’m good,” you laugh, “you can turn around. I think I got a pretty good idea of what I’d do.”

“Yeah?” he tilts the beer bottle in his hand over his lips.

“Uh-hm, I'd simply put – bite me – one word on each cheek, you know? I've pitched that idea to a few people, but they never went for it.”

“Maybe it’s cause I’m high as fuck, but I’d like that.”

“Yeah, you should mull it over later when it wears off. My rule of thumb is never get a tattoo when you’re high or drunk. You’d be surprised by the atrocities I had to cover up over the years because of that.”

“I bet,” he takes another sip of his beer before pointing at the line art inked on your fingers. “You got more than those?”

“Yeah, I have a few more.” But they’re all covered by a cozy sweater and black jeans.

“Can I see them?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “they’re in very compromising places. If you play your cards right, maybe I’ll show you later.”

“Alright, it’s on, sweetheart,” he bites his lower lip, and takes that as a challenge.

You’re surprised how easy it feels talking to him. You can't recall the last time you clicked with someone that organically fast. Though you were aware of certain aspects of his life, you only knew each other in passing. You always had this idea of him that he was kind of a douche for what you heard about him. And you should know better by now than to pass judgment on people from rumors and gossip.

If you had known he was this delightful, you'd try harder to get to know him earlier.

Before the pizza is out of the oven your phone finally goes off to have someone wondering where the hell you are.

Michael watches you, amused, as you lie your ass off over the phone. You tell your brother you had to leave to take Tiffany to the hospital cause her water broke and Richie was wasted, and you were the only one sober and close enough to drive her.

“You should be ashamed of yourself for using your friend like that,” Michael scoffs, “you better pray nobody sees Tiff the rest of the night.”

“They won't. You should work on your excuse for when you get the inevitable call.”

Michael pulls out the phone from his pocket to see there are a couple of texts from Sugar and another one from Richie.

His expression changes quickly when his smile fades away.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, everything's fine.” He sighs, texting Richie back, almost regretting his decision of ditching Christmas dinner, solely for the fact of leaving Carmy and Nat to deal with hurricane Donna. Nonetheless, they've grown up and don't need Michael to hold their hand anymore.

They'll be okay, he convinces himself.

Despite having second thoughts for just a moment, he really doesn't feel like going back home. He's enjoying your company more than he expected, and he's excited to see where the night leads.

While you devour the delicious pizza you've made together, the conversation flows nicely, jumping from topic to topic, getting a good sense of the other. Though you both seem different at first glance, as you dig deeper into his thoughts, it feels like looking into a mirror. You and Michael have trouble fostering good romantic relationships, neither of you have the best track record. You use humor to mask that unbearable pain you carry, and tend to be really impulsive. Being here is proof of that last one. But you do share some good traits too… you're both also undeniably loyal to your friends, wildly independent, and have no problem speaking your mind, which can be troubling sometimes.

There's a certain ease in the way he looks at you that makes your heart soar in ways you haven't felt in s long time. Perhaps it’s the weed talking, but there’s definitely a raw electricity bubbling surrounding the table you’re sitting at. And the longer you stay together, the more you feel like doing something you might regret.

This is not how you saw today going, but it's certainly a welcome change from the tired Christmas traditions and family matters. Which might sound selfish but neither you nor Michael would be in the first place if you had healthier relationships with your relatives.

“I don't think pizza ever tasted this good,” you say after finishing your last slice.

“You should send your compliments to the chef.”

“I could even kiss him,” you blurt out without thinking, and watch his eyes grow wide from across the table. “Do you think he'd like that?”

“I uh… I think he'd love that.” Michael licks his lips, drawing a grin.

There's a moment of silence as you stare at the other, capturing that sizzling electricity that's daring you to taste his mouth.

You lift your glass of water and take a sip first before leaning over the table to follow that impulse.

“My compliments to the chef,” you murmur under a breath an inch away from his mouth. The hairs of his beard prick your skin before fully pressing a chaste kiss on his lips. They're warm and soft, just like you’ve been imagining for the past hour.

He desperately wants to dive deeper just as much as you do, but after a couple of seconds you manage to hold that urge and pull back.

“Hm, thanks, sweetheart,” he utters when you settle your back against the chair and offers his beer bottle up in your direction. “Cheers to new traditions.”

“Cheers,” you clink your glass with his bottle and take a sip together of your respective drinks.

“Should we maybe start cleaning up?” you clear your throat, and gesture at the table, almost spoiling the moment.

“Is that really what you want?” His brow playfully lifts.

“No, that’s not what I want.”

“Why would you suggest that, then?”

“I guess I’m just trying to give you an out. We had a perfect evening. If we keep going down this path, we might do something that could potentially ruin it. Unless that’s what you want.”

“I don’t want an out and I don’t think there’s nothing we can do to ruin this.”

“No? Then what do you wanna do, Michael Berzatto?”

His eyes pin you a look that almost sets you ablaze. “You. I wanna do you.”

“Yeah?” Given that you started this, you could let him do the next move, but you’d be damned to wait like an idiot for him to make the move after having him say that with such conviction. So, you stand up, walk around the table to straddle his lap. His hands are drawn automatically to your hips, inviting you to get comfortable.

Under a very dim light of the orange neon sign illuminating his face, Michael mirrors your smile as you cup his face in your hands, leaning closer to capture his lips once more, with feeling. He's quick to respond to the urgency of your tongue, delving past the front lines of your teeth without hesitation. It takes you a moment to grasp a good rhythm together but once you're there, nothing can't stop the fervent desire of that unholy union.

It's hot and messy and utterly intoxicating.

You hold tight to his neck while he digs his fingers at the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against his center, letting you feel the hardness of his bulge growing beneath thick denim layers.

“Hm,” his breath catches, and he breaks the kiss to ask. “Have I earned seeing your tattoos?”

You scoff, wiping the corner of your mouth with a thumb.

“You definitely have.”

This time, before you can take off your sweater, he's the one gripping the hem and sliding it up your torso, pulling it over your head, exposing your bra. Your skin is kept warm under his palms when he places them on your sides while he admires the collection of tattoos on your arms, chest that spread to your back. There's one in particular that sits between your breasts that catches his eye. It's partially covered by your bra, but he can clearly see a snake coiled around a dagger. He uses his point finger to pull down gently to see it fully.

He draws the snake softly with his fingertip, making your skin buzz before noticing the twin studs of your piercings adorning your erected nipples, poking behind the delicate fabric of your bra.

Pressing his teeth to his lip, he lets his wandering fingers invite themselves to touch one of your pierced nipples over the cotton layer.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Your core twitches at the way his voice husks paired with the pressure of his thumb playing with the barbell attachment.

“Yeah, it feels real good,” you sigh in bliss as he tugs the cup of your bra to uncover your tit and feel your skin across the pad of his thumb.

“Does it feel better with piercings?”

“Definitely,” you wink at him.

“You're so damn sexy,” he breathes, locking his lust-drown eyes with yours as he removes your bra completely.

Baring your teeth, you respond by sliding one of your hands down to his crotch to caress the hard bulge straining the blue denim. You curl your fingers around it, watching him struggle to bury a grunt in his throat. He curses a “fuck” instead and forces himself to inhale deeply.

You observe his mouth up close as his tongue juts out to wet his lips before dipping his head to kiss your pointed peak.

It sends chills down your spine to have the tip of his tongue playfully swirling around the piercing before sucking your nipple between his lips. Your core is most pleased and excited, and you can feel it in the way your walls slick.

He's fully grown in your fist when you feel an intermittent buzz near your hand.

“Is your dick vibrating?”

“It's my phone,” he scoffs, releasing your nipple.

“Oh. Right.”

“There,” he quickly pulls his device from his pocket and tosses it on the table without looking at it.

It keeps buzzing while he dives to mouth to put neck, tickling your skin with his beard.

You try to focus again, but his phone keeps going off.

“Maybe you should pick it up.” You suggest.

Michael pulls his head back with a sigh and checks it up just in case. There are a handful of texts and calls from Richie and Nat, asking him to come back home because Donna got into a car accident. They say specifically that she drove the car into the house which it's something he has trouble imagining. That's borderline, even for Donna.

As quick as it started, it ends. His buzz is killed again by his own mother.

He doesn't give you the details right away, all he asks is for you to drive him back. It's during that drive that he tries to explain it with the little details he knows.

The siren lights are quickly on sight as soon as you enter the street. There’s an ambulance and a police car park in front of the Berzatto house when you drop him off.

He rushes out of the car without so much as a goodbye, which you completely understand. There are neighbors scattered all over the street, watching the shitshow. You have to drive a couple streets over to find a decent parking stop. Then you walk back to your parents’ house just as they are serving dessert. They aren’t creeping in the streets like the rest, but they still peek out the window, trying to find out what’s going on.

You climb upstairs to your old room. Sitting in the dark, you look out the window, having front row tickets to witness a tow truck coming into the scene to pull out the car that’s been shoved right through the facade. A couple of police officers go around taking statements from the Berzattos and friends, and some of the closest neighbors. They ring the bell at your house at some point too. The ambulance drives away with Donna and Natalie in the back.

People go back into their homes as the commotion slowly clears out. You see Tiff leaving with Richie, and at the end there’s only Michael, his brother, and one of their uncles you can’t name left in there, assessing the aftermath of the crash.

They stay there, guarding the house until the Faks come back to board up the hole in the wall as a temporary measure.

By the time you leave your parents’ house, they’re still working tirelessly under the freezing veil of the night to cover that up.

You don’t see him, and he doesn’t see you leave either.

It's a shame the night had to end like that. You're not a stranger to bizarre situations, but Donna Berzatto driving her car into the house was beyond perplexing.

When you finally pull up in the parking space in your building's garage you notice there's a zippo lighter with a Red Sox’s logo on the side left on the passenger seat that you don't recognize. It must have fallen from Michael's pocket. So, you keep it safe to give it to maybe use it as an excuse to show up sometime by his joint and give it back.

A couple of days pass, and you are still holding onto that lighter, unable to build up the courage to return it.

You had a moment together. A very beautiful, sexy moment you won't ever forget but is it enough to justify you showing up out of the blue? Perhaps. You've never doubted yourself like this before. And it takes you until the day before New Year's Eve to finally push yourself to stop by The Beef.

Richie is up front, ringing customers. His blue eyes widen when he sees you waiting in line.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“It's good to see you too, jagoff. Is that how you greet all your customers?” you scoff.

“No, sorry. I just wasn't expecting you.”

“Yeah, well, first time for everything, right?”

“Right. So it doesn't have anything to do with you stealing Mikey on Christmas.”

“I don't know what he's told you, but it was his idea. Anyway, is he around? He left something in my car.”

“What? His dignity?”

“Shut up, Richard. Is he around or not?” you glance over the service window to the kitchen but can't quite tell if he's there or not.

“He's out back having a smoke. Go to the left, bend the corner past the parking lot. Find the red fence by the trash cans,” he gestures directions with a hand.

“Got it.”

You head out, following Richie's directions toward the back door of The Beef to find him there, pacing the length of the fence with a cigarette in his hand.

“Hey, Berzatto.”

As Michael turns around his face beams up quickly in surprise.

“Oh, hey. Shit, I didn't know you were coming.”

“Yeah, sorry. I thought about calling, but I didn't get your number and with everything you got going on… I didn’t wanna bother you. Here,” you offer the zippo in his direction, “you left it in my car.”

“Appreciate it,” he half smiles, tucking it into his pocket. “I’ve been meaning to call too. I got your number from Richie. But uh… I guess I felt weird using it. I didn't think you'd wanna see me again after what happened.”

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?”

“That we are.”

You both softly laugh for a second.

“How’s everything? Is Donna okay?”

“That’s a loaded question. But considering what happened and what it could’ve been… everyone’s fine. And Donna… She's Donna.” He resigns, sinking his head between his shoulders.

“What about you?”

“I uh… I’ve been staying with Richie for a couple of days until I find a place. I just needed to get out of there, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it.”

He throws the butt of his cigarette to the ground and puts it off with the toe of his shoe.

“Did I ruin our moment the other night?”

You shake your head, “you didn’t ruin anything, Michael. I had a great time with you. I hope you know that.”

“Yeah? I had a great time too.”

“Hm… maybe we should finish what we started sometime if you’re up for it.”

“Yeah, I… I’d love that, sweetheart,” he pauses for a moment to lick his lips before confessing. “For the sake of honesty, I should tell you that you left something here too.”

“What did I leave?”

“You should see for yourself.”

He beckons you to follow into the kitchen through the staff door and into his office. He closes the door and out of one of his drawers he pulls out your bra. Of course, you left that.

“Came here early the next day and found it on the floor.”

“God, I didn’t even notice. I’m such an idiot sometimes.”

“We were high as fuck, don’t be too hard on yourself.”

“Well, thanks for keeping it safe I guess,” you shove it into your bag and clear your throat. “Be honest, would you have given it back if I hadn’t come here?”

“Huh?” he half laughs, “what do you think I am? Some kind of pervert that keeps trophies of their hookups?”

“No. I didn't say that. Just wondering.”

“You know… I wasn't sure if I was gonna see you again or not, but it wasn't my intention to keep it. I guess I was hoping I could give it back if that meant I could talk to you again.”

“That's a good answer.”

“So, about that thing we gotta finish…”

“Right. I’m free tonight if you wanna come over.”

“Straight to the point. I like that.”

“I’m not a fan of wasting time.”

“Yeah, yeah, me neither,” he scoffs. “We close at ten, I could be there before midnight.”

“Okay, give me your phone.”

He hands you his phone so you can call your number to have his registered on your phone and then put your address in his contacts.

“Text me if you change your mind. No hard feelings if you do, but don’t leave me waiting like an asshole, got it?” you give him a warning look as you hand the phone back.

“Yes, ma’am.”

He places it on the desk, and before you can leave out the door, he grabs your waist and gently pushes your back against the wall.

You swallow as his lips lean closer to whisper in your ear. “I promise I won’t leave you hanging. I haven’t stopped thinking about you, sweetheart. It’s… it’s the only thing that’s kept me going these past few days.”

He kisses your cheek while your lips curve into a grin, saying back, “I haven't stopped thinking about you either.”

“That's good,” he hums at the curve of your neck, scratching your skin with the coarse hairs of his beard, inhaling your scent as you slip your fingers at the back of his nape.

One hand draws the curve of your ass, at the same time his lips part to leave a wet kiss on your neck before finding your lips. Using his tongue as bait, you fall easily into the alluring trap of his mouth. The kiss is slow but firm, offering you a taste of what's to come. You can feel his excitement in every swirl and the way he presses his body against yours, hoping there would be no layers in between.

You'd fuck him right here, right now if you could. But alas, everything good comes to an end and once more, The Beef is proven to be the worst place for a hookup when Richie knocks on the door, calling Michael's name.

Separating your lips, you both let out a tired sigh, pull yourselves together before opening the door.

Anxiously waiting for Michael to show up at the end of the day, you order some food, take a nice bath and pamper yourself for the occasion. You put on some makeup, do your hair and rummage the bottom drawer of your dresser where you keep your sexiest lingerie. You choose a lacy set of your favorite color that suits your body perfectly. On top of that, you put on a t-shirt dress with the logo of your favorite band.

Michael texts you when he’s on the way, and you go around the apartment one more time to make sure nothing is out of place.

It's close to midnight when Michael shows up with a bottle of wine in his hands.

“You look nice,” his mouth says nice, but his eyes are clearly devouring you from the dark hollow of his browns.

“Thank you. You clean up good too, Berzatto.” You can tell by his new outfit that doesn’t include a logo of the beef printing on his chest, and the fresh cologne smell that follows him into your space. He’s trimmed the edges of his beard too. The cut is cleaner below his cheeks that light up in the warmth of your home.

To get in the mood, you first settle at the breakfast bar where you two share a glass of wine and some light conversation about your day. A couple of sips is enough for you to lean in closer and kiss him. You don’t wanna be too loopy for this so you choose to make a move before emptying your glass. He doesn’t protest. He gladly welcomes you into invading his space, tasting the striking red spirit lingering in his tongue. It’s a gentle dance at first. Once it grows restless, there’s no way to stop it. You make your way into the bedroom, leaving a trail of discarded clothes on the floor until your back hits the mattress.

You didn’t think his eyes could turn darker, but they do. They’re like two apache tears recently collected from lava, almost iridescent at the glow of a night lamp nearby. He observes you from above, capturing the beauty of your body wrapped only in the skimpy lingerie you picked and all the inked art.

Michael bends forward, sans shirt, smoothing a palm at the curve of your ass protected by the shape of a dragon.

“Did you put these on for me, sweetheart?” one of his fingers playfully tugs the elastic of your panties on the side of your hip, making it snap against your skin.

Biting your lip, you nod, and beckon him to come closer.

He still has his jeans on when he settles between your legs, allowing you to feel how hard you’ve made him. It’s his time now to seize your mouth as if he was dying of drought. Your lips bruise at the unwavering frenzy of his kiss. His hips press and press firmer between your legs, stirring a longing of arousal to pool in the sheer fabric of your panties.

He pulls his head back, leaving you panting to pepper your chest with kisses instead. His beard leads the way, prickling your skin before his lips and teeth touch the surface. He pushes your bra down to expose your tits. Drawn to the metal adorning your peaks his tongue juts out to play with them.

You push one of your hands between your bodies to open his fly and measure his hardness on your hand. He adjusts his hips slightly up to make some room for you. His cock barely fits in the curl of your fingers when you pump his shaft down a few times over the texture of his underwear.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me come.” His breathing falters, turns into a grunt, when you tug his underwear down to feel his skin directly against your palm.

“It's okay if you do. I don't mind,” you run the tip of your tongue along his cupid's bow when he lifts his head to look at you.

“You don't, don't you?” one of his hands slots between your legs, cupping your pussy.

You shake your head. “I wanna make you come.”

“Yeah?” he purrs, rubbing his nose against your cheek. “Wanna make you come too, sweetheart.”

“Then take these off, babe.” You order, giving a small tug to the waistband of his jeans.

Michael rolls to the side and quickly slips the rest of his clothes off while you kneel on the mattress and reach to pick up a condom from the nightstand.

His hands are fast to rid you off your lingerie and invite his palms to touch every inch of your skin while you get into position. You end up on top of him, rolling the condom on his generous erection before sinking onto it. Even though your walls are tender and sick to welcome the stretch, it takes you a moment to slowly take him during that first descent. You have to adjust your hips twice before you can fully fill yourself with his cock.

His enthralling stare stays on you, capturing every gesture, every breath, every move you make that renders him speechless. His heart races when you brace a palm on his chest while you use your opposite hand to rub your clit. He's never seen or had anyone or anything more beautiful than you on top of him, fucking him like this. It's absolutely enticing to have someone like you confidently ride his body to the maximum pleasure.

All his blood and thought nicely flows down to his center and has to make an effort to distract himself from coming too soon. He uses that moment to carve every curve and landmark of your body in his hands. He inspects every tattoo, tracing them in his memory to keep himself from spilling inside you.

When you grow used to the position, you bend forward, tucking your arms against his chest. You capture his mouth, and keep your hips rocking steady, gradually faster, while he keeps his fingers glued to your ass, aiding your moves.

“God, you feel so good,” you hum softly into the kiss and his cock twitches inside you.

He groans into the kiss, mumbling a “fuck, you feel amazing, sweetheart”, and uses his grip on your ass to move you faster.

Taking the hint, you hold yourself up, straightening your posture. You clutch your palms to his broad chest firmly, while your hips pick up the pace. His body vibrates beneath you pounce after pounce. His fingers skin deep at your skin, the closer you ride him to the edge. You exert your body shamelessly bouncing on his dick until you reach that final line. He squirms and grunts and struggles to breathe while you tirelessly earn his orgasm. His cock jerks wildly inside you, prompting your own walls to tremble and collapse around him as you come undone.

Your body is still shaking when you slip him out of you and fall limp on top of his torso. His arms curl sweetly around your back, soothing your spine with a hand, as you place your head on his shoulder.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” his voice comes out breathless.

“Yeah, I’m good… that was… amazing.” You draw some air to keep your voice even. “You want me to get off you?”

“No, please. You don’t have to move, sweetheart, I got you.” he laughs softly, tightening his hold around you.“And yeah, that was… amazing. You’re amazing.” He repeats for lacking better words to express how good it felt to finally have you like this.

“Do you wanna repeat later?”

“Oh, absolutely,” he responds so quickly it makes you chuckle.

You finally lift your head to look at him and capture the stunning afterglow of his orgasm illuminating his face. He looks tired but utterly overjoyed

“Cheers to new traditions, yeah?”

“Cheers, sweetheart,” he says and you both touch your lips together once more.

[cici-sunshine]

I just had (in my opinion) a fucking amazing idea for a story after looking at this post (which is amazing by the way)

Okay just imagine this… Sukuna x Reader but with the AU in which sukuna is yuijs older brother.

So now there are two different “scenarios”

1. Sukuna and Yuji have a relatively small age gap. You’re one of Yujis closest friends and hang out at his pretty often. Yuji is just such a sunshine, just a positive person in general. His older brother how ever not so much. He’s just a troublemaker through and through. He got his face pierced, smokes and even got some tattoos behind his parent’s back (also may I add he’s 100% a biker or drives an amazing black car). Sukuna and Yuji have a pretty typical sibling relationship. They both care for each other but don’t get along that well (typical around that age I guess). You first meet Sukuna when you have a sleepover at Yujis house. He invited you (and Megumi and Nobara) because his parents were gone for the weekend. At around 2 am you still lay awake on the mattress in the living room, the others are already fast asleep. Suddenly you hear the jiggling of keys in front of the door. At first you’re scared, cause who the hell is at the door at this hour. Then the door opens and Sunkuna in all his glory is standing just a few feet away from you…

The second scenario is 100% inspired by THIS

2. This time Sukuna and Yuji have a big age gap alright. So you’re in Sukunas class. You don’t necessarily get along that well but you’re not on bad terms either. You both just don’t acknowledge each others presence more than necessary I guess. Everyone is living in the dorms except for Sukuna. At first everyone wondered why and some even came up with the weirdest theories as to why. The school year is almost at its end so that means it’s time for a school trip. Everyone is excited except for Sukuna. That wasn’t necessarily weird considering that he never showed his emotions much in general. What made you suspicious is the fact that he stayed behind after class to talk to the teacher (Gojo duh) even tho he’s usually the first one out the door at the end of class. Being the curious person you are, you stay behind too and eavesdrop on their conversations. Sukuna says something about not being able to go to the school trip and the teacher knowing why. To which the teacher only responds with words of understanding and support. That only confuses you even more. You follow Sukuna home (Funking stalker tf) because you’re determined to find out what he’s hiding. You follow him thinking he’ll just go straight home or to some shady place of sorts. But to your surprise he heads to a kindergarten!? You wait outside just to see him walk out of there with a much smaller copy of him. Only problem is that this small copy is looking directly at you. You quickly try to walk away and act like you’re just there by accident, but it’s too late. The little guy is pointing directly at you and before you can really react you can hear Sukuna say “what the hell are you doing here?!”…

Okay so that was that lol. Im so sorry for my grammar English is not my first language.

Do these “scenarios” have fanfic or oneshot potential or am I literally the only one that’s a sucker for big bro sukuna

I’d love to write a whole fic about the second one because I have literally so many ideas but I’m not sure if it would be good or if literally anyone would enjoy it haha.

I’m always open for feedback, suggestions and responses 🩵

[also just to clarify in advance I’m sure this isn’t that much of a original idea but I’d still love to write something like that (maybe lol)]

~Rules~

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Where do we go from here - Part 1

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2764

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

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Empty.

That’s how you felt. Empty and utterly exhausted. Your eyes were dried and throat scratchy from all the crying, body aching with pain and mind a foggy haze. Forty eight hours it had been since you received the news of the car crash.

James Rhodes. Your husband. Dead.

Pepper Potts. Your best friend. Dead.

You received a call from the hospital while you were wrapping James’ birthday present. A birthday that never arrived. Instead a funeral did. Two consecutive ones. You hadn’t felt grief like this ever.

The service ended, you shook hands and hugged countless people, nodding along as they offered condolences, wanting nothing more than to head home, crash in your bed and never wake up. But you couldn’t. There was another funeral you had to attend, your best friend Pepper’s, you didn’t know if you could go through it all again.

But you had to.

A couple of moments later, you managed to slip away and found yourself sitting on a bench overlooking the graves. The day was actually sunny and bright, wildflowers littered along the gravestones as a gentle breeze blew. What a day for a funeral, you thought sadly.

Not long after you sat, you smelled cigarette smoke in the air before Tony Stark took a seat next to you. Tony was one of your closest family friends, well, he was your husband’s best friend. They practically grew up together, went to school, university and eventually ended up buying houses close to each other too. By way of default, when Pepper and him got married, it brought the four of you closer. She was your best friend and James was his.

It was perfect.

Your mind went back to the last dinner the four of you had at your place, it was only three days ago. Just a day before the accident.

“Here’s to celebrating milestones in friendships!”

James raised his whiskey glass, making you, Tony and Pepper follow suit before you clinked them together with warm smiles. You had cooked a nice dinner to celebrate a year of moving into this home you shared with your loving husband. It may as well have been just an excuse to get together with your friends, which happened too often.

“Thank you for dinner, Y/N. It was delicious. And the blueberry pie too! It is Tony’s favorite.” Pepper announced, making you smile at her husband who returned it, albeit reluctantly. There was something about the way he looked at you, it made you nervous, not in a bad way, per se. It was like he could stare into soul.

“It’s Y/N’s favorite as well.” James chimed in, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

While you cleaned up in the kitchen, Pepper coaxed James to let her take the new SUV out for a spin. She had been trying to persuade Tony to get the same model but apparently he wasn’t too keen on letting his Audi R8 go.

“You think I could sneak in an extra piece of pie?” Tony’s voice took you by surprise as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh! I thought you went along with James and Pep?”

“I mean it was either a piece of pie or Pepper yapping my ear off about how my R8 isn’t exactly ‘fit to be a family car’.” he shrugged, making you chuckle as you took out the remaining pie from the fridge and cut him another slice.

You were suddenly aware of your heartbeat as Tony leaned over to grab the plate from you, the close proximity unfamiliarly welcoming. His fingers grazed over yours ever so lightly, leaving their presence to linger.

What was even going on?

Tony was a good-looking man, there wasn’t a question. He had a handsome face with an impeccably maintained beard that only seemed to suit him best. And his eyes. A light brew of your favorite coffee, the brown doe eyes held as much kindness as they held self assurance. Deep down, you felt an attraction towards the man. It was harmless, wasn’t it?

Only time would tell.

“Y/N?” Tony’s fingers snapped you back to reality, making you realize he had asked you a question.

“Yeah?”

“You went into one of your zones again, didn’t you?” He smiled, taking a bite of the pie and letting out a moan of delight.

“Sorry. One of my zones?”

“Yeah. Your mind tends to wander off when the conversation isn’t interesting for you. I’ve observed.” He wasn’t wrong. The fact that he noticed and pointed it out made your cheeks flush.

“Sorry about that. It’s nothing really. I was just thinking about the time we first got together. I—I mean the four of us.”

“Right. It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“It was at one of your famous parties. I walked in looking to have a good time, you and I had one too many whiskies and the next thing I know Pepper dragged you back to your house and James ended up dropping me home. And the rest is history.”

“The rest is history.” Tony repeated with a small chuckle as memories of that evening played out in his head.

“Sometimes I wonder if…um. Nevermind.” He shrugged, cutting his sentence short leaving you to frown.

“If what? Go on.”

You saw him take in a deep breath, release it slowly before facing you fully after he kept the plate away.

“I wonder if the whole opposites attract thing truly worked out for us. Or we just settled because it was obvious.”

Tony’s words stuck with you long after that night was over. As did the look he gave you. It had longing and hints of regret. Something that reflected in your eyes as well.

You must’ve been crying again because Tony reached out to wipe tears that had escaped, offering you a cigarette which you accepted, filling your lungs with smoke and closing your eyes.

“You know, I spent half of yesterday just staring at my bottle of sleeping pills, wondering if it would hurt less if I just took them.” you murmured, staring into the distance. The void inside your chest seemed perpetual and only growing, there was no relief, no end to this pain.

Tony remained silent, he probably had the same thoughts running through his mind. But you couldn’t tell. He slid closer, placing his arm over the backrest of the bench.

“I need to speak to you about the accident, Y/N. I found out some things that you have the right to know too.” his brown eyes bore into yours, letting you know the urgency in his voice.

“Tell me now.” Shaking his head, Tony stubbed his cigarette and got up.

“Tomorrow. Come home and we’ll talk.”

“But it’s Pepper’s funeral–”

“I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Tomorrow.”

You were taken aback, watching him walk towards his car before driving off while you sat on the bench, a mess of complex emotions.

.

Your right foot was bouncing against the sofa as you waited for Tony, his house felt oddly quiet and dark now that Pepper was no longer around. Safe to say your own home wasn’t exactly in the best condition either. You couldn’t remember the last time you cleaned, or had a proper meal.

He returned with a familiar looking overnight bag, some papers and a phone. As he laid them out in front of you, a pit began forming in your stomach. This couldn’t be what you were thinking it could be. It couldn’t.

“This is what they recovered from the accident. The bag was in the trunk, the phone was found a few feet away and this.”

He handed you the papers first, it looked like a confirmation of a hotel booking, a hotel located just on the outskirts of the town. It was booked under James Rhodes. Why would he check into a hotel when he was supposed to be out of town for a conference?

“I don’t understand..” you trailed off, not really wanting to know the details but Tony handed you the phone next. What you read, broke your heart into a million pieces. The doubts that you tried to push down resurfaced and had materialized right in front of your eyes.

They were chats. Chats between Pepper and James. Your husband and Tony’s wife.

Your eyes burned but no tears came, you felt betrayed, hurt and angry like you hadn’t ever. It was months and months of private conversations between them, you hadn’t even noticed Pepper’s name saved with a heart emoji on James’s phone, right below was your last message to him, checking up on him to see if he reached safely.

You turned to look at Tony who sat with his arms crossed, jaw ticking and hands balled up against his sides. He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head before getting up to stand in front of the window that overlooked their huge backyard.

“Why didn’t–um, why didn’t the cops bring this to me?” you found your voice again but barely recognized it. It was hoarse from lack of use and weak, fearful of what you’d hear next.

“I asked them not to,” he replied quietly.

“Why?”

“Why? Seriously? You think you would’ve handled it well, Y/N? Given the things you said to me, I would be arranging for a third funeral right about now!” Tony didn’t mean to yell, but he did, because he shared your hurt and pain. He immediately regretted it watching you crumble on the floor, clutching the phone to your chest as you sobbed.

Dropping on his knees, he gathered you in his arms and let you cry, your tears soaked his shirt as you wept, body racking in pain while he held you. Your breath was still uneven but your tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a million questions.

“It had been going on for longer than a year, Y/N.” as if reading your mind, Tony mumbled, his voice muffled against your hair.

“I don’t want to believe it, Tony.”

He hugged you tighter, providing you the comfort you needed, wanted even, his presence grounded you, his scent calmed you.

“You’re staying here.” he declared once you separated, wiping tears from your cheeks and making you look up at him.

“I–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to. You’re hurting, Y/N. We both are. I don’t think I could live with myself with you gone as well. I can’t.” Tony whispered, resting his forehead against yours, pleading you to stay.

He was right. You couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that house which you shared with James, your husband, also the man who had been cheating on you with your best friend for months. Given a choice, you would probably set it on fire to bury all the memories and destroy them. It wasn’t your happy home anymore.

“Will you stay?”

You nodded as he helped you back up, walking you up the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

“Wait, I can’t stay in the–”

“The guest bedroom is on your left. I’ve been sleeping there. I’ll take the other one. I can’t sleep in our bedroom either.” Tony’s lips were pressed in a thin line, fingers trembling before he hid them in his pockets.

Of course. It was hard for him too. You wondered if he had the same thoughts of burning the house down. You two were in the same boat, one that was drowning in a sea of sorrow, betrayal and tainted memories.

And now all you had was each other.

.

Moonlight streamed through the windows as you lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, sleep had evaded you. Checking the clock, it stated it was way past midnight, you turned to your side to attempt a small nap if your mind allowed; however a dull crash fell on your ears from downstairs, making you jump out of bed and scramble to the source.

It was Tony.

Eyes brimmed with tears, a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting atop the kitchen counter and shards of broken glass on the floor. As you stepped closer, you saw a broken picture frame as well, one that housed Tony and Pepper’s wedding day photo, both wide eyed and grinning ear to ear, now with a huge crack along the surface.

“Tony?” you treaded carefully, your voice barely over a whisper as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

His tense muscles relaxed under your touch, a sigh leaving his lips.

“She took a pregnancy test, Y/N.” he murmured so quietly you almost missed it. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard him. You knew Tony and Pep had been trying for a kid for a while now, Tony wanted a child more than anything.

“Oh my God.” You croaked, rubbing his back in attempts to comfort him as you saw his eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart breaking for him.

“Now I can’t even know if it was mine. She was fucking pregnant!” He smashed the glass of whiskey on the opposite wall, the two of you watching the liquid stream down in little rivulets, joining the shattered glass.

Tony’s breaths were coming in erratic and shallow, his eyes unfocused, he was struggling to stand upright.

“Tony hey! Look at me, come on. Let’s get you over here.” You supported him until he was sitting on the barstool while you took a seat opposite him. Bringing your hands up to cup his face, you made him look into your eyes.

“Breathe for me, please. It’s okay.”

You sounded unsure but you hoped it was helping him, he was trying his level best to focus on your words but it was hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, all other voices drowning as sweat lined on his forehead.

“Tony. Come on. I know you can do this. Focus. Just breathe.” You placed one of his hands on your chest, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, waiting for him to follow.

It took a few beats but eventually you succeeded in getting him back to normal. He squeezed your hand gratefully, nodding his head to let you know he was alright. You grabbed him a water before pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, neither of you bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

You sat together in silence, pondering over what your lives had become in a span of a week. The alcohol definitely helped, numbed your pain and made you drowsy.

The sun was starting to rise outside, a dull, gray light filtering through the windows letting you know it was dawn. The word exhausted seemed to be synonymous with your daily routine, it was all you ever felt. You took your empty glass and were heading for the sink when Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” The uncertainty in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings.

“Just to keep this. Tony, I’m right here.” You reassured the man who followed you into the kitchen, as if to make sure you wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden.

“Will you leave me?” He whispered shakily.

This wasn’t a side of Tony you had ever seen. You were used to the confident, sassy man who joked around and made you laugh.

“I can’t deal with the pain alone. Stay. Please. You’re all I have, Y/N.”

There wasn’t a muscle in your body that protested, not that you wanted to anyways. Laying his head against your chest, he hugged you, holding onto you with all his might.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you need.”

“You will?”

He felt you nod as your fingers carded through his hair, calming his nerves and reassuring him of your presence. He didn’t know how long it would take for you both to recover, but as long as you were with him and he with you, he felt some semblance of hope. That eventually everything could be okay.

“Of course. You’re all I have too.”

[joeybsversion]

Since Her

Joe Burrow x Reader

Joe dates his teammates little sister

The low buzz of your phone distracted you from your show again.

Joey: Come over

You rolled your eyes before sending off your response “aren’t you with the guys?” And turned your attention back to the TV.

Another buzz. “I’m never going to get through this episode.” You grumbled to yourself.

Joey: Yeah but you can come

Joey: please

You turned your attention back to the TV, ignoring your phone. Another string of buzzes distracts you again. This time though, it was a phone call.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Are you coming?” Joe asked.

“Joey.” You giggled. “You’re with the boys. And my brother is there. It’s awkward.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re my girl and you’re my priority.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his response. “You know Sam doesn’t like the idea of us being together.”

“Please.”

“Fine.” You said, giving in and climbing from your bed to get ready.

You quickly fixed your makeup and slipped out of your sweats. “So much for getting caught up on my shows.” You clicked the TV off and headed out the door.

Joe was having a small party at his place with some of his closest friends from the team. One of them being your older brother, Sam Hubbard. Sam did not like the idea of you and Joe together and made it extremely clear.

You anxiously pulled into Joes driveway, bracing yourself for your brothers reaction when he saw you come in.

You knuckles met the wood of the door as you knocked.

“What are you doing here?” Sam growled as he opened the door.

“I’m here to see Joe.” You stepped around him and made your way inside.

“You’re not. Because Joe knows better.” He grabbed you by the wrist.

“Sam. Stop.” You pulled your arm away.

“I’m serious. I told the team they have to keep their hands off my little sister.”

You glared. “You invoked a team wide hands off law? Are you kidding me?”

“Of course I did.” He answered smugly.

“Who does that, Sam? You can’t just go around and tell the team they’re not allowed to date me or you’ll kick their ass.”

“I didn’t tell the whole team. Do I look like I have that kind of time?” He flashes a grin. “I told Joe.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You rolled your eyes. “Why can’t you just let me be happy?”

“Here’s the thing, I don’t give a fuck if he’s a multimillionaire, or the king of England, you’re not dating him.”

“And you’re done telling me what I can and can’t do.” You turned your back and walked away through the house to find Joe.

“Hi Joey.” You smile at him as you find the quarterback in the crowd of people.

“Baby.” He smiled and ran his hands along your sides, pulling you into him until your chests are touching. You look up at him and he kisses you, sliding his arms around your waste with something that feels a lot like possession. You could feel Sam’s stare burning into the back of your head.

“Your brothers staring.” Joe nervously laughed before pulling you in for another kiss.

“Good.” You laughed and kissed him back.

“Do you wanna go outside?” Joe pulled a cigar from his pocket and flashed you a cheeky grin.

“Sure.” You smiled and took his hand, following him out back.

You could hear the music from the party outside. The weather was cooler and it was a perfect fall night. You slowly danced and swayed to the music as Joe pressed the cigar to his lips, getting a light buzz from the nicotine.

“Are you trying to seduce me? Out here dancing wearing this?” He questioned.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“It makes me think of you not wearing it.”

“Joe.” You muttered as he kissed down the side of your face.

“I want you so bad right now. But I can’t” he groaned, continuing to kiss down your neck.

“They’ve got you too, with these superstitions?” You pouted.

“Sam believes it.”

“Now you bring up my brother.” You laughed. “You really are trying to kill the mood.”

“I clearly and specifically told you, no sex after a home game win. It’s bad luck.” He blew out a puff of smoke from his cigar.

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re seducing me again.”

“What? How?” You laughed.

He shook his head, grabbing you by the hand. “Cmon, let’s go back inside.”

As you stepped back in the door you could feel Sams gaze on you again. You were sure he had just witnessed that incident outside and there was no way he’d be happy about it.

You can feel the tension in the air engulf you as Sam walks over and places a hand on Joe’s shoulder.

“Let’s go.” He flashes his cigar at Joe before leading him back outside. You stayed put in your spot.

Joe raises a cocky eyebrow and chuckles as he puts his cigar back between his lips. “I like her Sam.” He admits. “I really fucking like her.”

“Maybe that’s true.” Sam lights his cigar. “But what happens when you get bored in a week or a month or a year from now?” He lowers his voice ensuring no one else can hear. “You’re gonna break her heart, bro.”

“No I’m not.” He says simply, looking over his shoulder to watch you through the window. “I’m not that guy anymore.”

“Since when?”

He shrugs and blows his smoke out, grinning to himself. “Since her.”

[thisisntablogspost]

Say You’re Mine - Miniseries

Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warning: MDNI! This miniseries contains triggers that may cause a negative effect to the consumer. This includes cheating, forced proximity, toxic dom/sub dynamics, unhealthy relationships, alcohol, coercion, manipulation, oral (f & m receiving), unprotected piv (don’t do this). The reader is consenting and allows these things to happen to them.

Authors note: I want to apologize for the delay in putting out part three! Thank you all for the feedback. I’m so glad y’all are enjoying the miniseries! I hope you enjoy part three! If this isn’t something you don’t want to read please avoid and I’ll catch you on the next one! If I missed any other triggers please dm me so I can add them. I want you all to be safe when reading my fanfics. Your mental health matters. 🖤

Part Three.

The group chat was busy tonight, Noah was throwing another party at his house. He invited you and Ryan, along with all of his closest friends. Ryan sends a text that he couldn’t make it tonight, work called him in. Your eyes widened. You can’t go. You can’t. You sigh. Ryan would want you to go. You type out a text and send it to the group chat.

If everyone is okay with me coming without Ryan lol 😂

You have to play along. Ryan still hasn’t suspected anything.

Jolly: Yeah, come join us, y/n!

Nicholas: 🙏🙏🙏

Folio: You better!

You roll your eyes, no text from Noah. Why would you expect one? You put your phone down to go to your closet to pick out a dress for tonight. You pick out a black bodycon dress. It’s going to be cold out. You grab a flannel, and put on your doc martens. You look in the mirror, checking over if you like the outfit. You look good. You go to the bathroom to put on some mascara and a little bit of lip gloss. You walk to the door, grabbing your purse, keys, and phone.

After a twenty minute drive you pull up to his house, you can already hear the loud music. You get out of your car, closing it behind you. You walk up to his front door, letting yourself in. You are greeted by the guys. They welcome you inside and all pull you into hugs, everyone’s already drinking, and talking. Everyone is welcoming you into the party…where’s Noah?

You think it’s odd that he hasn’t come up, and made a remark about you. Or tried to mess with you. Maybe…just maybe he’s moved on from his little game he was playing with you. You converse with a few friends as you make your way throughout the house. You look around. You are handed a drink, you look down, having no idea what it is. You put the cup down, walking through the living room. You spot him. He is drinking his beer, and talking with his friends. He picks up a joint beside him. He lights it, watching you. He smirks, taking a drag of the joint. He exhales, letting the smoke surround him.

It’s part of his game, make you come crawling back to him. He played with you a little, messed with your head. Now it’s your turn to come to him. He licks his lips, taking another drag of the joint. His hooded eyes looking over your body, lingering in certain spots. You aren’t going to give in. Nope. You look away, walking to the kitchen. You are greeted by Noah’s friend, Jesse. You get your drink, you and Jesse start chatting. This is good, a familiar face. Someone who respected your boundaries, and you.

You feel his eyes on you. You turn your body towards Jesse, giving him your full attention as you both talk about random topics.

The conversation goes on for quite awhile. Jesse excuses himself to go to the bathroom. You laugh, ushering him to go. You turn around to see Noah isn’t in his previous spot. You sigh in relief. Maybe he has given up, and will finally leave you alone. You wanted that…right? You walk down the hallway, trying to get away from the noise. You feel like you’re suffocating once again.

You find yourself wandering. It’s like clockwork, you’re in front of Noah’s door. You stand there, looking down at the doorknob. Then back up at the dark wooden door. His room held many memories for you and Noah. You step back. You run a hand through your hair, debating on if you should go in or not. Why? What good would that do?

“What are you doing, y/n?” You shake your head. You turn your body, bumping into a solid mass. You stumble backwards, looking up at Noah. This time you can’t finds the words.

“Going somewhere?” He smirks, stepping closer to you. You step back again. Your eyes locked in on his as he glares down at you.

“No words now?” His voice is low, and dark with slight amusement as he takes another step. His smirk never fading.

“What’s the matter? Hm?”

“Nothing..” You swallow, trying to muster up something to say to him. He smirks and takes another final step, looking down at you. He steps forward again, leaning forward to look you in the eyes, a smirk ever growing on his face.

“Are you sure…” He says, taking another step closer to you. Your back bumps into the wall, you can’t help feel vulnerable as he presses himself against you. Noah looks behind him to find the hallway is empty. His eyes return to look down at you. His hands against the wall, your head tilts up to look up at him. He smirks again, he’s loving how weak you are for him. You’re right where he wanted you, pressed between the wall, and nowhere to go. You feel a soft, feather like touch against your collarbone, gliding down your arm. You look away, his gaze is too intense. You shiver feeling his fingers brushing against the valley of your breasts. He chuckles. He’s loving every second of this interaction between the two of you. You can’t look at him. His hand falling to your hip, bringing you close to him. You feel his breath on your neck.

“What’s the matter? You can’t even look me in the eyes anymore?” He keeps a smirk on his lips. You’re still avoiding his gaze.

“Look at me, y/n” his lips next to your ear. You whimper, he presses a soft kiss on your neck. You tense, his thumb stroking your hipbone.

“Tell me you miss me…” He keeps his lips pressed against your neck as he whispers.

“Noah..” you groan, not wanting to beg for anything from him. He gently nips your earlobe, his thumb rubbing circles along your hip.

“Say it…” His teeth gently biting your neck.

“It hurts to much to say it.” You gasp, feeling his teeth graze across your sensitive skin.

“Tell me…”

“I miss you..”

“Good girl…you’re being such a good girl for me…” He’s true to his words. He starts off with small, then works you up to the words that break you down. He nips your neck again.

“Say it again…”

“So you can stop? Torture me some more?” You look up at him. He doesn’t say anything. He stares down at you with a blank expression.

“What’s your end game?” You question him. His lips trail to your ear.

“I love how easily you melt in my hands when you’re this weak…” His whispers are soft and tantalizing. You whimper as he nibbles on your earlobe.

“Don’t ignore me” He chuckles. It’s clear he’s loving that you’re trying to have some control over this current predicament you’re in.

“I’m not ignoring you princess…” He gently bites on your earlobe again. You feel his hands trailing down your body.

“Mmm” You moan, it feels so good when he touches you like this.

“You’re being so good, so weak for me…” His voice is low in your ear. It sends chills down throughout your body. His hands gently rubbing along your waist, hips, and upper thighs.

“Are you going to fuck me?” You ask bluntly. He grins, nipping at your jaw.

“I might…if you’re good for me…”

“Please…I can’t take it anymore”

“Beg…” he kisses along your neck, marking up your skin.

“Please”

“Please what, princess…” He pulls away, looking intensely at you. You know he’s wanting to hear you beg for more. You let your head fall on his chest, stepping away from the wall. He wraps his hand around your throat, putting you up against the wall again.

“Beg. Say the words I’m waiting to hear…” He tightens his hand around your neck. You gasp, your hand finding his wrist. It’s a game, there’s no prize. He’s toying with you.

“Please fuck me, Noah” His grip tightens. You know those are the wrong words. He smirks. You know it’s so easy for you to break when it comes to him.

“Still wrong princess, say the words I want you to hear”You huff, you aren’t going to say it.

“Say you’re mine, princess…” He bites along your neck, leaving red and purple marks.

“Nooo…don’t do that all over again…” He smirks darkly, gently kisses along her neck…

“And what if I do?”

“Just do it. Stop toying with me” God, you sound so desperate. You know it’s music to his ears. He smirks…his lips still on your neck, biting, teasing you.

“No…not yet…” He kisses your collarbone, pressing his knee against you. The pressure between your thighs grows, you cling to his shirt. He stops. You whine, looking up at him as you pant. He smirks down at you.

“Still not saying the words…”

“Fuck off” He chuckles darkly, loving how much you want him. You aren’t giving in this time. You are going to resist.

“I don’t think you mean that…”

“Maybe I do” you push him off, fixing your dress. Your core is throbbing. You hate him. He chuckles as he shoves you back against the wall, holding you there. His knee against your core again.

“You don’t mean that, you need me…”

“I’m not admitting anything” He chuckles as he continues to press against you, watching you tense up from the sensations he’s creating.

“Admit it. You want it, I know you do…”

“Yet, you won’t let me” He gently bites your lower lip, before teasing up to your ear.

“Say it for me, and I’ll give you what you want…” He murmurs against the spot between your neck and ear. You feel the goosebumps pebbling your skin as his breath fans over your neck.

“Fuck me, sir.” You smirk. You can play again. No please for him. He grins. You can tell he loves playing your games.

“Beg properly…” He teases against you. His hand trailing under the hem of your dress.

“You know what….” You smack his hand away. He’s quick to grab your wrist, bringing it up to his lips.

“Say it or I won’t give you what you want. Beg me for it…” You pull your hand away from his grasp. He’s teasing you. He wants to see you completely give in.

“Make me” You cross your arms, looking up at him. He chuckles darkly, loving how small and tough you look right now. He wants to see how far you with this.

“Make you? I can have you trembling in seconds. Keep begging me…” He purrs as he leans in close to your face.

“Hahah, yeah, okay.” You try to not whimper, knowing he damn well could.

“You doubt me, princess?” He leans in further. His breath fanning along your lips. He bites your lower lip, pulling gently, but not giving you the kiss you needs. He kisses his way to your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“I do, actually”

“You really want to test me?” He continues to bite, and nip along your neck. His hands now moving along your waist, hips, gripping them firmly as he pulls you against him.

“Mhm.” You want to push him over the edge like he’s down to you these past weeks.

“You know you’ll regret it…” He smirks as he presses his his between your legs, you gasp. His hands holding you firmly by your waist. You’re standing strong, you feel the need to add fuel to the fire.

“Am I? Does nowah not like it when I get bratty?”

“I love when you get bratty, princess, but you’re not going to get what you want. I’m going to love watching you break…” He chuckles, looking down at you as he watches you start to react to his teasing once again.

“Two can play at that game”

“Oh, I’d love to see you try…” He presses his knee harder against you. His hands reach down to grab your wrists to pin them above your head. You know he loves playing like this, testing his self control. He loves it more knowing you will lose it before him. He’s sick that way.

“Say you’re mine and I’ll give you what you want, princess. It isn’t that hard…” He purrs into your ear, keeping a tight grip on your wrists.

“Beg me for it…”

“No” He chuckles, he keeps his knee in place, not moving. You feel the need for him building up again. You look down to see a wet spot on his pants. His eyes follow yours, looking down at the mess you made. He snickers, seeing the evidence of how he’s making you feel in plain sight. He looks down at you.

“Really now? I think your body is telling you that you love what I’m doing to you.” He pushes his knee against you again, resuming his teasing. You try to pull away, smirking up at him.

“I…”

“You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I do know how it ends..it always ends the same way.”

“So, what makes you think the outcome will be different? Hm? You’ll give in, you always do. It’s pathetic.” His voice is low against your ear. He pulls away, gripping your wrist, leading you to his bedroom. No one else gets to see you fall apart. Only him. He drags you to his bedroom. He closes the door behind him. He pushes you on the bed, watching you, rready to show you what happens when you try to be a brat.

“What now? Are we going to gossip?” He chuckles, loving your confidence. You know it won’t last*

“Shut up.” He says softly, slowly moving over you, pinning your wrists to the bed. He’s always loved seeing you trapped underneath him.

“Shut up and look at me…” His voice is still low and deep. His hands pinning your wrists to the bed, sitting on your waist, locking your thighs between his legs. You are trying your best to keep up the brat act, but the way he’s looking down at you, it’s slowly starting to slip away. He smirks, loving the way he’s completely pinning you, trapping you. You aren’t going anywhere now.

“You always break so easily for me. I can see you’re already struggling, y/n” His hand moves to gently, and slowly trail along your thigh. His fingers light touches teasing you.

“No…” You mumble, he’s looking down at you. He smirks, loving your denial.

“We’ll see how long you can hold out” He continues to trail his fingers, teasing you, but not giving you any relief. He lets go of your wrists, his fingers hiking up your dress over your hips revealing your black lacy thong. One of his favorites. He looks down at her, tracing his fingers over the pattern.

“Are these for me?” He smirks, you roll your eyes. It wasn’t intentional, you weren’t thinking about the effect your underwear would have on him.

“No” He growls, not liking that answer. It was like a switch came on in his eyes. Oh no…you started to quickly realize what this just turned into.

“Well, if I can’t touch…neither can you” He grabs your wrists again. Oh no, not this game. You start begging, you hate this. You always hated it. He needs both hands for what he’s going to do to you. He reaches in a drawer pulling out the infamous silk ties. You start to panic, you thrash in his grasp.

“Where do you think you’re going? Hm? You’re staying right here. You remember this game, yeah? It’s your favorite.” He laughs in your face, as he wraps the silk ties around your wrists tying them on the headboard of his bed.

“Noah, no…please. I don’t want to play, please…I hate it”

“You should’ve known what was going to happen when I saw those. You know what these do to me.” It’s so twisted and dark. It’s the no touch game. Whenever you would deny him of anything, he would deny you. His way, or not at all.

“I don’t think you’re going to win this little game. You’re not as strong as you think…”

“I’m sorry, okay. Please.” You squirm underneath him, tugging against the ties. He pins your hips down, watching as you struggle to get away.

“Sorry doesn’t work. You knew what you were getting into…”

“Noah…please”

“Beg for it. Beg for my touch, then you’ll be able to win this game…” You groan, tugging and thrashing against them.

“Please, I wanna touch you. I’m sorry. Please” You whimper, it was so easy, quick and pathetic at how quickly you gave in.

“Aw, you want a second chance? That’s cute. Do you think you deserve it?” He smirks down at you, knowing you couldn’t resist his persuasive words.

“I think you haven’t really learned your lesson yet…”

“I’m sorry..”

“You’re going to have to prove it, and beg more…”

*He purrs…watching her squirm*

“Beg to prove it…be a good girl…”you tug again at the ties, whining. You knew you couldn’t get away. He brought his hands up to your wrists. He slowly brings them down your arms. You arch your back. You hate it. You can’t do anything about it.

“Aw, can’t get away? Too fucking bad.” He purrs, so easy to break you. He hasn’t even touched you properly.

“Beg some more princess…” You squirm, as he passes over your underarms. His hands over to your breasts, cupping them. You can’t help the moan that leaves your lips.

“Say please. Beg for it…” He leans down, barely brushing his lips to yours.

“If you want my touch you need to beg for it…” You had to hold on. Oh…his hands still massaging your breasts, slow and deliberate. The sensation goes straight to your core. He moves his hands away from your chest, trailing down your ribs and stomach. His touch is barely there.

“Are you going to give up?”

“Nope. Nnnn” If you give in, say how badly you need it, you lose his strange game. His hands trail down to your underwear, then back up your body. He knows how badly you want it. He can see it in your eyes, and he smiles. He gently trails a finger up and down along your sides.

“Say it. Say you’re mine.”

“N-No” He chuckles as you continue to hold out. The look on his face. He’s loving how he has you completely at his will under him.

“Can’t say it? Too bad. Haha, I love getting you like this. You’re so weak, and desperate for me…” He moves down to your hipbones, squeezing them. It makes you bucks your hips.

“See? Just look at you. You’re already squirming under me. So weak for me, my weak little girl” He loves seeing you fall apart beneath him, how desperate you are.

“No..”

“Say you’re mine…” He gently trails his hands along your thighs. He’s loving hearing the way you whimper.

“Mmm” He chuckles. He gently brushes against your core. You whine, tugging against the ties. You can’t help your legs opening up for him.

“Come on, you know you want it. Say you need it…”

“Oh god”

“Tell me how badly you need it…” His hand brushes over your core again. You look up to see him looking at you, watching your every move.

“Beg for me. Be a good girl…”

“Nnn” you arch your back as his finger circles around your clit through your underwear. He groans in satisfaction.

“Say it or I stop…” He taps your pussy with his hand lightly. You writhe against the mattress. You can only mutter out whimpers of desperation.

“Come on, y/n. Be a good girl. Say it…” He continues to tease, light touches that he knew wouldn’t provide you with the friction you needed. You raise your hips, grinding against his touch. You needed it so bad. It was driving you over the edge.

“Say the words, and I’ll give it to you…”

“Please, touch me. I need your touch, please, sir.” Damn it, you think to yourself.

“Say it again. Say how badly you need me…” He can feel the wet spot of your arousal soaking his fingers. He keeps going with those slow, maddening circles around your pussy, brushing your clit.

“Please, touch me, sir”

“Say you need it.” He groans, feeling you writhe against his fingers.

“I need it. Please”

“How much do you need it? Beg like a good girl…” He slows down the movement of his hand. You continue to mumble out whimpers.

“Beg with your words for me…and I’ll make you feel so good…”

“Ahh..” you whine, his fingers sliding under the fabric of your underwear.

“I need it so badly please, I need all of you”

“Beg me for it…” He nips your neck, sliding your underwear to the side.

“Noah…please”

“You have to beg properly…” He’s watching how his touches and his words are making you fall apart. A cry of frustration escapes your lips.

“I need you so badly, please, I can stop thinking about it, please, sir”

“That’s my good girl. There’s not a thought in your mind other than me now is there?” He runs his fingers pinch your clit lightly, causing you to gasp. Your legs start to shake.

“I..I need it so badly.” You whimper as he takes his hand away.

“Can’t even think about anything else, just me taking you apart piece by piece. You need me to make you feel good, don’t you, baby?” He’s loving watching how desperate you are, needing his touches, and his words. You are putty in his hands.

“Please, I need it. Please.” You words stammer, a tear slips down your cheek. You’re embarrassed by how turned on you are.

“Good girl, so weak for me, so desperate. Be a good girl. Beg for it again…” You lean into his hand as he wipes away the tears with his thumb. He smiles down at you. Your mind is turning off, all consumed by him.

“Mmmphh…”

“Come on, beg for it…” His voice sounds impatient.

“Beg for me to touch you…”

“Please, please, please! Noah, please. Touch me, make me feel good. I want to feel good, please, sir” He chuckles. His fingers gently trail over your underwear.

“So little touches can get you trembling and begging? So weak for me, y/n” He’s watching you closely, watching you tremble at his touch. He laughs at how little he has to do to get a reaction out of you. The satisfied look on his face makes your stomach turn.

“I can only think of you..” You squirm, tugging at your restraints. You’re panting, wanting him so badly. He’s toying with you. You’re at his mercy. Again.

“You’re helpless, completely weak for me. My good girl…” He’s got you so weak. You’re ashamed about how all it took is gentle teasing touches, and you’re his little toy, begging for more.

“Please, touch me, sir”

“My good girl, you’re begging so well, maybe I will…” He runs his fingers over your hip. You hate yourself for being so desperate for him. You whine again. His hand cups your core. The little touches are making you mad and wild with need. He keeps running his fingers against you.

“You sound so needy, sweet girl”

“Please, sir. Please!” He loves teasing you like this. The desperation in your voice, how badly you want him.

“What do you want princess…” He whispers into your ear. You groan in frustration. You hate this mind game.

“Say exactly what you want. Beg me to make you feel good…”

“I’ve been saying what I want! Please, sir! Please!”

“You haven’t said the specific words I want to hear.” His voice has the edge in it. He knows how to bend and mold you to how he likes, to give in to his every word.

“My pussy”

“Good girl, say it again for me…” You know that when he has you like this it’s boosting that awful ego through the roof. It makes him feel so powerful when he controls you.

“Please touch my pussy, sir”

“Be specific, y/n. What do you want me to do to your pussy?”

“Noah…I swear…I..I mean.”

“Say it or else…”

“Make me feel good by touching my pussy, sir. Please” You whined, feeling the desperation taking over.

“Mmm, good girl. Such pretty words…” He presses his fingers against your pussy. His fingers working around your clit. You moan, feeling a little relief.

“How does that feel…?”

“Mmmm, so good”

“Such a pretty reaction, feel good? Are you going to behave now?” He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. His tongue brushing across your lip, you open your mouth, moaning as his tongue brushes yours. He pulls away, waiting for your response.

“Yes, I’ll be good. Please, can I have more?”

“What are you going to say if you keep acting like a good girl?” He bumps your nose with his pointer finger, chuckling as he does it.

“Thank you, sir”

“Good girl” he kisses down your neck. His hand leaving your pussy, you whimper. He slowly pulls down your thong. You lift your hips for him as he pulls them down your thighs, down to your ankles. He throws them on the floor, looking down at you.

“Beg to thank me princess, beg me to make you feel good…”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for making me feel good”

“Good girl, say please, and I’ll give you more…”

“Please, sir”

“Say the words, beg me to make you feel good, and I’ll give you what you want…”

“Please, sir. Please make me feel good.”

“Such a good girl, behaving so well…”

“Ohh”

“Come on, be a good girl. Beg me for more…” He pushes up your thighs to your chest. You feel so exposed as his hands squeeze and massage your sensitive thighs. He looks down to see your arousal. He hums, leaning down to gather it with his fingers, coating your pussy in your slick. You gasp, feeling his fingers brush your entrance.

“Ahh..nnn…please, can I have your fingers, sir?”

“Good girl, say please if you want my fingers.” Your breath hitched, feeling his finger teasing your entrance, then trail up over your clit, then back down again.

“Please sir”

“Where do you want my fingers?” He leans down to kiss up the back of your thighs, nipping, sucking hard to leave marks.

“Inside” You moan, feeling his tongue soothing the marks he left behind.

“Inside where? Can’t have you being that vague…” He teases, getting his damn kicks from hearing you be so pathetic for him. He continues to kiss your inner thighs, his fingers brushing, and rubbing your clit.

“Me”

“Say it princess…” He whispers against your skin, not even bothering to look up at you as he worships you.

“Can I have your fingers inside me? Please, sir”

“What do you say first?” He looks up at you, continuing to bite your thighs.

“Thank you…”

“That’s right, thank me. Be a good girl for me…”

“Thank you, sir”

“Such a good girl…behaving so well…what are you needing right now, princess…?” His eyes watching how you as he kisses, licks, and bites your thighs. His fingers at your entrance, teasing around it. He’s not giving you what you want, not yet.

“Your mouth and fingers, sir.” You blushed when you said it. He looks down at your core, he slides a finger in. He looks back up at you to see your head turning into your arm. He curls his finger, keeping a slow pace as he rubs your g-spot.

“You’re so cute, are you begging for them, sweet girl?”

Please, can I have your mouth and fingers, sir? Please” Your response is breathless. He adds another finger, your walls clench around him.

“Good girl, is that all you want?” He tilts his head in a condescending manner. He can see just how badly you need him.

“And you..”

“You want me?” The smirk grows on his face.

“Yes, sir”

“Say it. Say you need me, beg me for what you want…”The eagerness in his tone is evident that he is wanting to hear just how badly you need him as.

“First, I want you to eat me, and finger me. I want all of you. Please, sir” His fingers pick up the pace, you moan as he works that spot again.

“Good girl. Good fucking girl. Don’t forget to thank me for making this cunt feel so good.”

“Please, sir. Thank you, sir!” You cry out, feeling yourself getting close.

“There we go, say it again. Be a good girl, beg me for it…”

“Please, sir.” Your voice sounds so desperate. His fingers feel so fucking good.

“Say exactly what you want…” he smirks, biting his lip as he watches his fingers disappear and reappear from your pussy.

“Please, eat me and finger me, then may I have you, sir? Please?” You beg, you need it. You want him so bad, you don’t have an ounce of regret.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“I’ve been good, please, sir” You tug at the silk ties, wanting so badly to touch him as he settles down between your thighs again. You lift your head up to see him looking up at you as he kisses your core. You’re overwhelmed, whimpering as he removes his fingers from you.

“That’s right, you’ve been a good girl.” He says in a low tone, you’re begging for anything he’d give you.He locks eyes with her as he licks up your cunt. You gasp, tugging once again at the ties.

“You want me, don’t you?” He says as he nuzzles against your pussy, dragging his tongue up.

“Y-Yes”

“Beg some more, let me know how badly you need this.” His fingers return, building up that delicious pace.

“Mmm..please, need your fingers too and your mouth…please, sir”

“My good girl, you beg so well. ”He snickers, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Fuck”

“Come on princess…keep begging for me as I finger this beautiful cunt. My cunt.”

“I…mmm, fuck”

He chuckles, pulling away from you He gets off the bed, smirking. You’re a wanton, dripping mess. He has you exactly where he wants you.

“What..” You stare up at him in disbelief.

“You’re going to sit, and wait as long as I want. When you beg me properly, I’ll give you what you need, got it, y/n?” He backs away, loving how desperate you are.

“Are you kidding me?! Noah!!!”

“That’s what you get for not saying what I want to hear…” He smirks. He walks out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“You fucking asshole!! Noah!” You thrash against the silk ties, your heart is pounding. You can’t get away. You’re fucked. Oh god, so fucked.

(OH MY GOD AHHHH DON’T HATE ME)

Taglist: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard

[cuttleimagines]

𝙱𝚊𝚕𝚍𝚞𝚛'𝚜 𝙶𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝟹 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚜:

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝™ (part 1)

𝙱𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝟹𝚊𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚕

Contains: Astarion, Halsin, Gale, and Wyll

Warnings: 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢 𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜, 𝚗𝚘 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢/𝚗, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚞𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜, 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘

Have more headcanons? Let me know in the comments!

Like what I write? Tip me on ko-fi! ⚔️

Halsin:

Halsin’s the outdoorsy BBQ dad who takes you on family camping trips.

You learn all of your life-saving skills from daddy Halsin. How to build a campfire from scratch, how to safely put one out, how to pitch a tent, how to fish.

A particular core memory you share with your dad is when he brought you to the lakeside, teaching you how to skip rocks across the calm waters.

“Look for flat rocks, little one. The ones you can run the pads of your thumbs over.” Halsin hums, the rocks crunching under his shoes as his eyes scan for the best rocks to gather for you to practice with.

His strong arms give the best hugs, and his broad shoulders are the best to lean on when sitting down next to him.

You already know all the moms simp over him when he shows up for school gatherings 💀

They see how attentive he is, how he’s always at LEAST 10 minutes early to your recitals, games, award ceremonies, fundraisers, you name it. He’s always willing to volunteer if the school staff need an extra pair of muscles too.

Since he volunteers a lot, he starts to become pretty popular amongst your classmates too. Definitely the cool dad without trying to be the cool dad.

Probably one of the coaches for the local little league

Mans has an affair with his grill. That thing is his BABY. It’s sacred.

Your weekend evenings are filled with the cool summer evening air against your skin and the faint scent of bug spray and the smoke from dad’s grill, playing with your yard toys.

He’s happy to have helpers as long as you ask! He’s a very patient teacher. He’ll pass you a turning fork and a meat paintbrush to perfectly cover the meat in his homemade BBQ sauce that was passed down for generations.

“Look at you, making dinner all by yourself!” He’d let out a hearty laugh, a proud smile on his face as he eats with the rest of the family, the small glow of a latern on the table outside illuminating his face. “It tastes better than I usually make it. Well done.”

He can hike like a motherfucker

There is not one trail this man has not conquered. His favorite is always one closest to the waterfalls wherever you all camp.

You are his pride and joy and he shows it. A HUGE sucker for you but he is firm with discipline. Refuses to hit you, only believes in consequence with experience.

Will 100% put you in the timeout corner. Is not fooled by toddler crocodile tears.

He has expectations, but he’s such a caring dad to the point where you don’t really see them as annoyances or burdens.

He’s a listener. If you’re going through something, he’ll listen and carry it out. Helps you in all the ways he knows how.

Puts a LOT of trust in you, highly suggest you don’t break that trust as you get older and become more independent.

Hyper-protective but not in a helicopter parent way. Just pls always give him frequent calls and updates whenever you’re out otherwise he will worry.

His texting style is very brief but you can tell he cares lol

“dad I’m going to my friend’s house and staying the night.”

“👍❤️” “Stay safe. Call me when you get there.”

Idk if I stressed this: DAD BEAR HUGS !!

Dad Song™️ that reminds you of him: You’ll Be In My Heart - Phil Collins

Wyll:

Wyll’s the nostalgic workaholic, attentive and caring dad who taught you life lessons that you’ll think about for the rest of your life.

He’s very very passionate about helping as many people as he can and saving those who need it the most, so I picture him being gone a lot due to work.

He probably travels a lot and you were mostly with your other parent while growing up.

However, when he is home, I cannot explain to you how amazing of a father your dad is.

Like, I can picture your other parent getting so fed up with all the responsibilities of holding down the fort so long without his help, and when he walks in the door, all of that tension is just gone.

He’s a movie dad, probably knows all the classic films and wins all of the trivia games when it comes to 60s - 2000s movies.

(No, seriously, never bring this man to an Olive Garden or a Chili’s to play the trivia games on the little iPads. He’ll win every fucking time.) 💀

That also means frequent movie nights when he’s home!

Imagine being cuddled up with popcorn, laying beside your dad on the couch while he makes side commentary on the plot that makes you laugh.

If you show him a movie or a song, he’s very attentive and will ask many questions, such as “Who’s this actress? She’s really talented” or “When was this made?"

When you were a baby, he'd be the type to sway with you in his arms, singing to one of his favorite songs as it played on the stereo in the morning

Occasionally, he still does it. He gets really happy if you learn the lyrics and sing with him. 😭

Being active is a big, big thing for him. Please, play outside. Be a kid. Don’t be cooped up inside. He HATES that.

He’s gonna encourage sports, as long as you stay up-to-date on studies and try your best.

I don’t see him getting upset if you have grades below an A. Just as long as you’re passing and trying your best, he’s happy.

However, if you have a goal to get into a competitive school, he might push you a little.

“The hardest steps are always the first ones. After you pass that, you will sail.”

Whenever anyone at the school is giving you shit, please, please tell him. He'll be so heartbroken if his baby doesn't come to him with their problems. ☹️

I don’t think it’s a surprise that he’s not going to swear in front of you, or encourage drinking or sneaking out of any kind.

He volunteers a lot at your school events, similar to Halsin. They have frequent conversations together, bonding over their little bundles of joy. 😭

When you get older, he’s teaching you everything he KNOWS about adulthood

Shows you how to do your taxes the DAY you turn 17 so you’re a year ahead and don’t have to pay anyone, takes you out to practice driving a lot, helps you move into your college dorm.

“Are you positive you have everything you need? I know I’m not here frequently, but I’ll drop my duties if you need anything.”

I think for your 18th birthday, he gets matching tattoos with you and lets you pick out the design/the words.

He flaunts it a lot, regardless of whatever it is.

You’re his BABY!! He’s so proud to be your dad 🥹

Dad Song™️ that reminds you of him: Love Will Keep Us Together - Captain & Tennille

Astarion:

Astarion is 100% the "don't tell your mom" dad who lets you get away with murder.

Astarion never pictured himself as someone who would be having children. He didn't even think he'd be a good father. So when you were born, everything crashed around him, and all he could see was tunnel vision when your tiny hand held his finger. 🥹

However, please keep in mind that he has no idea what the literal fuck he is doing when he's getting into the whole "dad" thing. Whenever you spit up, start bawling, or shit yourself he just holds you up like "What the fuck do I do?"

This slowly fades as you get older and he goes from holding you like a fragile piece of glass to hoisting you up by one arm like you were a sack of potatoes.

Encourages mischievous behavior. If you want a cookie before dinner, you get one. If you want to watch TV past 9:00, he won't tattle.

Whenever you're young, it's a little difficult to get along with your dad, surprisingly, but mainly just because he doesn't know how to properly play with you and give you the one-on-one you need. But trust that he'll be there. Just distant.

As you get older, though, he finds it easier to relate to things with you, and you grow closer. Especially when you start learning how to gossip. God, he loves that. Tell him what that one bitch told you in the hallways. He's the BEST at talking shit.

"Honestly, darling, you need to use that backbone I gave you. The best way to piss somebody off is to act like they can't touch you. Come on, practice on me. Tell me my mother's a whore."

Yeah, you get in trouble quite often. You're Astarion's kid. Who's surprised?

However, your little eyes light up whenever the teacher threatens to call your father. That man is your lawyer in the principal's office.

He is the school board's worst nightmare. It's so good. 🤭

"So what if they put gum in her hair? Honestly, though, have you SEEN her? She needs some color in her hair, I think. I believe they were helping her, personally."

I'm sorry but if you stay at home a lot of the time and you're in your teens, he WILL give you shit for it.💀

You always remember seeing him sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, swirling a glass of wine in his hand as he stares at you with that raised eyebrow.

"It's a Friday night. You have friends, don't you? Sneak out every once and a while. Be a kid, for gods sake."

Although he's incredibly relaxed about you partying and staying out late, you'd better CALL him if you get in trouble. He always stays up to make sure you get back home safe.

One memory you always hold onto is your dad always having a hand on you in public. Whether that be on your shoulder, absentmindedly twirling your hair, hand on the small of your back, or just holding the cloth of your shirt. NOBODY is touching you. ‼️

Surprisingly, he’s a dad who prioritizes safety beyond everything else. Look both ways, carry pepper spray at all times, always carry cash, never have your phone below 20 percent out of the house. More importantly, CALL him if you’re walking home alone so people know not to fuck with you.

He has your location on and checks it frequently, but don’t worry, he’s not anal about anything as long as it’s in character for you.

Because of this, you have the best street smarts out of all your friends.

He's an absolute NIGHTMARE at your school games. Talks shit to all of the parents on the other side and is the loudest when it comes to calling out the refs for bad calls.

“Double dribble?! Where?! How about you double dribble on this dic—“

He's gotten escorted out of the gymnasium a few times. 💀

When you get older, he becomes someone you confide in a LOT. And he’s going to be there for you, no matter the circumstance.

Overall, he just wants to give you a better life than he had. He's the most loyal father EVER.

Dad Song™️ that reminds you of him: Renegade - Styx

Gale:

Like Astarion, Gale is also a "don't tell your mom'' dad, but for very, very different reasons.

He's just a sucker for you, honestly. Can't say no to your big puppy eyes that you got from him.

I don’t think it’s a surprise that Gale’s secretly always wanted to be a father. That man gets off on sharing his knowledge. Passing that down to a little tiny Dekarios running around the house is right up his alley.

Gale just absolutely loves being a dad.

He loves playing pretend with you, getting to see how your little mind works while he crawls on the floor pretending to be a horse while you ride on his back.

Playing hide and seek is his favorite because you giggle so loudly and hide in such an obvious spot every time. It’s the cutest thing ever.

“Hmm… Where could that little rager have run off to…? I wonder~” He’d grin, staring right at the blanket you had so deviously hidden under.

Gale would buy those math flashcards to teach you times tables when you’re way too young for it.

You don’t care though because you get to spend time with your dad and his frustration’s funny when you just stare blankly at him.

Another thing he loves to do is read to you. You know those preschool teachers who show the book around and make little voices for the characters? That's him.

As you get older, you learn what to go to him for.

If you fake a sickness because you don't want to go to school, he's coming to pick you up. Even though he's very well aware that you're faking, and you're gonna get an earful of a lecture about it, he's always there if you need him.

He'd take you out for ice cream and while you're stuffing your face, he has the most disapproving look on his face.

"You know, you can't expect to get good grades if you've got chocolate ice cream in your stomach while the other kids are getting fed important information, sweetheart. Are you listening to me?"

As you get older please be gentle with him because he still sees you as a freshly wrapped-up newborn. It breaks his heart whenever you get in arguments when you reach your rebellious hormonal teenage persona.

Despite your issues with your dad being a little overprotective with high expectations, he's such a teddy bear and you grow a big soft spot for him as you get over your rebellion.

He's very easy to make laugh if you pull pranks on him. If you hide behind one of the doors and scare him, he's so animated it's great.

"I'm getting old, you know! You'll make my heart stop one of these days!" He'll joke, laughing through his rapid heartbeats.

He always has photos of you as a baby and insists on taking photos at all your big moments. Your graduation, he's first in line to take a picture with his baby. Damned scholarships can wait. He's the one who raised you.

Posts pictures of you all the time with witty captions and might throw a baby photo or two in the mix for a bit of nostalgia.

"Still terrorizing my wallet after all these years. I am a walking piggy bank. 😂 Love you, you hellion! Happy birthday. 🥳" Posted with a picture of you as a baby with one of those boujee toy kitchen sets right next to a picture of you getting your first car.

He's so posh about his cooking and will insist on eating at home ALL the time. You started to grow sick of it but after moving out you missed home-cooked foods so bad. Everytime you visit, you INHALE your dad's food.

Wears a "Kiss the Cook" apron, plays music whenever he grills.

Speaking of grilling, all the dads get together to grill once every few months but Astarion doesn't participate and just brings his family there for the free food because he can't be asked to cook. 😭

Dad Song™️ that reminds you of him: Dream On - Aerosmith