#this is gonna be the last I touch on this though

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Ride

Summary: Javi's a ride you can't resist (aka, it's more PWP LMAO)

Word Count: 1.9K

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Warnings: It's all porn again, sorry- Javi's POV, unprotected p in v (pls do not do, but who am I to say), oral (m receiving), Javi is down BAD for you bouncin' on that thang, idk y'all, make men yearn insatiably 2025 is the motto for the year, I don't make the rules

A/N: Hey, remember when I said I was gonna write this and then didn't? Guess who finally finished this thing 🤠 Shout out to @yxtkiwiyxt for gracing my brain with this idea, and to @gothcsz for being insane about it with me!!! @jolapeno I'm dragging you into this, too heheheh y'all, it seems like it's 24/7 horny hours over here, so apologies about being insufferable for This Man™️ enjoy, before someone eventually (and inevitably) calls animal control on me!! (we're also considering this piece a research project, fellow pillow princesses rise up LMAOOOOOOO)

He doesn’t notice the way the corner of his lip has been turned upward since he left your apartment. The strain in his cheek muscles are the last part of his body he’s concerned about. 

It takes everything in him to pretend like he’s did have to waddle to his desk through the office this morning. While there’s a part of him that curses the fact he can’t handle himself the way he used to as a younger man, he’d be lying out of his goddamn teeth if he said that he’d never been happier to be this sore. 

And he’s only got you to blame. 

It’s safe to say his work efficiency is absolutely fucked today. The only thing he has the mental capacity for is the image of you, straddled across his hips, riding him until he was half way convinced he’d never walk again. 

It had started off innocent enough, your body draped across his on the couch, re-runs of a sitcom he couldn’t be bothered to remember playing in the background. It wasn’t long until you had found a way to crawl into his lap, cute and giggly pecks of your lips shifting into a frantic dance of tongues and teeth, hungry and needy. 

“Let me take care of you, Javi.” 

You had whispered it in his ear like a siren song, the sultry promise of your words making him grow harder by the second beneath you. 

It was a luxury he had forgone for too many years to count, to let someone else take the lead- to work herself slowly into his lap, worship every inch of him, and fuck him in a way he was convinced he’d never be worthy of. 

In Colombia, sex was far from luxurious. Better yet, sex was a survival instinct- a way to gain intel from questionable informants or a chance to finally numb his mind from the pressure and terror of the things he’d endured, even if just for a little while. It simply existed as another need, like food or water, a way to keep him alive in the chaos of a cartel ridden country. 

But now, he’s home. He wakes up in the morning to the soft Laredo sunrise and closes his eyes to the cicadas chirping as the sky shifts to darkness, unburdened by the weight of the world that used to haunt him. Now, he slips into bed next to the warmth and softness of your figure, curled in the sheets next to him. 

Now, the world is different, because he has you.  

Sex is no longer a need. It’s an overwhelming want that stirs his stomach every time he sees you. It’s a desire that burns deep in his chest, an all consuming thought, an itch he just can’t scratch. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get enough of you. 

He still doesn’t understand how you can’t get enough of him, either. 

It’s not your words that solidify his belief that he’s worthy of you, even though every time you talk to him, he’s convinced he can’t breathe- He knows you love him from all the things your words can’t say. Your tender touch, gentle kisses on his lips whenever there’s a chance for them to meet, the way you can’t help but let your hands wander his body until they’ve explored every part of him with a fervent promise of desire. 

Perhaps there will always be a part of him convinced he’s not deserving of you, but with the way you have your hands wrapped around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, it’s all the convincing he needs for right now. 

It’s not long until your hands become your mouth, tongue dragging up and down the length of his shaft, swirling around his tip before sinking down so deep, he can feel the huffs of warm air from your nostrils tickling the hairs at his base. He’s lost in the warmth and wetness, hand tangled in your hair as he cradles the back of your head, gently guiding you up and down while you take him down your throat. 

As if he wasn’t wrecked already, it’s the devilish grin you shoot him with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, split dribbling down the corners of your curled lips, that has him all but whimpering, soft expletives and moans rapidly spilling out of him. 

He’s so drunk on you, eyes closed and head tipped back against the edge of the couch, he’s barely even registered when you’ve stopped, only looking up at you when he feels the way your weight has shifted, one hand bracing yourself against his chest while your hips hover over his cock. 

“You ready for me, cowboy?” 

He swears that one day that smirk will be damn near enough to kill him, but God knows he won’t let today be that day- not with what you’re about to do. 

All he can do is nod, the both of you breathless as you begin to sink down his length. It’s almost painfully slow, the way you’re taking him an inch at a time, teasing him the whole way down until you settle with him stuffing you to the brim, whining as your hips finally flush with his, taking everything he has to give. 

He’s not sure what higher power he needs to thank that you have the mercy to start slow- anything but the later, and he would have had no choice but to finish right then and there. His arms reach around your waist, fingers dipping in the dips of your hips as you roll them, like he’s holding on for dear life. 

Javi wishes his hands could be everywhere as you lean down to kiss him, that they could grope and grab at the plush of your breasts, cup your face, and smack your ass all at once. He needs you in a way that’s all consuming, a way that lets you know how lucky he is to have every part of you be his, and his alone. 

He’s handsy and fumbling like a goddamn teenager- you know it just as well as him. He should be embarrassed by the little giggle you give him in between the muffled moans of your mouths meeting, but he doesn’t care. Instead, for the first time in years, Javi laughs along with you. 

“Handsy, much?” You tease, nostrils crinkling and lips curling. 

“Can’t get enough of you, hermosa. Can never get enough of you.” 

You grant him one last kiss before you pull away, biting down on your lip as you watch his jaw drop at the way you shift your hips, leaning back to drag your cunt up and down his cock, sliding effortlessly with the way it’s drenched with your slick. 

The once forgiving ease of your pace has dissipated, your bottom half rocking as you ride him. He can’t decipher if the sultry smile spread across your face is from your own doing, or from the way he’s looking up at you, entranced and captivated by every movement you make. 

It’s enough of the second to seem to spur you on, bouncing faster on his length as your hands creep up your own chest, cupping your breasts in your hands to hold them as they jiggle. When your fingers slide across your pebbled nipples, tweaking the hardened buds between your index fingers and thumbs, Javi all but short circuits. There’s an extra ache in the way his cock throbs, watching the show you’re putting on for him. 

There’s something harmonious about the way your moans melt with the slap of your hips meeting his. Sure, it’s lewd, but fuck, if it isn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard, watching you lose yourself in pleasure with the warmth and wet of your pussy wrapped around him. 

“Fuck, baby. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Look so fucking pretty bouncing on my cock.” 

He’s not sure how he even has the capacity to form coherent thoughts anymore, desperate and needy babbles falling from his parted lips like an endless waterfall of praises, just for you.  

“Feels so good, Javi. So fucking good.” 

Your cocky facade is beginning to fade, eyes scrunched shut in focus with every thrust up and down his length. It hasn’t taken him long to recognize the expression now plastered across your face- Javi knows it’s the reflex that tells him you’re close, that it won’t be much longer until you’re clamping down around his cock, the sound of his name hitching in the back of your throat as you cum. 

Your once methodical rhythm has transformed into something fiercely frantic, arching your back so that you can reach behind and brace yourself on his thighs, fingertips digging deep half moons into his skin. 

He’s too all consumed to do anything but watch, to take in the beauty that radiates off of every part of you straddled across his lap. 

He relishes in the melodic symphony of your moans, muffled and mixed with expletives between heavy breaths, lost in the soft sheen of sweat glistening over your skin, shimmering from the way you’ve all but conquered him, hips grinding down on him, taking all of him over and over. 

There’s a selfish war raging in his head amidst his mesmerization- One side wishing he could stay like this forever, keep you perched over his lower half, cock stuffed inside you until your bodies give out. The other prays you cum sooner rather than later- He won’t until you do, and lord knows it’s taking every ounce of self restraint he has left to make sure that happens. 

Fuck, maybe you really are trying to kill him. 

“Oh f-fuck- Fuck, I’m close, Javi.” You whimper, your grip around his thighs growing impossibly tighter as you furrow your brow in focus, not daring to let your pace falter, not when you’ve found the spot where the head of his cock fits perfectly inside you. 

“Use me, baby. Fuck- use me, pretty girl.” 

It’s not much longer until you’ve reached your peak, feeling the way you tighten around him as you soak his length with your slick, the once steady rhythm of your hips faltering as you cum. 

Your head thrusts back, chest heaving as you cry out his name, over and over, a sound he swears he’ll never tire of as long as he’s alive to hear it. Because when it falls from your lips, it stirs something so deep inside him, knowing he’s the reason you feel this way. 

That you’re his. 

There’s only moments until Javi’s following suit, fingers buried in the soft dips of your hips as he takes one final thrust, moaning into the crook of your neck while he cums, letting your pussy milk him of everything he has to give. 

The two of you have become a hot, sweaty mess of limbs, melting into each other’s bodies, unsure of where one starts and the other ends. But even with your head rested against his shoulder, he can feel the way your cheeks tense to house the smile spread between your lips. It’s only then he recognizes the same strain in his face, the subtle smirk he can’t seem to shake whenever he’s with you. 

It’s also then he realizes, as long as he’s with you, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to. 

“What’s that grin for?” You tease, sitting up to plant gentle kisses on his cheeks, brushing away the dark curls dangling over his forehead. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, you know that?”

“Well, good thing I feel the same then, huh?” 

Both your smiles stretch wider as he cups your jaw in his palm, his hand just big enough to let the ends of his fingers wrap around the back of your head, pulling your mouth to his, letting your lips lock for a moment before you break away. 

“Thanks for the ride, cowboy.” 

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[cameronsprincess]

Do you think you could do somwething with season 4 rafe x pogue reader. Using I need to hear you not just feel you

raaaaah yeah yeah! season 4 rafey with a pogue!reader is😣😍 alsooo “i need to hear you not just feel you” is so yummy.

CW: smut! 18+ only! drinking, reader and rafe’s first time hanging out, fem receiving oral, strong language ig?

note: yeah i used sofia in this, but simply bc she has on the island club outfit and reader is a bartender at the island club!

masterlists.

rafe cameron.

that name sent most people running the other direction on this island— especially people like you… a pogue. but rafe didn’t scare you away, no, instead he intrigued you.

people had always been slightly scared of rafe, the man had a reputation for sure, and he lived up to that reputation. it wasn’t until his dad had died though that he’d really become a force to reckon with. rafe was careless in the way he handled things, he had the entire police force in his pocket, could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted.

so why were you so interested in a man who could do you more harm than good? the answer wasn’t simple. you’d honestly loved the darkness that surrounded him, but you’d never speak that out loud, so instead you settled on the fact that he was just damn good to look at.

tall, broad shoulders, big arms, nice hands. tanned skin that paired beautifully with his ocean-blue eyes. he’d buzzed his hair in the last year, it suited him. any time you saw him, your mind buzzed with thoughts of running your hands over his buzzed head, sinking your blunt nails into his tanned and toned shoulders, roaming your hands over every inch of perfectly chiseled skin on his body. the thought of his perfectly plump and pink lips on yours sent an electrifying bout of pleasure rushing straight to your clit.

you were leaned up against the bar at the island club, your mind swirling in on all the dirty thoughts you’d had about rafe cameron as you stared at him from across the room. the man was a walking fucking heart throb, tanned skin, tight white polo— the sleeves squeezing at his biceps snugly — light khakis and designer shoes. his large, veiny hand gripped a whiskey glass, the rim of it pressed against his bottom lip.

as if he could feel your intense stare, he looked over at you. deep, bottomless pools of blue staring right back at you. your heart dropped into your throat, a shiver coasting down your spine as you held his stare. he smiled, winked and then returned to his conversation.

“hey, we need more bud lights from the back, you just gonna eye fuck rafe all night or can you go get it?” your co-worker, estelle, snipped.

you turned your attention on her, giving a small fake smile. she could be a bitch, but she’d meant well.

“yeah, sure thing i’ll go grab it. how many cases?”

she rolled her eyes, loudly smacking her gum before smiling. “two.”

you let out a slow breath, sliding past her and through the dining area. once you reached the double push doors that lead into the kitchen, your hand reaches out to step inside but a warm, rough grip landing on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“didn’t anyone teach you it isn’t polite to stare?” rafe’s deep, smooth voice said, the sound traveling straight between your legs.

your eyes flit down to where he’s grasping your wrist, butterflies and warmth filling your tummy at the feel of his skin against yours. his touch burned your skin, warming you from the inside out. you stared at him for a short moment, a small smile tilting his lips at your lack of response.

“can you not speak?” he says lowly.

you startle from your trance, forcing your eyes on his. blue. so fucking blue you felt as if you’d drown if you stared too long.

you finally shook your wrist from his grasp, pushing open the kitchen doors, stopping halfway inside before you said, “i’m sorry… i- i don’t really have a reason for staring i just.. my apologies mr. cameron.”

sucking in a deep breath you disappear into the kitchen, rounding a corner and pulling open the walk-in coolers door. you step inside, shaking off the nerves and tension that ran through you. looking down at your wrist you swore you could still feel him, touching you, gripping your wrist so tightly you thought he wanted to burn his fingerprints into your skin.

the cold air of the large cooler did nothing to tame the fire burning throughout your entire body. you’d lived on this island your entire life, grown up here, you’d known who rafe was since you were old enough to grasp people’s names. but he’d never acknowledged your existence, not until today.

you slowly breathe in through your nose, slowly pushing it back out through your mouth. it was fine. you were fine. he’s just another man.

after collecting yourself you’d decided you’d been back here long enough, estelle was going to rip you a new one for taking so long to grab two cases of bud light, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. gripping the two cases of beer, you pushed the cooler door open with your shoulder, made your way through the kitchen and back into the dining area. with your head down, firm grip on the cases of beer, you walked straight to the bar.

a scoff sounds behind you, making you roll your eyes to yourself.

“if i would’ve known it’d take you nearly twenty minutes to grab two cases of beer, i would’ve just done it myself.” estelle snips, jerking the two cases from your hands and making her way to the other end of the bar.

you let out a defeated sigh, bracing your hands on the bar and letting your head hang. there was only three hours left in your shift. you’d be fine, you could do this.

but when you lifted your head, looking back in the direction of where rafe stood, your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you found he was already looking right at you.

—

“thank you mr. jennings, i’ll be sure to bring you some apple pie next time i make it,” you smile at the older gentleman as he finishes his drink, setting the glass down and wishing you a good night. “good night, sir. get home safely.”

once the older man disappears out the front doors you let out a long sigh. you were exhausted. he was the last guest in for the night, and you were ready to close the bar down and go home.

your boss locks the doors, nothing but the sounds of kitchen workers moving about to close the kitchen and a faint beat of the music playing through the club’s speakers filled the air.

you make quick work of wiping everything down, organizing the liquor bottles— most expensive up top, mid priced in the middle and cheap liquor down low — and setting the last bit of glasses into the bars dishwasher. once you finish, you wipe your hands on a worn white sani-rag, printing out your end of the night report and grab your stuff before heading into the back to collect your money for the night.

it doesn’t take long to get settled with josh, exiting his office and clocking out before you’re stepping out into the back parking lot. the humid, salty air hits your skin and you suck in a welcome breath, not realizing you’d been desperate for fresh air until now.

“can we talk about that staring problem of yours now?”

your body tenses at the low, raspy voice. you slowly turn toward the parking spaces, finding rafe cameron leaned against his truck, arms crossed over his chest.

“i.. why are you back here? members park out front, you know?”

rafe laughs, pushing off his truck and tucking his hands in his pockets. “yeah, well, i knew you’d be back here.”

your heart skips a beat, the humid air feeling thicker all of a sudden, making it hard to breathe. you pull your hair out of the messy bun you’d put it in while closing the bar, letting your unruly strands fall down your back. rafe’s eyes tracked the movements, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“still can’t speak? it’s not polite to ignore. we really need to work on your manners. staring, not responding when spoken to…”

he slowly begins walking toward you, your heart pounding wildly in your chest with every step he took. it isn’t until he’s standing directly in front of you that you snap out of the trance you’d been in, taking one slow step back.

rafe smirks, a small and subtle smirk but it’s there nonetheless.

“are you scared of me?” he says lowly, taking one step forward, closing the distance again.

“no.” you breathed out, swallowing thickly and staring up into his eyes.

he reaches out a hand, running his ringed fingers down your cheek. you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut. rafe’s hand drops back down to his side, “you going home for the night?”

you blink rapidly, trying to clear the lust filled fog that’s clouded your mind. “y-yeah. i’m going home.”

he chuckles. “come to my house, we can hang out.”

what? did rafe cameron just invite you to come hang out at tannyhill? the part of you that was infatuated with him was jumping for joy, you’d always wondered what it’d be like to hang out with rafe cameron. but the logical part of you was questioning why he wanted to hang out with you.

“w-why?” you asked hesitantly.

rafe’s fingers grab at a piece of your hair, twirling it around in his fingers before dropping it. “could be fun. come on, don’t tell me you’re scared of fun?”

your breath hitches in your throat. you’re not sure why he’s being so persistent, but you don’t want him to think you’re just like everyone else on this island, terrified of him. with a bright smile, you reply, “of course not. let’s go, could be fun, right?”

rafe grins, the sides of his eyes crinkling from how big his smile was. “right. let’s go.”

he grabs your hand, pulling you the few steps back toward his truck and opening the passenger door for you. once you’re inside and buckled, he closes it, and you take the few seconds it takes him to round the truck and get in to soak in your surroundings.

it smells like him. expensive cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke. the smell is oddly intoxicating. you breathe in deeply through your nose, letting it out slowly as your eyes take in the expensive leather interior, running your finger across the dash. not a speck of dust in sight, not surprising for a man like rafe cameron.

rafe climbs into his truck, his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as he stares over at you. you force yourself to meet his gaze, chuckling nervously. “what?”

he breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and running his hands down the sides of the steering wheel, placing his key in the ignition and bringing the trucks engine to life. “nothing.”

the drive to tannyhill isn’t long, maybe ten minutes tops, but the silence that filled the air between the two of you was so thick, filled with something you couldn’t quite discern. rafe stops outside the tall, metal gates, rolling his window down and typing a code into the small security code box. the gates roll open slowly, and rafe pulls up the long driveway, stopping his truck at the front door.

he kills the engine, casting you a quick glance before he’s opening his door. “you coming?” he asks.

you swallow around the nerves you’re feeling, nodding your head and opening your own door. you follow rafe silently up the steps to the front porch, stopping behind him while he makes quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

he steps inside, tossing his keys onto a table beside the door before walking toward the kitchen, leaving you to shut the door and stand awkwardly in the entryway. he pops his head around a corner seconds later, “you gonna stand there all night, or do you want a drink?”

oh. well, you should’ve known he wanted you to follow him, that was your mistake. you were just so nervous, you couldn’t think straight.

you made your way into the kitchen, finding rafe standing at the large marble island that sat in the middle of the spacious room. he smiles when his eyes find yours. “stop being so nervous, ahhh.. sorry, what was your name again?”

you smile, telling him your name before shifting the conversation to his house. “this place is nice, did you get it when your dad-” you stopped yourself, noticing the tension in his shoulders before he quickly shook it off, turning to grab two glasses out of the cupboard. he places them gently on the island, grabbing an expensive bottle of whiskey from another cupboard and pouring one of the glasses full. “whiskey?” he asks, his eyebrows rose as he watched you.

“no thank you, i’ll just have water.”

he laughs at that. “if you insist.”

he opens the fridge, pouring water into your cup from one of those fancy filtered water pitchers before placing it back in its spot and handing you the glass. he grabs his own glass, bringing it to his lips and studying your features.

he lets out a breath, sipping from his glass before setting it down and leaning back against the counter. “so, how long have you lived here, sweetheart?”

you choke on your sip of water, the pet name catching you completely off guard. you lift your head to find an amused rafe staring back at you, the corners of his lips slightly lifted in a smirk. “shit, sorry,” you apologize.

he laughs, a deep, true laugh before pushing off the counter and grabbing you some paper towels. he lets you wipe your face before he’s cleaning off the counter top and tossing the paper towels into the trash. he makes his way back toward you, his eyes dragging slowly from your feet all the way up to the top of your head. he bites at his bottom lip, “you never answered me, how long have you lived on kildare?”

you crane your neck to look up into his eyes. “my whole life.. so twenty-three years.”

he reaches out to push some hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “so you’re only two years younger than me.. and you work at the club, so you’re not from figure eight… pogue i’m assuming?”

you swallow around the knot in your throat, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you when rafe reaches out and pulls your bottom lip from between your teeth, his thumb pressing firmly against it before he’s pulling away.

“you’re very pretty, it’s a shame i didn’t know you existed until now.”

his words stung more than they should’ve. you knew he didn’t know you existed, it was painfully obvious in the way he never recognized your pining for him since you were old enough to understand what it meant to have feelings for a boy. he was kook prince. high up on the food chain. and you were just… you. but hearing him say it out loud was like a slap to the face.

rafe’s warm hand cupping your cheek snaps you out of your pity party, his words caressing you. “stop thinking so much. i was a piece of shit back then, you know it. i know it. this entire goddamn island knows it.”

you knit your brows in confusion. “you’re not a piece of shit, rafe. you went through a lot.”

he gives a dry laugh. “that’s the understatement of the century.”

he turns to grab his glass, downing it in one go before he’s facing you again. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and the air is so thick with sexual tension you could cut it with a knife. rafe’s eyes flit from yours and down to your lips, his thoughts written all over his face. he wanted to kiss you.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, watching as rafe tracks the movement with his eyes. he groans, the sound deep and causing your panties to grow wet with arousal. when rafe’s eyes meet yours again they’re dark with lust, the tension in the room now suffocating you.

“rafe.. what do you-”

your words die on your tongue when rafe grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling your face into his and smashing his lips with yours. your hands grip at his arms, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving behind crescent shaped moons in his smooth skin. rafe groans into your mouth, his hands running down your sides and gripping your thighs. his rough palms squeeze at your bare thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the counter.

you moan when rafe’s lips trail from your lips to your neck, working down to your jaw and chest. his teeth nip at your jawline, pulling a small whimper from you. he soothes where he’d bitten with his tongue, the wet and warm muscle against your skin causing goosebumps to sprout on your arms.

“take this off.” rafe groans, his fingers tugging at your island club polo that’s tucked into your baby blue skirt.

you quickly comply, pulling the polo out from where its tucked into your skirt and over your head. your eyes land on rafe’s both of your chests heaving with heavy breaths as you sit shirtless in front of the man you’d only ever dreamed about.

rafe’s fingers brush up the length of your bare stomach, stopping once they reach the under wire of your bra. he flattens his hand, running it up and over the fabric of your lace bra, cupping one of your tits in his hand and squeezing at it softly. your hands fly behind you, palms flat against the countertop while you throw your head back. rafe switches to the other breast, giving it equal attention, pinching a nipple between his fingers and pulling before releasing.

the loss of rafe’s touch has your head lifting, finding him standing in front of you, breathless and unsure of what to do next. you reach your hand out, tugging at his white polo, silently begging him to take it off.

rafe pulls off the shirt, tossing it to the floor with yours before his eyes are on you again. “you sure about this? we don’t even know each other… we don’t have-”

you shush him, running your hands up his toned stomach before wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull him forward, placing a soft kiss against his lips. “shhh.. don’t ruin it, rafe. don’t think about it. just do it. whatever you want.”

rafe’s eyes darken at your words. you’d just told him he could do whatever he wanted with you. he kisses you again, soft and slow while his fingers made quick work unclasping your bra, letting it fall in your lap. next he’s working your skirt off you, breaking his lips from yours to take in the lacey white thong you wore. he smirked when he saw the small wet patch in your panties.

“someone’s needy.” he jokes, pushing his fingers into the waistband and sliding the panties down your thighs. you lift your ass off the counter to help him remove your thong, watching him intently as he tosses it to the floor.

your lips slightly part, opening them to speak but a squeal comes out in their place when rafe grips your thighs and pulls your ass toward the edge of the counter. “lay back f’me, spread your legs.”

you do as he says, laying back against the counter, your feet flat on the edge as you spread your legs wide for him. a low growl rumbles out of rafe when his eyes land on your swollen, dripping pussy.

“god you’re so wet,” he rasps, dropping into a squatted position, his face pressing between your legs and inhaling your scent. “smell so fuckin’ sweet… bet you taste sweet too.”

a moan escapes you when rafe’s lips begin kissing at your inner thighs, working their way toward your clit. he softly kisses your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips bucking up. rafe chuckles, placing one hand on your hip and pushing you back down while his other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

he licks a hot stripe through your slick folds up to your clit, giving it a slight flick of his tongue. your head rolls to the side on the counter, hands flying to his buzzed head. you run your hands over his head, relishing in the feel of his buzzcut beneath your palms, moans and whimpers escaping you as rafe works your pussy with his mouth and tongue. he sucks your clit into his mouth, releasing your thigh and pressing his middle finger inside you.

he mumbles something unintelligible against your pussy, the vibrations making your inner walls flutter around his finger. rafe slowly works his finger in and out of you, slipping another inside when your thighs tense against the counter. he sucks and flicks at your clit, his fingers pushing in and out of you at a fast pace. you’re so close to coming, you can feel it in the way your body was tensing and your pussy was pulsing.

rafe releases your clit with a pop, his darkened over eyes finding yours as he continued to work you with his fingers. “i need to hear you, baby. not just feel you. let me hear how good you feel.”

your hands fall, a loud thwack resounding in the air from how hard you’d smacked the countertop. you scream out rafe’s name, your legs shaking as rafe goes back to sucking and licking at your clit, his thick fingers never slowing their movements.

“oh god… rafe! please? please fuck… feels so good.” you moan, your fingers digging into his neck again.

you feel rafe smile against your pussy, his tongue giving slow licks to your clit before he’s sucking it into his mouth again. your orgasm rushes through your seconds later, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you grip rafe’s neck, trying to keep yourself grounded.

rafe’s tongue and fingers work you through the high, never stopping until your body goes limp on the counter. he removes his face from between your legs, standing to his full height and smiling down at you.

“yeah… you’re so fuckin’ sweet.” rafe rasps, popping the button of his khakis before pulling down the zipper and sliding them down his legs. once he removes his boxers, your eyes widen at the sight of his long and thick cock.

rafe smirks, stroking himself slowly as he says, “don’t worry baby, it’s gonna feel so good. just lay back and let me take care of you.”

tagging some moots: @quinnsbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa @rafescvntyclubgf @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @maybejj @cherryobx @memoirofasparklemuff1n @kiiyomei @dementedkittenribbon @hauntedfawnn

[madebycloud]

No Erase

violet "vi" x female reader — 𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: on valentine's day, and you've finally worked up the courage to write a letter to your crush confessing your feelings. unfortunately, your friend accidentally gives the letter to the one person you can't stand. warnings/themes: fluff, one sided enemies, valentines, kissing cam, angry confessions, fast burn ig, mordern au words: 10.9k

You look at the letter in your desk, which you spent at least six hours working on to make sure it's perfect. Not just to make sure the words you're choosing are perfect, though—you want to make sure your handwriting is perfect enough that it doesn't look sloppy.

You grab the letter and read it over one last time… lovey-dovey bullshit, sappy stuff, romantic nonsense, etc.

You cringe at the last words, “Meet me at the bleachers... recess.”

It's so cliché, so stereotypical, and maybe you've had a couple too many cheesy romance movies in the past month. You've probably read a dozen fanfics that start like this.

If it were done by anyone other than yourself, you'd think it was absolutely dumb and corny as hell.

You know you could just message them through snapchat or on insta, or facebook, even just confessing through their email is a good idea… but, no, you just can't do that.

What if you say the wrong thing? what if you just happen to say something extremely cringy in your message? what if they screenshot it and put it on their story for everyone to see? what if they reply with “who is this...?” what if they start ignoring you?

Plus, you love your phone too damn much, and you know you're gonna end up throwing the damn thing because of the absolute panic you're gonna feel when your finger hits that send button.

You probably should have just sent a carrier pigeon or something… at least they could eat that.

Oh wait.

You forgot one thing.

You look around your room, trying to figure out what you left out. Your penmanship is on point, the words are as romantic as they could be, and the grammar is perfect... but what's missing?

The perfume.

The bottle of perfume is on your dresser, hiding behind the jewelry case. You spray it liberally, making sure the paper absorbs the smell of it, before finally folding it up neatly and placing it in the envelope. You seal the envelope with a kiss to the paper and hope it's the ‘special touch’ that it needs.

The smell is nice, just enough to have the paper absorbing it nicely, but not enough to be overwhelming (even if you love the perfume to death). You also want your recipient to be able to read the letter without cringing.

Okay, now it's really done. It's romantic, it smells good, and it's as perfect as you can get it.

Tomorrow's the day, and you finally feel confident. You have everything ready to go, you just have to figure out how to get your friend to deliver it to your crush's locker.

As you get ready for bed, the only thing you can't stop thinking about is how tomorrow will go.

Will they love the letter? will they finally realize the feelings you have for them and confess their own feelings? who knows?

—

“Come on,” you whine, begging Ekko for the fifth time. “Just do me this favor, please?”

Ekko just scoffs and gestures to the table. “I already told you, I have all of these-” he motions to the dozens of letters in front of him, “-that i'm supposed to deliver for girls that are crushing on Caitlyn.” He sighs. “I can't add any more to my to do list.”

“Please?” you beg, waving the envelope at him. “It's really important.”

Ekko groans and slumps forward, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Why can't you just deliver it yourself?”

“It's kinda.. embarrassing… for me to deliver it myself…” You fidget awkwardly.

“Ugh.” Ekko groans again but gives in. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up straight and grabbing the letter from you.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ekko waves his hand dismissively. He stands up and stretches out, letting out a deep sigh as he does. “Just remind me what locker number it is?” he asks, shoving the letters into his bag.

“Locker number is 13 C,” you reply, watching as Ekko slings his bag over his shoulder and starts walking out of the cafeteria. “It's pretty much right next to Caitlyn's, so you won't be missing it.”

“Got it,” he says, turning around and flashing a grin at you. “See ya later.” He gives you a salute before he disappears. 

Finally.

After months of keeping your feelings quiet, your secret would be revealed. You just have to hope that it doesn't blow up in your face.

—

Ekko walks down the hallway, scanning through the numbers above the lockers until he finds the one he's looking for.

Caitlyn's locker.

He scans the area for any sign of Caitlyn, and luckily for him, the coast is clear.

He pulls out the envelopes from his bag, each one slightly crinkled from being stuffed in there. He counts up the total- ten, no, twelve... wait. Fifteen? that's more than he thought, he could have sworn there were less. He dumps all the letters on top of the locker hole.

He looks down at the remaining letter in his hand. Right, that one isn't for her. He sighs and places the letter next to her locker, just like he was told to do.

He gives the locker one last look but doesn't give it a second thought and starts walking away, whistling as he goes.

But... what Ekko didn't know is that instead of placing it into the locker next to it, he accidentally dumped it into 11C, aka, Vi's locker.

—

You wait at the entrance of your school, impatiently bouncing on your feet. Valentine's day is tomorrow, and you can't wait for your crush to read the letter you poured your heart into.

Then, you spot Ekko, and you're quick to greet him. “Hey!” You throw an arm around his shoulders. “So, did you put it in?”

He nods, gesturing to the school doors. “Yeah, I did.”

You sigh, relieved that the letter is in your crush's locker and will likely be seen by them soon. “Thanks.” You give him a squeeze on the shoulder before letting go of him. “I seriously owe you one for this.”

Ekko just brushes you off. “It's nothing.” He shrugs and shoves his hands in his pockets as you start walking into the courtyard. “Just doing my good deed of the day.”

“Mhm, hopefully tomorrow goes as planned,” you say, “I just hope they like it…”

—

Tomorrow finally comes, and it's the day you've been patiently waiting for. Valentine's day.

You're in your first class, waiting for your teacher to come in. You're distracted, your mind racing with thoughts about what your crush thinks of the letter.

Then, someone suddenly sits next to you, and you turn to look at-

“What the hell?” you blurt out, looking at Vi as she makes herself comfortable in the chair.

Vi smirks. “Hey,” she greets.

That smirk alone pisses you off.

You still haven't gotten over the fact that because of her, your grades had taken a nosedive. The two of you had been paired together in science class, and she'd somehow managed to blow up the experiment, all because she wasn't paying attention.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you snap, glaring at her.

She simply glances at you, then back at the desk she's sitting on. “What do you think? I'm sitting.”

The audacity? 

“I know that, but why are you sitting next to me?”

“Come on, don't act like you don't know.” She throws in a wink, and your disgust quickly multiplies.

“Excuse me?” you sputter, completely caught off guard by her sudden flirtatious behavior.

“You really gonna act like you don't know?"

“No?”

She scoffs and leans towards you, smirk on her lips. “I mean,” she adds, eyeing you up and down, “I thought you'd be... happy... to see me.”

You're stunned, confused, and quite frankly, grossed out. “Happy to—WHY ON EARTH would I be happy to see you?” you spit out.

She huffs and slumps back into the chair. “Oh wow, thanks for the warm welcome.”

“Well, what did you expect? You haven't exactly been... pleasant to be around.”

She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to reply but stops short as the teacher enters the classroom.

She finally shuts up, and you're left wondering what just happened. Why in the world is someone who is a pain in your butt cheeks suddenly flirting with you? is there something wrong with her? or has she lost her damn mind?

—

It's recess, and you're sitting on the bleachers, waiting for your crush to show up.

Your palms are sweating, you're starting to worry that your armpits are going to start smelling, you're probably going to end up throwing up on someone's shoes.

The letter was probably too much. The words were too romantic. The whole cliché “meet me at the bleachers” thing was just cringe. Who wrote that? oh right... you did.

But even if the outcome isn't what you hope for, at least you've got a good story to tell later or maybe a good reason to drown yourself in ice cream and cheesy rom-com movies.

You look around the bleachers once, twice, three times. You try to avoid glancing at your phone, but the urge to check the time only grows stronger.

It doesn't help that a couple of assholes are sitting a few feet away from you, loudly laughing at some video playing on one of their phones.

Recess is almost over, and your crush is still not here. Where the hell are they?

Maybe they could possibly be in the bathroom, having a nervous breakdown like you were? or maybe they're just taking their sweet time, making sure they're looking perfect?

Or maybe they're not coming at all.

And then you hear footsteps coming your way,

THIS IS IT.

Is your hair okay? yes. Are your teeth brushed? yes, dumbass.

You quickly wipe your sweaty palms, trying to calm your racing heart. You turn around, ready to see the face of an angel, the face of a goddamn god-

But instead you see the face of someone you'd rather shove into a brick wall.

Vi.

Why the hell is she... smiling at you?

“Damn, you look good from this angle.” 

WHAT?

Why is this goddamn lesbian here with that stupid smile on her face?

“Why are you here?”

“Isn't it obvious? I'm here to see you.” She pulls out an oddly familiar envelope from her pocket and holds it in her hand, and you realize why it's so familiar.

Wait...  that's your letter!

The one you wrote to your crush. The one that's meant to be in their locker, not in her damn hands.

How the hell did it end up with her?

She looks at the envelope, studying the handwriting on it, and then her eyes lock with yours again. “This is yours, right?”

Your hand quickly snatches the envelope from her hand. “How the fuck did you get that?”

Vi quickly snatches the envelope away, holding it out of your reach. “Whoa, woah, wait-”

“Give me that!” You lunge for the envelope, but she sidesteps you.

Vi laughs, holding the envelope away from you. “Isn't this for me?” She opens the envelope and throws it aside, then pulls out the letter and starts reading it aloud. “Dear... what the hell, how do you... whatever. Dear blah, blah, blah, happy valentine's da-”

“-SHUT UP!” You try to snatch the letter again.

“Hey, I'm not done reading it yet! This is my valentine's gift, after all.”

“That letter is meant for someone else!”

“Really? Then why did I find it in my locker?”

“Wait, what? You found it in—you're joking, right?”

She shakes her head, waving the letter in front of you. “Nope, I'm not joking.”

“How did you-”

“Someone put it in my locker.”

“That's impossible! I would never—I mean to you? there's no way that was meant for you.”

Vi squints at the words in the letter, then looks up at you again. “But this is definitely written in your handwriting, right?”

How did it end up in her locker? and how the hell does she even know what your handwriting looks like?

Your eyes dart from the letter in her hands to her face. Yes, it's definitely your handwriting. Yes, it's definitely the same stupid letter you wrote because you're a hopeless romantic.

“Maybe,” you grumble.

“Maybe? so it is yours?”

You avoid her gaze, avoiding her smug look.

She starts reading over the letter again, reading it aloud. “Meet me at the bleachers, how goddamn cliché-”

“STOP READING IT!”

“Damn, I didn't think you could be this corny.”

“Shut up, just-” You try to snatch the letter out of her hand once again, but she pulls her arm away.

“You wrote this much for someone?”

“Why do you care so damn much, anyway? You didn't get a valentine gift or something?” and now you're just being bitchy as well.

“What are you, ten?” she retorts.

“And what are you, an idiot?”

“I'm not an idiot, unlike you.”

“Oh, wow, are we back in sixth grade now?”

She looks down at the letter. “I'm not the one who wrote a heartfelt letter for someone who probably doesn't even like you.”

“And how the hell would you know?”

“Have you even talked to them before?” She lifts her head, her smirk coming back when you didn't answer. “Since whoever the hell you have a crush on doesn't like you-”

“They could still-”

“See, everyone has a valentine. Well, almost everyone, which means your crush probably got one too.”

“Yeah, 'cause you got that letter they were supposed to receive.”

“Maybe I was meant to have it then.”

“You're seriously that sure that the universe wants you to have this?”

“Maybe it's a sign.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Are you just dumb on purpose?”

She grins. “I'm not doing it on purpose, and maybe it's a sign that I should be your valentine, that the universe is trying to tell you something.”

You roll your eyes. “Wow, so confident. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're actually serious.”

“And what if I am serious?” You look at her blankly as she shrugs. She actually thinks she's funny. “I mean, you don't have a valentine, which does kind of suck, and I don't have one, which is by choice, by the way, so I think the universe is clearly telling us something.”

What the actual hell is wrong with her today? she didn't get enough sleep or something, and now she's acting like... like this? this is weird.

She's being weird. 

“What, is the universe now trying to set us up? really? we're gonna get a movie based off this?”

“Hey, no one said this was a movie, maybe it's just a cute little high school romance,” she argues back. “Plus, you put a lot of work into this letter, and I'd hate for it to go to waste.”

“I'm not in the mood to start a cute little high school romance with you, okay?”

She heaves a dramatic sigh. “Look,” she says, holding up a hand to stop you from replying, “it's valentine's day, right? and we both don't have anyone, so it's just... for today, we can, you know... see what happens, and if it doesn't work out, then we can just leave it alone and go back the way we were.”

You blink slowly. “That sounds worse than your whole ‘the universe wants us together’ bullshit.”

“Wow, don't act like the idea of it is so awful. I mean, I'm not that bad, right?”

You're going to disagree with that with every single cell in your body, but you decide not to, instead, you just remain silent.

Vi seems to take your silence as agreement because she gives you this insufferable smirk like she just won something.

She continues. “It makes sense if you think about it. We're both single, you're already in a lovesick mood because of this,” she gestures at the letter, “so if we do, you know... we can get it out of your system, and you won't have to spend the rest of the school year pining over some person who is probably ignoring you anyway.”

Why is she making some sense? no, why is she sounding like... a good option all of a sudden?

“It's just for today,” she reminds you again. “We'll just see where it goes. Who knows, you might actually have some fun with me.”

This feels like you're cheating on your crush for even entertaining this stupid plan. 

“You're basically saying that we're going to spend one day together and then you'll ditch me?” you retort.

“No, that's not what I'm saying,” she corrects you. “I'm saying we're gonna spend one day together, and if it doesn't work out, then we go our separate ways. It's just one day, it can't hurt. It won't be such a big deal.”

“I'm not going to be your one day entertainment.”

“Who said you'd be my entertainment?” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at you. “You and I both know you have no other options. What're you gonna do instead, go home and cry over this person who doesn't even know you exist, or just spend the day wallowing in self pity while the rest of the school is celebrating love and stuff with their actual valentines?”

You wince at her harsh words because...  she's got a point.

You don't have anyone to spend this day with, and the person you'd want to spend it with will probably spend it with someone else... so yeah, you have no plans, and yeah, you're probably going to just go home and wallow in self pity, wishing that today was over already.

What would happen, actually? if you go along with her stupid plan. You could finally have an escape from pining over your stupid crush who probably doesn't even notice you.

“Fine.” You snatch the letter back from her.

“Wait, what? really?” She's actually surprised. No wonder, she's the one who came up with this stupid plan in the first place.

“I am,” you say, “you don't want me to?”

She huffs out a laugh. “No, no, of course not. I just… didn't expect you to actually agree.”

“And why is that?”

“I don't know, I figured you'd still have a little bit of decency left in you.”

What a backhanded compliment. “I have plenty of decency left in me, it's you who I'd question, and besides... it's just for today.” You fold the letter and shove it into your pocket.

Vi hums, not taking that offense to your comment. “Just today,” she repeats. “Then tomorrow, boom, everything goes back to normal.”

You nod. “Back to normal.”

“I could kiss you right now.”

Whoa woah woah. Calm down. “Ew, what?”

“I didn't say I will kiss you,” she points out, “I said I could.”

You could say something mean to her words, you could try to change the subject or you could just walk away and forget this conversation ever happened.

But what you actually say is, “What's stopping you then?”

You hate how that sounds so casual. It wasn't meant to come out like that. What the hell?

You're not entirely sure, but something is definitely encouraging you to keep this going. Is it because you find everything she does annoying or that you've been pent-up over your stupid crush lately and you need to get it out of your system?

Vi raises an eyebrow at your words. “You want me to kiss you?” The words drip out of her mouth, like honey on a spoon.

“No,” you reply on instinct, because of course not.

But you can't stop the way your eyes flicker down to look at her lips. You look back at her face, and you know damn well she saw you look down at her lips, but she doesn't say anything about it.

“So now that it's official... you're my valentine, and today, we're going to have the shittiest, most awesome date-” she coughs, “-i mean hangout, that you'll ever have.”

“I doubt it.”

“Hey,” she says, “don't underestimate me, okay? I know how to have a good time,” and then she, god help you, she winks at you.

She looks like she's about to say something more, but she stops when the bell rings.

“Meet me at the parking lot after class?” she asks.

You find yourself nodding. “Yeah, sure.” You look at the field for a second and then look back, just so you can catch her reaction—and it's not at all what you were expecting. She's...  blushing?

It's subtle, more subtle than you'd think, but her cheeks are definitely red, and when she realizes you notice her, she looks away.

She looks embarrassed.

She's embarrassed?

“Anyway, see you there... valentine.” She doesn't look at you. “Try not to miss me too much.”

What? miss her? She sounds like she's trying to joke about it, but something about the way she says it sounds sincere? What the fuck?

She starts to walk away. You're pretty sure you see another smile on her face, and if you didn't like her so much, you'd probably like how she looks when she does.

But you remind yourself, this is Vi.

The same Vi you've known for years, the same Vi who made your grades worse because of a stupid experiment, the same Vi who you'd probably love to throw out the nearest window if you could, and the same Vi you can't stand.

You force yourself to turn away, and you start to walk back to the school building. You try to push the image of her stupid blushing face and her stupid pretty smile out of your brain because you are not... going to make the mistake of being attracted to her.

—

Time passes by more slowly than a snail.

What's the saying...? ‘A watched pot never boils?’ You're pretty sure you could watch paint dry, and it would move at a faster pace.

Why is time passing so slowly today?

You're not sure if it's because you have this... ‘hangout’ to expect at the end of the day or if it's because you keep getting distracted by the thoughts of what is going to happen later.

What you do know is that you end up spacing out way too much more than a person should.

Thankfully, you don't have any homework, but your notes for the day are just absolutely horrible, a mindless mess of scribbles and pointless words. You're definitely going to regret this later.

The last bell mercifully rings just as you're in the middle of doodling a small sketch of Vi's face in the corner of your notes.

You quickly shut your notebook and stuffed everything into your bag.

You need to find your goddamn common sense first, but it seems to have left the room before you could.

The hallway is a goddamn mess.

Kids are running everywhere in the halls, screaming loud as hell, some girl is trying to stuff her locker to the point where it's going to explode, and some kid has got a goddamn boombox and is blasting music from it. There's the hallway drama that everyone loves listening to even though they should be minding their own business.

Seriously, it feels like you're in the middle of a goddamn jungle with the amount of people screaming.

Walking to the parking lot takes longer than it usually would. When you get there, you see a familiar head of pink hair leaning against a red motor, scrolling through something on her phone.

She hasn't noticed you yet, and you find yourself unable to move your feet for a second.

She's just leaning back against the motorcycle, lazily swiping through something on her phone. She's even biting her lower lip slightly, and for some reason, you really don't know why that's such a good look on her.

Okay, what?

You need to stop letting your brain run away with these thoughts.

You are not going to act like a middle school idiot who just got caught looking at her crush or something. You're an intelligent, mature human being. You're definitely not some dumb kid with an embarrassing crush either. Definitely not.

The sunlight makes her glow, and when she looks up from her phone, you feel you're hit with a wave of goddamn sun poisoning because the sunlight hitting her eyes makes them shine.

She looks over and sees you, shoving her phone into her pocket. She gestures you over with a slight jerk of her head.

You force your feet to start cooperating and get your ass over there.

“Glad you came.” 

What kind of response would even be the right one for that? “Me too” would sound too enthusiastic. “Yep” sounds so disinterested, like you'd rather be anywhere else than here, when that might be partially true, but you're not trying to sound like a dick. “Same here” sounds like such a sarcastic tone, and “Of course I'm here, you're the one who forced me into this” would sound too rude.

Instead, you just say nothing, which she notices, of course.

“What, no smart shits today?”

“I have nothing to say to you,” you mutter as you turn your attention to the red motor behind her. You notice the scuffed up leather seat and the worn tires.

You then glance around the parking lot, wondering how many times you've seen this before. The motorcyclist who's always late to class, the seniors who smoke too much and are always ditching school, the students with cars who love to show off the brand new car their parents gave them, and the popular girls gossiping about some poor girl who can't afford nice clothes.

The sound of a motorcycle engine starting snaps you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see Vi getting onto the motorcycle

She pats the back seat behind her. “You getting on or what?”

“...is it like fast?”

“Is it like fast?"” she mimics in a childish tone before rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it's fast. Get on it and find out.”

“I just asked a question, no need to be a dick.”

“Are you always this bitchy?” she asks, then throws you a helmet. “Put this on.”

You catch the helmet, and you put it on. “Only around you.” You approach the motor and try not to comment on the poor condition and instead climb on behind her.

You have no idea what to do with your legs, so for a few seconds, you just awkwardly sit behind her, trying to position yourself like riding a horse.

“Are you gonna hold on?” Vi calls out.

“Hold on to what?”

“Me, dumbass. Grab my waist.”

“Hell no.”

“It's for your own safety.”

“I'm fine,” you shift around, trying to find a comfortable position.

Vi seems to start losing her patience with you. “If you want to fall off the bike mid ride and splatter onto someone's yard like a squashed bug, be my guest.”

That gets you to hold onto her waist out of pure spite.

“Just don't squeeze my abs too tight. I still need air.”

You scoff. “Who the hell is so narcissistic that they think something as simple as that would affect me?”

She huffs, amused by your snark, and puts on her own helmet. “It's not narcissism. It's just a joke,” she retorts. 

You scoff again, but your hand tightens around her waist reflexively.

She chuckles. “Knew you couldn't resist.”

You pinch her waist. “Just shut up and drive.”

She snorts. “Touchy, aren't we?”

“Yeah, I am,” you reply sarcastically, pinching her waist again.

“Hey!” she exclaims, then sighs. “Okay, fine. I'll stop, just stop it.”

She starts the motor, and the hum of the engine vibrates throughout your body. It's louder being sat on top of the thing compared to how it sounds when you're on the ground. You feel this rumble throughout your chest, and you really want to comment on the poor thing making that much noise.

“Just hold on tight.”

—

“FUCK YEAH! WOOO!” you shout, punching the air with your fist and standing up. It's hockey, but who cares? you're not a fan, not in the slightest, but you're still screaming and cheering, all in a bid to support the team.

Vi is right beside you, shouting as well, while she eats a hot dog and washes it down with soda. “I thought you hated hockey!” she shouts over the crowd's cheers.

You shrug, but it's impossible to respond. You can't hear each other over the sound of the audience's cheers.

A few of the people sitting in the same section as you give you some weird looks, like you suddenly went insane. Well, can you really blame them? it probably looks like you have the sudden urge to yell random things for no reason.

Vi is the only one who doesn't look at you like you're some lunatic, her gaze is focused on the game, all while cheering, and occasionally making comments about the players.

It's different compared to watching it on TV. You're actually there, in person, surrounded by people who share your excitement and are as loud as you or louder.

You're also next to the most annoying person ever, but you don't want to dwell on that.

You drop down, back into your seat, and lean back, stretching your legs out. Your thighs and legs are starting to feel like jelly from all that screaming and standing. “Damn,” you tell her, shaking your legs. “I think I just strained a muscle or something.”

Vi laughs and sits down on her seat. “You know, I've been around here for years now. I probably know some people here.” She glances around the crowd of people, scanning them like she's trying to find someone in particular.

“Oh yeah? who's that in the third row then?”

She follows the direction of your finger and immediately points at a random person. “That's Fred! I once went to elementary with him.”

You have no idea if she's making that up or not. “And what about the guy next to him with the big hat?”

Vi squints at the section you pointed at. “That's George.” She then points at a girl with a black jacket. “That's Sneha,” she pauses, her eyes catching someone in the distance, “and oh-” her hand abruptly changes direction, pointing forward, “-that's Jenny,” she says, waving her hand. “Yo, Jen!”

The old lady turns around and nods her greeting. “Hi sweetheart, how's it going?”

“Doing good, gramps. Just watching the game with this one.” She nudges at you.

The old lady turns to look at you, her face taking the form of a smile. “Ah, a girlfriend, I see.”

Girlfriend? What's she talking about? “Um, no. Just a friend.”

Vi's eyebrows rise as her whole mouth goes ajar. “Friend?” she repeats, “We're friends now?”

“Only for today. Don't get used to the idea.”

The old lady, Melinda, hums. “Is that so? well, enjoy the game, children.”

“Yeah, yeah, we will,” Vi responds to the old lady, and once the lady turns back to watch the game, she leans in close, bumping her shoulder into yours. “That's Jen. She's basically the team's grandma,” Vi explains. “She's been here for years, goes to almost every game.”

You watch the lady continue to watch the game. “So she's like a regular here.”

“Yeah, sometimes she talks about how things were better in ‘her day.’”

“You two seem close though,” you point out.

“She's old and friendly,” she says, scratching her cheek. “Plus, old ladies are always fond of me. I helped her one time with her groceries after one game, and now she thinks I'm a sweetheart.” Vi shrugs, taking another bite of her hotdog. “She's also a nice lady. Always has candy and stuff to give out to everyone.”

“Candy, huh?”

“Yep,” she swallows and smacks her lips to get any food out from her mouth. “She always has peppermint discs, peppermint sticks, and chocolate sticks in her bag.”

“Why do you know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“Why does she have candy anyway?”

Vi takes another bite. “Just something she likes to give out,” she says, between chews, then points at the old lady's lap. “That blue thing she's knitting is actually a hat. She likes to give that out too.”

“Really?”

Vi shrugs again, eating yet another mouthful of her food, still somehow managing to speak at the same time. “Yeah, and don't be fooled by the knitting and the candy. She could beat you in a game of arm wrestling. She's still really buff.”

You nod silently, impressed with this old lady.

When Vi swallows the last bit of her hotdog, she pulls out her phone and points it at you. “I'm gonna take a picture of you... and put it on Tinder.” The second the camera's click sounds off, it takes everything in you to not grab her phone and throw it across the goddamn stadium.

She continues taking pictures, each time saying something different, like, “Look at this one,” or “This one's really good.” She holds up the phone, showing you a picture that's... actually not half bad.  But you know giving her that reaction would just fuel her to do more, so instead, you scoff.

You turn your attention back to the stadium, trying to ignore whatever she's doing beside you. You look around. There are a surprising amount of men, guys, dudes, bros, etc. It's like they outnumber the women.

“There's a lot of dudes in here,” you comment. “Is it a testosterone fest over here, or what?”

Vi looks around as well. “Yep.”

“Do you think any of these guys like girls who love sports?”

Vi snorts. “Nah,” she replies, shoving her phone back into her pocket. “They're more interested in a girl who looks good in a jersey and knows how to bring them a cold beer.”

“So… basically they're only interested if we look cute and we don't open our mouths?”

“Pretty much.”

You groan. “I hate guys like that.”

“Hey, some guys aren't that bad,” she remarks.

“Yeah, and they're the ones in relationships.”

She thinks about it for a moment. “You know… I'm surprised you're not in a relationship.”

You give her a weird look. “Why?”

“Well, you're... y'know… cute.”

Is that a compliment or a fact? you are cute, you're aware of that, but still, it's weird how she said it and... did it look like there was a hint of something else in her tone of voice when she said that?

You force a smile, trying to brush it off. “Thanks.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, a silence you really want to fill with literally anything else than this weird awkwardness.

Just when the awkward silence couldn't possibly get more awkward, a sudden cheer from the crowd interrupts your thoughts. They're all looking up at something on top of the stadium. You furrow your brows before looking up, trying to see what it is they're looking at.

Your eyes land on the huge TV that's attached to the ceiling, and you see the words ‘KISSING CAM’ flashing in bright letters. The camera pans through the crowd, searching for a couple, and it lands on a couple who's sitting not too far from you.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” You look over at Vi and see her cupping her hands over her mouth. She's standing up and shouting at the couple to kiss.

You watch as the girl looks up and sees the camera pointed towards her and her boyfriend. She whispers something to him, and it doesn't take a genius to know what she just said. The guy grins and leans in, giving his girlfriend a sloppy, wet kiss.

The crowd goes crazy, cheering and whistling. The couple pulls away from each other, both of them smiling.

You look at Vi again, who's still standing up. She seems to be enjoying this a lot more than you are, and you can see hearts in her eyes.

Once it seems like the camera has recorded enough footage, it moves to the next couple.

It goes to a couple sitting not too far away from you. The guy looks uncomfortable, but his girlfriend is completely eager to show some public affection. She grabs his chin and kisses him, but it’s only a quick, chaste kiss.

Vi yells out, “Come on, put some effort into it!” and then she sits down, leaning back in the chair.

The camera pans through the crowd again, skipping over several couples until finally landing on a group of guys. They look like they're having the time of their life, yelling at the camera and making rude gestures.

“Ah, boys…” an older man next to you sighs.

The camera captures the guys for a while, they're all laughing and having a good time.

The camera moves away from the group of guys and lands on Vi and a girl sitting right next to her. 

Vi immediately makes some hand gestures, shaking her head and probably saying no. “We're not-” but before she can finish, the camera moves away from them, unsatisfied with this answer, and lands on the other girl sitting next to Vi.

You.

Fuck.

“KISS! KISS! KISS!” you hear someone, it sounds like the same person who cheered on the other couples.

You look over at Vi, who's watching you with this stupid smile on her face. You glare at her, she's clearly enjoying this way too much.

You lean over to her, through clenched teeth, you hiss, “This isn't funny.”

She shrugs, still smiling. “I think it is.”

“Well, I don't.” 

“It's only a kiss.”

“It’s still embarrassing.”

“Oh come on, it's Valentine's Day!” she replies. “What? are you worried that you'll suck at kissing or something?”

“Excuse me? I am an excellent kisser.”

“Oh yeah?” She quirks an eyebrow. “Then why are you so worried about this? it won't be some gross open mouth kiss, it'll be just a little peck.”

You narrow your eyes at her. “Because I don't want to be seen kissing in public, in front of hundreds of people,” you say, lowering your voice, “And I definitely do not want to kiss you.”

“Come on, you don't have to sound so disgusted by the idea of kissing me.”

“Because I am,” you say simply. “I don't want to kiss you anymore than you'd want to kiss me.”

“I never said I didn't want to kiss you.”

That statement takes you by surprise, you had just assumed that she would be grossed out by the thought of kissing you.

The chants start to get louder as more and more people join in. “KISS! KISS! KISS!”

You hear the same guy from before. “Kiss! c'mon! it's just a quick kiss, do it.”

You hear another girl from behind you. “Oh, come on! one little kiss! what's the big deal?”

It's no big deal. 

But at the same time, you're starting to panic. You don't even know how to act right now, are you supposed to play along with this? are you supposed to ignore it? what the hell is happening?!

Your brain is starting to mush into mush because why are so many people chanting? why are they making such a big deal out of this? it's just a kiss, right? right… so why are you so nervous?

You turn your head to see Vi looking at you, her eyes staring into your soul.

“A kiss on the cheek will do,” she says aloud.

You're going to die.

Your heart is going to explode right here, in the middle of the stadium, and then your guts are going to spill out right in front of everybody.

Maybe it's best just to get this over with?

All you have to do is... just a kiss on the cheek. That's it.

You just have to get it over with before this turns into something bigger.

You're not really gonna enjoy this, you'd just get the feeling like you should have brushed your teeth harder in the morning.

Vi's not even attractive in the way that you would want to kiss her cheek, her skin probably sucks from waking up in the mornings, there's no way she remembers to wash her hair at least three times a week. What about her breath? There is no way that she actually brushes her teeth every day. Her breath probably tastes like stale cheetos and mountain dew. There is no way you're gonna get a single bit of pleasure from kissing her cheek.

But you do it anyway.

You press a kiss on her cheek, and it's... warm, and they burn under your lips. The smell of her body spray isn't overwhelming. It's subtle and pleasant. Her hair isn't as greasy as you imagined, and it feels kinda nice when your fingers brush against the side of her face. Her breath doesn't even smell like mountain dew and cheetos, it's actually minty and fresh, like she just ate a pack of gum.

You pull your face away before you let your brain get to you, but you just keep looking at her face because there is this huge grin plastered on her face that makes your heart beat faster. Her cheeks look red, and the tips of her ears are even red too.

The crowd goes nuts. You can barely hear the music or the announcers over the chanting. The kiss had lasted all but a few seconds, but the feeling on your lips linger.

You're both looking at each other like you've just seen each other for the very first time.

She's actually gorgeous.

How is it possible that you only now realized how beautiful she looks?

You look away, but even in your peripheral vision, you can see her looking at you. There's still a stupid grin on her face, and she looks happy.

She's actually happy that you kissed her on the cheek.

—

You and Vi are sitting in the parking lot after the game ends. Vi had bought some $5 pizza, but since the place is packed, you're now sitting in the parking lot with Vi's motorcycle parked behind you.

“I'm gonna be honest,” Vi starts, her face twisted up as she chews on a slice of pizza. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

You hum, nodding along.

Vi takes another bite, a big one, and chews on it, her cheeks stuffed. She swallows and sighs contently. “Man, I should have bought two boxes,” she grumbles, looking down at the one last slice left in the box. Then, she looks up, straight at you, and grins. “You want the last slice?” she offers, holding up the box with the slice still left in it.

You shake your head, and she looks at you with skepticism. “Are you sure you don't want it?”

“I had three slices already, I'm fine.”

Vi looks at the slice of pizza that's still in the box, then at you. She looks like she's considering something, then shrugs and pops the slice into her mouth. “Suit yourself,” she says, the words garbled since her mouth is still full of food.

Something about this moment feels... comfortable. Strangely comfortable.

It's weird. You don't understand why you don't feel threatened or uncomfortable or annoyed or any of those things, even though she's sitting right next to you.

But, oddly enough, you feel safe.

Or maybe that's just because you can't think of anything to say.

Or maybe it's because the silence isn't awkward.

Or maybe it's because you're distracted by the way she seems to enjoy her food.

Because... it's so... weirdly satisfying, watching her chew her food, watching her swallow, watching her use the back of her hand to wipe off the sauce on her chin.

You have no idea why you're paying attention to those little details.

But... you are.

You're not sure when you started paying attention to those.

You're not sure why you feel so comfortable around her right now.

You're not sure of a lot of things, actually.

You're not sure how to feel at the moment, or when your dislike of her had dwindled down to... whatever the hell this is, to whatever this weird, unfamiliar feeling in your chest is.

You're not sure why the corners of your lips keep trying to twitch upwards every time she makes some stupid face.

You're not sure why you're fine sitting in the freezing cold of the parking lot. Not even on the motorcycle, but on the cold ass ground, just sitting behind the motor, back leaned against it.

You're just fine sitting here, and you're just fine knowing that after this, you'll have to go back home and deal with a bunch of bullshit again.

You don't get it.

What changed?

She used to get on your nerves, and you used to get on hers.

She's still the same, isn't she?

And you're still the same.

Everything, suddenly, feels... different.

The air feels different, the atmosphere feels different, the whole world feels different.

The only thing that hasn't changed is her.

Well, no, that’s a lie.

She has changed.

She feels different.

She's not the same girl you can't stand.

And you're not the same girl she can't stand.

Everything is just different.

Maybe the two of you had changed.

But you're not sure how.

You're not even sure when you started noticing it.

But those little details about her, those little behaviors and quirks and habits that you used to find irritating and annoying… they're not bothering you anymore.

She's still a pain in the ass, but she's... well, a tolerable one.

For now.

You don't understand.

Or, rather, you won't allow yourself, at least not yet.

Because you're not sure how to process everything.

And, honestly, you're afraid to even try.

You look at her, still eating on the slice of pizza, and there's a small smear of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “You've got something on your face.”

She tilts her head. “I do? Where?”

Your eyes slowly move down, from her eyes to her nose, and then... her lips. Then, you notice something... freckles. She has freckles. little ones, spread across the bridge of her nose and cheeks, and they're… really cute, really, really-

What in ever loving hell are you thinking?

“Hello? you alive over there?”

You snap out of it. You're not about to let her see you be weak just because she happens to have a pretty face. “You had something right… here,” before she can respond, you raise your hand, reaching for her cheek. You wipe the sauce off the corner of her mouth with your thumb. Your thumb accidentally brushes against her lower lip, and something in your chest twitches. 

Vi freezes, her eyes widening as you touch her lips.

Everything feels... slower.

You can hear the sound of her breathing as she exhales, how it hitches when you brush your thumb along her lower lip.

You don't know how, or when, but you find yourself leaning closer to her, your hand still cupped on her cheek.

Her gaze flicks to your lips, her own parting slightly.

...

Holy shit.

You snatch your hand away, realizing what you just did.

Damn it, what the fuck?

You quickly stand up, trying to regain your composure. “I-” Your voice comes out as a croak. You clear your throat, trying to sound normal. “I should... get home. I think it's getting late.”

Vi is still sitting on the ground, and then she shakes her head, as if waking herself up. “...right. Yeah, it is getting late.” She slowly stands up.

“I... umm…” you start awkwardly. “I should-”

“I'll... drive you home,” she interrupts whatever you were about to say. 

Your head snaps up, surprised by the offer. “What? You don't have to-”

“I want to.” Her tone leaves no room for argument, so you shut your mouth. You don't want to prolong this weird, confusing moment anyway.

—

Vi's motorcycle comes to a stop in front of your house. The engine making that clunky, sputtering sound before it finally dies.

“We're here,” you say, trying to break the awkward silence that has been between the two of you since you got on the motorcycle.

You manage to finally slide off the motorcycle, but unfortunately, you're still attached to the helmet. You attempt to unbuckle the chin strap, but the damn thing seems to be glued to your head.

“Ugh, this piece of crap,” you mutter, struggling with it.

“Here, let me-” she cuts in, reaching for the straps.

“No, I got it,” you insist.

“I know you can, but let me.” 

You glare at her, feeling stubborn, but it's not like you're getting anywhere. “Fine.” You let your hands fall to your sides as she reaches for the straps.

She unbuckles it with ease, finally freeing your head from its confines.

You take the helmet off and give it to her, trying to not make eye contact. “Thanks.”

There's a moment of what could be an awkward silence before you both speak at the same time.

“So-”

“I-”

You cough awkwardly. “Go ahead.”

“No, you can speak first-”

“No, no, I insist. Go ahead-”

“I'm fine-”

“Stop being stubborn-”

“Says you-”

“Yeah, I am stubborn-"

“Shut up-”

“Make me-”

What did she say? Was that... an invitation?

“Are you challenging me-”

She snorts. “Pfft, no, that-”

“Then why would you say something like that?”

“I don't know, thought it'd be funny.”

“It wasn't.”

“It was a little funny.”

“No, it wasn't,” you scoff. “Whatever. You were saying?”

“Oh, yeah,” she replies, shifting on the motorcycle. “I just wanted to say…” Her gaze shifts from you to the side, then back to you. “I just wanted to... say that I had... fun today. Yeah…” She shrugs. “What about you? what were you sayin'?”

Huh. “I guess it wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Wow,” she says, deadpan. “So glad you're not completely miserable being around me.”

“Don't get your hopes up too high, it's just for today, remember?” you remind her.

“Yeah, I remember, I'm not an idiot.”

“Could have fooled me,” you retort, and a smirk makes its way to your face.

“Watch it,” she warns, the corners of her mouth curving upwards. “I'm only tolerating you today.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you quip back.

The two of you share a look and then start laughing. You're glad she's starting to loosen up a little.

“Alright alright, truce?” She holds out her fist.

You roll your eyes but bump your fist with hers anyway. “Truce.” 

There's another silence, but it doesn't feel... awkward like the last ones.

Then, she speaks up, “Well... I guess I should go.”

“Yeah,” you reply. “I guess you should.”

“See you at school, then?”

“Unfortunately,” you grumble. You take a step back, getting ready to turn around and head to the front door.

“Hey,” she suddenly says.

You glance back at her, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Can I…” she starts, then hesitates, “...can I ask you something?”

You shrug. “Yeah, go ahead.”

“Just... promise me you won't be mad,” she hedges, not quite looking at you directly.

“I'm not promising anything-”

“Just... humor me.”

“Fine. I promise I won't get mad.”

She takes a deep breath. “Do... do you… do you actually hate me?” You're silent for a moment, trying to find the words, but she starts backpedaling. “Ugh, never mind, I shouldn't have asked, forget it, it doesn't matter-”

“No, no-" you interject, “I don't- I don't hate you.”

“You don't?”

“No... I don't hate you.”

“You sure?” she presses, leaning forward on the motorcycle, resting her arms on the handlebars. “Then why are you always so pissy whenever you're around me?”

“I dont-” you start, then stop. “I'm not-” you start again and stop again. “Remember that time in science lab?”

“When we lit the bunsen burner, the table caught on fire, we got three detentions, and everyone thought we were going to be expelled?” she recalls.

“Yes… that time.”

“Seriously? that was months ago.”

“I never said I was the most forgiving person.”

“It was a mistake,” she points out. “I didn't mean to do it, I was just being stupid.”

“It was still your fault. You didn't look at the instructions.”

“I was distracted,” she counters.

“By what, your big brain? cause you definitely weren't paying attention to the experiment instructions.”

She looks away, shifting uncomfortably on her motorcycle. “Actually, I was distracted by something…” her eyes return to yours, “-someone.”

“You're making it sound like it was a person you were crushing on or something.”

She falls silent, looking away again.

Wait.

Hold on.

What?

“Wait—wait a minute,” you demand, walking closer to her.

“What?”

“You were being distracted because you were crushing on someone during the science lab? That was the reason that whole thing happened? You couldn't keep yourself from being distracted because you were crushing on someone?”

“That's not fair to say,” she protests.

“Not fair to say?” you repeat, scoffing. “I literally got three detentions because you were more interested in staring at someone-”

“Fine! Whatever. Maybe I was distracted, maybe I wasn't paying attention-” she admits defensively “-maybe I was looking at-” she cuts herself off again. “Whatever, I'm going home.” She starts her motorcycle, not glancing at you.

“Hey-” you reach out, grabbing her arm. “Wait.”

“What do you want?”

“What was that person's name?”

“What does it matter?”

“Cause, I have a hunch.”

“Care to share this hunch with me?”

“Uh, Caitlyn Kiramman…?”

She snaps her head to you, eyes tracing up and down. “Are you actually this clueless?” she sneers, then drives away, leaving you alone on the sidewalk.

“Hey!” you shout. “Seriously, what is your problem?” you call out after her. “We were having a decent conversation, why did you-”

Suddenly, she stops, braking abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk with a quick skid. Before you can say, or think, she has her motorcycle facing you once again. She swings her leg over and hops off, walking up to you with a determined look.

“You want to know my problem?” she asks, coming closer. “I'll tell you my problem.” She grabs your shoulders, forcing you to step back. “My problem is that it's been years. Years, and you still have no idea, do you? you're still just as clueless as always.”

“What are you-” you stumble, struggling to keep your footing. Her hands are tight around your shoulders, holding you in place.

“You keep saying I'm the one who causes trouble, I'm the one who always makes your life harder-” she continues. “But you-”

You manage to find your footing and look at her face.

“-don't seem to get that you're just as guilty of making my life miserable.”

“Vi-” you start, but she doesn't let you finish.

“Every time you smile at me, every time you look at me, every time you talk to me.” She shakes you. “Every time you do something stupid, which is all the goddamn time,” she spits. “You don't seem to get that it drives me insane.” She huffs, letting go of you. “I've been right in front of you this whole damn time, and you just didn't even-”

“Didn't what?”

“You had no idea, did you? You don't understand why I’m so damn irritable whenever I'm with you, you don't get why I'm always trying to pick fights, why I can't just be civil, why I can't just be normal around you… you just think I'm a jerk!”

“Well, maybe you are. You did just grab me like a fucking maniac.”

“Oh, shut up,” Vi snaps. “Just shut up for a second.”

You shut up.

She takes a deep breath. “You think I enjoy this?” she asks, and the question sounds genuine enough that you regret the ‘maybe you are’ comment.

She scoffs. “I don't. I wish more than anything that I could just be calm and civil and… and nice around you. But instead, I'm always getting into your face, I'm always picking at you, I'm always trying to piss you off, because it's the only goddamn way I can get your attention.”

“Any time I try to be normal around you,” she continues, “I get... I get ignored. You act like I'm not even there. But the second I get in your face, the second I do something stupid or obnoxious-” she gestures at herself, “-suddenly, you're right there. You're looking right at me, you're talking to me, for once, you're actually paying attention to me-”

“Why do you even care about my attention?!” You don't mean for it to come out as angry as it does, but the pure confusion you feel causes you to raise your voice.

Vi looks away, a frown twisting her lips, before she snaps her gaze back to you. She sounds oddly embarrassed when she speaks. “Maybe because I'm completely, miserably, head over heels in love with you, okay?!”

Wait... what the actual fuck?

Vi looks away, the words leaving her in a rush. “I'm in love with you,” she repeats, quieter and slower. “There's no maybe about it. I've literally been in love with you since middle school.”

“So, instead... instead of just telling me,” you start, “you... you decided to be a jerk to me for the past six years?!”

“I was twelve!” Now her attention is fully on you as she gestures at herself. “I was a dumb kid, I didn't know what to do, but I was desperate for you to notice me. Every time I tried being nice, I got ignored, so... I guess I decided that if you weren't going to notice me in a good way, then I was just gonna piss you off and make you notice me in a bad way.”

“And then, I just kept doing it,” she continues, “because then, you would notice me, and you'd talk to me, and at least you weren't ignoring me. It became a habit. It was the same damn cycle every day. So, you know, I'm sorry if I don't suddenly know how to behave like a normal goddamn human being around you.”

She looks at you defiantly, she's expecting a fight, an argument, and the last thing she expects is for you to... laugh

You laugh. You don't laugh because you think it's funny, you laugh because you're so unbelievably shocked and overwhelmed that the only thing you can do is laugh. You try to cover it up, you try to muffle your laugh by bringing your hand to your mouth, but it's too late, you've already laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” she asks. “I'm being serious, okay? this isn't a joke, it's not some sort of prank. I am dead serious—I just confessed to you, and you start laughing? Jesus, you're actually heartless, you-”

You manage to get your laughter under control, your body still shaking with a few silent chuckles, but you manage to speak in between your breaths. “You have the worst-” and another chuckle, “-worst timing, I swear to god.”

“Oh I'm so sorry that my confession didn't please all of your fucking needs,” Vi says sarcastically, “but I've spent god knows how long in love with you, and I just had to take my shot. And what are you doing? You're laughing at me. Because your pride can't stand-”

“Would you shut up for like two seconds?!” you snap, cutting off her rant in an instant. “I'm not laughing because you confessed to me, okay?!”

“Then why are you laughing, huh? why is this so funny to you? because I don't find it very funny-”

“Because-” you sigh, and you're actually surprised by how... nervous you suddenly feel. “I never expected this, okay? I never expected you to actually... feel that type of way about me, and to top that, you're confessing to me in the stupidest way possible.”

“I didn't plan on confessing to you at all!” she protests. “It just... kind of happened. Plus, you've never been too keen on me.”

“I-” you begin because 'not keen on you' feels like an understatement. You've never liked her, or rather you've never let yourself even consider her as an option because your heart was set on one person only. “I just need some time to... process this.”

Vi scoffs, her face looking annoyed again. “You need time to process this? what's there to process? I just told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, well, I need to process that! Because you just dumped a lot of information on me, and right now I'm-” You pause, trying to pick just the right word. “...overwhelmed, okay?”

Vi's features soften, not quite fully, but just enough to show a little bit of sympathy. “Overwhelmed,” she repeats.

“Yeah…” you reply, “I mean... you just confessed to me, and I... I've never-” you gulp. “-I've never really thought of you... that way.”

“Never thought of me, or never let yourself think of me?”

Okay, woah, that's... a very accurate question.

She's right, and it's scary that she just pointed that out.

Maybe in the back of your head, you've wondered things, you've had thoughts, but it was all so brief, you've always been quick to brush them away. It never even crossed your mind that maybe you had been missing out on something.

You're not sure how to reply, and it gives Vi a chance to continue talking.

“You never let yourself think of me like that, huh?” she continues, “That's pretty sad, because I've literally been in love with you for the past six years.”

“Don't guilt trip me,” you snap. “It's not like I asked you to fall in love with me, is it?”

“I'm not guilt tripping you. I'm just trying to get you to understand how I feel. I'm just trying to make you see that I...care about you, okay? I'm not trying to—ugh!” She groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “I'm screwing this up, I'm screwing everything up, because apparently I suck at confessing and you… you mess with my head.”

“I mess with your head?” you repeat. “You're the one who's messing with my head! You're the one who's messing with my emotions, you—you just turned my entire life upside down, and you expect me to respond to it perfectly?!”

“Not perfectly!” she retorts. “You're seriously not getting it, are you? All I want is for you to-”

“What do you want then? you want me to say that I feel the same way about you? that I've secretly been in love with you for years and never said anything?”

“No, that's not what I— that's not what I want you to say at all!” She runs her fingers through her hair and pushes it out of her face because the haircut she has gets everywhere. “All I want you to say is that you'll even consider me as an option! I just want you to give me a chance. Is that so much for me to ask for?”

You groan to yourself. “Look, if you like me that much, then maybe you should at least make an effort… and then maybe... I'll give you a chance!” With that, you walk towards the front door.

Vi doesn't respond, not immediately, she just stands there watching you leave, a stunned look on her face. But she manages to shake herself out of that stupor in time to follow you.

“Are you serious...?"

“You want me? You gotta work for it,” you respond without slowing your footsteps.

“Woah woah woah, what? work for it?” she sputters, trying to keep up with you. “What more do you want from me?”

“I want-” You stop in front of the door, suddenly turning around to her. “-I want you to prove how serious you are. Just confessing to me isn't going to change everything, and if you're being serious,” you jab a finger to her chest, “then prove it.”

“And how exactly am I supposed to prove myself, huh? Please, tell me, because I'm really at a loss here.”

“I don't know, figure it out.” You shrug. “You claim to be in love with me, right? and if that really were the case, then you have six whole years worth of feelings inside that-” you point at her “-that heart of yours, and you better damn use it.”

“Fine,” she says, and her tone is determined. “You want me to prove it? I'll prove it. I'll prove it so much, you're going to be drowning in how much I prove it. I'm going to do everything just to win your heart. Just watch.”

That sounds cheesy, but... you'd be lying if you said you weren't intrigued. You scoff, turning around and opening the door, but not before saying, “We'll see about that.”

—

Vi stares at the closed door, her thoughts completely occupied with your words.

Prove it.

She shakes her head, a grin on her face as she walks back to her motor.

You and her have had a rocky past, but she's determined to wipe the slate clean.

Vi swings her leg over her motor. She grips the handles tightly and starts the ignition.

She's going to start from the ground zero with you.

And by god, she will prove herself.

[thebestsetter]

"Men used to go to war, now they..."

Isagi Yoichi

...follow you around like a lost puppy.

Need to cook something? Yoichi can help! (Not really, since he doesn't know batshit about cooking and burns everything he touches, but it's the thought that counts, right?) Are you going out? No problem! He's gonna sit put and still on the edge of your shared bed, watching with a fond look as you rummage through your wardrobe trying to find the perfect clothes to go out! (Even though he thinks all of them look perfect on you) Need help shopping? He's already holding all of your bags for you! (Even if he looks ridiculous holding so many bags, but he refuses to let you touch a single one of them). In the end, he's just a lovesick boy who loves acts of service and some good old quality time, so just let him follow you around, yeah?

Chigiri Hyoma

...gossip and do skincare with you.

He literally hates the girls you talk about without even meeting them in real life. Like, what do you mean that Penelope lady cheated on her husband because he was on a 20 days trip? Ridiculous.

Anyways, skincares are a must in your relationship. You guys do it everynight, and, when he's away (for soccer reasons), you facetime to do it. It became a little tradition: he calls you the night before an important game, askijg if you already treated your skin. Then, when you say that you didn't, his eyes visibly, clearly - and a little comically too - light up (even though he already knew the answer. It's the same one everytime. You never do it without him). After that, you both just talk and laugh, trying to calm his nerves down before the game. Most of the times, the call only ends when one of you end up falling asleep. It's honestly cute how comfortable you are with eachother.

He swears he plays better when you do that. His many hat tricks can confirm that.

Nagi seishiro

...can't sleep if it isn't on your lap.

He physically can't anymore, and it makes him pissed.

His sweet pillows that looked oh so comfortable before must as well feel like rocks right now, because NOTHING compares to the fluffiness of your lap mixed with you petting his head. He feels like he's in heaven everytime you do it. He HATES when he's travelling and has to sleep on a 5 star hotel's bed, because how is it SO uncomfortable?? What the heck??

And you can BET the first thing he does when he comes home after his soccef trips is sleep. For a long time. Like, "hibernating" kind of long. One time, you seriously thought he was dead. But it was just the effect your lap has on him. Deal with it.

Reo Mikage

... spend an unholy amount of money.

This isn't even surprising. I mean, it's Reo we're talking about: the boy who has more money than what to do with it. And his financial situation obviously reflects on your relationship.

Looked at that hair product for 0.2 seconds more than the last product you saw? He already bought it! Want ice cream? He'll have 4 scoops, please!

The thing is that he was taught money=love (especially by his parents, who tried to make up for their absence by giving him money), so that's what he thought would swoop you off your feet. But it wasn't. It was the tender moments, the gentle kisses on your knuckles, and the goals dedicated to you. So don't think he only gives you money - he gives you PLENTY of quality time too!

Perhaps a part 2 will be written

[mayrose713]

Beautifully Cruel World-Chapter 21

Series Masterlist | Previous | Next

ABO Non-Idol Stray Kids Universe Poly OT8 x Reader 18+ MDNI

Warnings in the Series Masterlist as well as any other information needed

Chapter 21

Chan, Minho, Hyunjin, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin all sit on the patio of the beach house, drinking some lemonade as they wait for their other three mates to get home knowing they shouldn’t be too much longer. They plan on going to a nice restaurant for dinner as it’s their last night on the island. Chan having made the reservations when Felix and Jisung first brought up the trip. Then afterwards, Hyunjin requested to have a big sleepover in the living room.

“I’m telling you, he was cheating.” Felix hits his hand on the table of the patio furniture.

“You always say that, Lix.” Seungmin laughs as the omega talks about what happened when he was playing Genshin Impact that morning.

“He had to be.” He whines. “There’s no way he had…”

Hyunjin turns to him confused as to why he stopped talking when he notices Felix looks scared. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Channie?” The omega whimpers, having felt a wave of fear come through his bond with Y/n.

“Yeah, I feel it too.” Already on his phone before holding it to his ear and waits a few moments before groaning. “She’s not answering.”

“What’s going on?” Jeongin asks, looking at them concerned.

“A strong feeling of fear just came though Y/n’s bond with us.” Minho growls now holding his phone to his ear. “Jisungs not answering.”

“Damn it! Neither is Changbin.” Chan sighs before standing up. “Come on Min, they’re just down the street at the garden. We’ll track their phones for their exact location when we get there. I’ll take the truck, you take the car.” 

“We’re coming too.” Hyunjin stands up quickly starting to follow and the other three do too. 

“Guys, we don’t know what's going on right now.” Minho tries to reason with them once they’re all back in the house, putting on shoes and grabbing keys. 

“If Y/n is so scared you’re feeling it through your bonds with her, then somethings seriously wrong.” Jeongin argues.

“We’re coming.” Seungmin stands in front of the door so the alphas can’t leave without them.

“Please.” Felix whispers with puppy dog eyes. 

“God, you pups are so stubborn.” Chan groans when they all feel a rush of anger from Changbin’s bond and they realize it might be worse than anticipated. “Fine, you can come but you are going to listen to me.” He points at Felix, Hyunjin and Seungmin as they start walking out of the house towards the vehicles. “You three are to stay out of the way. Depending on what's going on I’m gonna need you to calm Y/n down and possibly even Jisung. Don’t try and do anything until we get them to you.” 

Felix and Hyunjin get into the truck with Chan as Jeongin and Seungmin get in the car with Minho. They drive quickly to the nearby park and garden that isn’t even a five minute drive from the house. Seungmin already had the locations of their phones brought up on his once they all parked and got out. 

“They're by the pavilions.”

They jog that way and just as the gazebos are in view they see their mates when an older alpha slaps Y/n before trying to grab her again causing her to back away in fear then trip and fall. 

“Y/n.” The betas and Felix yell and gasp.

“Motherfucker.” Minho growls before running with Jeongin and Chan right behind him, sirens are now heard in the background. 

“Don’t touch her.” Chan yells when the older beta woman tries to touch Y/n who is still trying to get away, scrambling backwards in the grass. 

Changbin has the older male alpha by the collar of his shirt as he threatens him. Chan rushing to his aid as Minho goes to Y/n and Jeongin goes to Jisung. 

“Jisungie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just shaken up.” The beta nods, not looking at Jeongin but around them at Chan and Changbin yelling at the man, and Minho crouching in front of Y/n on the ground.

“Go to the others, we’ll bring Y/n over to you guys in a moment.” Jeongin guides him in the direction of the other three who are standing by watching, nervous. 

Jeongin looks around the area, noticing a lot of people have gathered, watching, one of them must have been who called the cops as he can hear the sirens has reached the parking lot and can see the flashing red and blue lights in the distance. He then goes over to Minho and Y/n, glaring at the woman who stands by even after Minho told her to go away. 

“Y/n, I need you to try and follow my breathing baby, look at me.” Minho tries talking to their omega but she’s freaking out too much, looking everywhere but at him as tears stream down her cheeks, her hands clenched so tightly in fists that her nails break the skins of her palms as the youngest alpha comes up to them. “She’s having an anxiety attack, there's too much going on around her for her to focus on me and calm down. She’s not even reacting to my pheromones.” 

“Jagiya, it’s Innie. I need you to look at us.” He tries also releasing calming pheromones hoping both of theirs would help her better but she’s acting as if they aren’t even there. “Her anxiety pills are at the house aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but even if we did have them I don’t think she’d be able to take them right now. Let’s get her to the betas and away from this.” Minho decides and moves to scoop her into his arms which causes her to flinch away and freak out, moving so much in his arm. “It’s okay kitten, it’s just me.”

He tucks her face into his neck which causes her to stop trying to get out of his arms but instead cling to him as he walks her to the rest of the pack. 

“Hey, you can’t just take my granddaughter.” The woman yells. 

“Shut up.” Jeongin yells at her before going over to Chan and Changbin who are still having a heated conversation with the older alpha but Changbin is no longer clutching his shirt.

“Oh, my sunshine.” Felix holds his arms out moving away from Jisung who he was holding before.

Minho gives Y/n to Felix who whimpers once she’s in her fellow omega’s embrace. Hyunjin now holding a tearful Jisung as the alpha moves to them once the omegas are settled on the grass with Seungmin watching over them.

“You okay baby?” He places his hand in the betas hair as he leans against Hyunjins chest. 

“I am now that she’s away from them.” Jisung wipes his tears as he looks at Y/n. “I seriously thought they were gonna take her from us.” 

“We would never let that happen.” Hyunjin mumbles before kissing the younger's head as he holds him closer to his chest. 

The cops come up to the three alphas still arguing, another cop going to the crowd of witnesses and the last one to the six of them. The last cop gives them a sad look seeing the two who are still shaken up. 

“I’m sorry but I’m gonna need to ask the beta and omega who were a part of the situation some questions.” 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Everything went by in a blur for Y/n. The cops questioned Jisung, Changbin, her grandfather and grandmother and some witnesses who were willing to testify. They then asked the rest of the pack separately about what happened that led them to come here and what happened after they all got to the park. They tried to question Y/n a few times but she was so out of it she didn’t hear them or even really notice them there. All she was aware of was her pack around her as she was constantly passed to someone when another had to answer questions. 

She’s now sitting in the back of an ambulance in Hyunjins lap with Felix and Seungmin on either side of them as a paramedic looks at her wrist, hands and cheek. It’s when the paramedic cleans the wounds on her hands from her breaking the skin with her nails that she finally comes back to reality at the pain letting out a hiss

“It’s okay.” Hyunjin says, something they’ve all been saying to her since they arrived. 

“She didn’t do too much damage when she was clenching her fists, just a few cuts.” The paramedic says as she cleans everything up. “Her wrist and cheek are already bruising though. Warning, the cops may want to take pictures of that for the record. But you guys are welcome to sit here until they say you guys are free to go.”

“Thank you.” Seungmin tells her.

The omega looks around at the scene outside of the ambulance, it’s late afternoon now when it was just after two when her date started with Changbin and Jisung. She sees cops still talking and taking notes with several people, her four alphas and Jisung being a part of that. She then looks next to her to see Felix who’s bouncing his leg. 

She reaches over to him and grabs his hand making him whip his head to look at her before he squeezes her hand. “Hey baby, you with us now?” 

She nods her head, the first time she’s answered anyone since her grandfather hit her, all of them letting out a sigh of relief. 

“I’ll go tell the alphas she’s coherent again.” Seungmin stands up and jogs over to where they’re all still talking to some of the officers. 

“You’re safe, princess.” Hyunjin holds her closer to him, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Are you okay, do you need anything?” 

She nods before looking over at Felix again and motions her hand that he isn’t holding, to her mouth as if she was drinking something. 

“You need something to drink?” When she nods again he grabs a water bottle next to him the paramedic gave them and opens it before handing it to her. “Here, you cried a lot, need to rehydrate.” 

She takes the bottle with shaky hands and takes a few sips but then she starts to feel nauseous and hands it back to him. 

“Channie hyungs coming over with one of the officers.” Hyunjin tells her. “She’s gonna want to ask you some questions. Can you do that for us?” The beta frowns when she shrugs. “Can you say anything for us?” 

She shakes her head no just as Chan walks up, the officer just behind him, looking relieved to see her answering Hyunjin. 

“Hey, baby girl.” He places his hands on her thighs and rubs soothing circles with his thumbs. “This is officer Park, she has some questions for you, we’ll be right here the whole time.” 

“She’s not talking.” Felix tells them as the rest of the pack comes over. 

“That’s okay, she’s probably still in shock.” Office Park gets closer causing the omega to push herself back against Hyunjins chest more. “Based on what you guys have told us and what some witnesses say, we know that her grandfather grabbed and attacked her first and that Mr. Seo was just trying to protect his mate. But we do have to ask if you are wanting to press charges or file a restraining order against your grandparents?” 

They all look at her before she looks up at Chan unsure. 

“Will she have to see them again if she presses charges?” Felix grabs her still shaking hand already knowing what’s going on in her head. 

“Unfortunately yes she will have to see them in court.” Y/n quickly shakes her head no to pressing charges. “What about a restraining order?” 

She nods her head and so does everyone else. 

“Alright, Mr. Bang I’ll send you everything you’ll need for the restraining order so you can file it when you guys get back to Seoul tomorrow.” 

“Thank you so much officer.” 

“I will need to take some pictures of her bruised cheek and wrist for the report though.” 

Y/n tries to back herself against Hyunjins chest again, not wanting the cop any closer to her. 

“Here, let me take them.” Minho steps up and officer Park hands him the camera for evidence as Chan takes her hand gently to hold up for the pictures. 

Chan then moves her face gently so the pictures can be taken of her cheek before Minho hands the camera back to the cop. “Alright, you guys are good to go.” 

As soon as the cop walks away Y/n looks at Changbin and raises her arms up to him, tears brimming her eyes once again. 

“Come here, pretty girl.” Changbin picks her up from Hyunjin’s lap and holds her close to his chest, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

“Let’s go.” Chan declares. 

______________________________________________________________

Taglist is closed for a bit as I am unable to tag anymore right now

Tag list: @pixie0627 @sinfulfic @estella-novella @mbioooo0000 @ms-flowergirl @blindspot143 @ihrtlix @arishoriasims @fic-for-readers @motheraiya55 @hwangrfrnd @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @juskz @borahae-reads @dreamerwasfound @galaxy4489 @kayleefriedchicken @lostgirlinthewoodss @catkight @royal-shinigami @notevenheretbh1 @passionandsuga @m00njinnie @sukss @n1nme4r @blueberrydish @xxeiraxx @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @aalexyuuuhm @kaleigh-2002 @btskzfav @hyunmikim @ot8girlfie @sillygoosegoose @tr0p1cal @eastjonowhere @hime-honne @furfoxsake22 @luvlino23 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @im-sinking-in-mud @fiest4plum @forevermoremagcon @comicnerd557 @nchhuhi @alyxcatspost @danceonmyheyday @maisyyyyyy @shycreationdreamland @chanshugsaretherapy 

@violet-hatake @idkwhoisthis1971 @mo0n13 @yumuramma @nuggiesnuggetdog04

@pineapplekitty3-16 @straykidslover2024 @athens-09 @strayk1ds143 @riri53

[milla-frenchy]

Shameless

3k1 | Lucien de Leon x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: you ask Lucien to come over and he does exactly what you need him to Warnings: 18+ mdni. Oral (f/m), size kink, cigarettes, rimming, ass play, piv, creampie, pet names (baby, baby girl), reader has no specific physical descriptions but wears a dress

a/n:  Thank you for the inspo @gothcsz 🙏❤️ (tumblr free Kat FFS§§§) Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing and for everything, ily so, so much 🥹💕 @/saradika-graphics for the dividers 🙏

“Come on baby, don't play like this now,” he said, full of self-confidence, leaning against the wall in front of your door in his stupid shirt. The mountain of shit he had been dragging behind him for years had never damage his self-esteem.

“I don’t know why I keep calling you,” you said, bitter and unfair towards him. “Every time I regret it. Before or after I fuck you.”

“Mmmm… So you regret it now? You want me to leave? Ok,” he added, turning around, before you could even answer.

“Fuck, wait, Lucien!”

He didn't hide his smile as he turned around. 

“See, baby? That's your problem, you always push people away. You're scared to be loved. And that's why you always call me.”

“Yeah, right. And you’re perfect for that, because love’s not your thing.”

He leaned against the wall again, a soft smile on his lips.

 “You think that? But who's gonna love you like I do, baby?”

“And how do you love me?”

“My way,” he said, coming closer to you, a cigarette resting behind his ear. This motherfucker was the hottest man you knew. The biggest red flag you’d ever met.

“You always say you wanna be good but you keep begging me to come over,” he said, moving closer to you, his face only a few inches away from yours. Damn, you just wanted to kiss him. To fuck him.

“Because no one can touch you like me, that deep,” he added, brushing your lips with his before pulling away.

“I’m not just talking about here,” he said, pointing at  your heart with his finger. “But also here,” he added, grabbing your pussy. “You need me. No one can fuck you like me. That deep, right?”

You swallowed loudly. Fuck, you needed him, deep and rough. He probably saw it in your eyes, but instead of leaning in and kissing you, he grabbed his cigarette and lit it. He smiled as he let the smoke out.

“Come on baby, don't give me that ‘piss off’ look. I’m gonna give you what you want,” he said, pressing his hard cock against the fabric of his black pants and pushing himself against you. He turned the cigarette over to offer it to you, and you took a drag.

“Yeah, whatever,” you said.

“Had some good dicks in the last few weeks?”

“Fucked a few. Can’t say they were that good, though.”

“Awww,” he said dramatically, before adding, “you fucked them raw? Do I have to use a condom, baby?”

“No. You’re the only dick that I fuck raw.”

He chuckled and threw his cigarette on the ground. You rolled your eyes and in two seconds he was fully against you, crushing his lips against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks.

He was never aggressive or possessive, always beautifully sensual and free. No strings attached, and that's exactly what you needed. Someone who wouldn't ask you something you couldn't or wouldn't want to give.

Each time he’d kiss you, each time you’d fuck, you never knew if it was the last time. Didn't know if you'd end up getting bored with him like with everyone else. 

You doubted he would, on the other hand. He was always patient, never seemed to take your mood swings badly. He never said ’no’ to you, even if he knew you just needed to use him, somehow. Even if you were sometimes hard on him. 

He was probably right: he loved you in his own, unconventional way, and that twisted relationship was oddly the most stable part of your life.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked as he kissed your neck, your eyes already rolling to the back of your head just at the feeling of his soft mustache brushing your skin, then his rougher beard that he loved to rub against the soft skin of your neck. Just like he loved to graze it against your inner thighs each time he ate you out.

He straightened up to look at you then licked your lips with the tip of his tongue, your mind suddenly blank.

“Need it bad, huh,” he chuckled. It wasn’t a question. Yeah, you needed it bad, but still, you shrugged.

“Come on baby, let me in,” he said against your lips, his familiar tobacco breath invading your nostrils a little more. “And I'm not talking about your cunt, she’s already droolin’, right?”

You didn’t answer and just pulled away from him to lead the way inside your house, to the dining room. You could feel his eyes fixed on your ass. You didn't even have to sway your hips to know he'd follow you anywhere at that moment.

He pushed the front door behind him, quickening his pace to be right behind you and caress the roundness of your ass before seizing your hips to make you stop.

“Mmmm, baby… I never get enough of this body,” he murmured in your ear, his hard cock against you. You wanted to say something clever, or at least something with your usual “whatever” attitude, but his touch was overwhelming you.

He slid his hands up to your breasts and cupped them sensually, his nose against your hair, he breathed it in as he said, “damn you’re so hot,” almost to himself. 

He squeezed your breasts slightly, perfectly, then pulled down your neckline, freeing your nipples swollen by desire. His hand slithered down your spine to your ass and then he grabbed his bulge.

“Shit, I’m so fucking hard,” he said, his voice not as playful as usual. “Turn around baby,” he added. You did as he asked, trying to get your composure back as you looked up at him.

He cupped your tits again and took a nipple in his mouth. He sucked and licked it, making you whine “shit” softly, as you ran your fingers in his hair and pressed his face against your skin. He chuckled, so sure of himself, that he was even hotter than a second before, and sucked your other nipple. He coated it with his saliva then peppered your chest with kisses, up towards your neck and finally your lips, his tongue quickly pushed through yours, while he grabbed the hem of your short dress then pulled it over your head. He was in a rush and your head was dizzy.

His hands were rubbing your body as if he didn't know what to touch or where to stop, but he finally covered your pussy with his full hand, his fingers brushing the wet garment.

“Mmm yeah…” he said, and you didn’t take your eyes off him as he unbuttoned his shirt then freed his hard cock from his pants. The most gorgeous cock you'd ever seen, with a fat tip and a large vein that you loved to roll under your tongue.

“Come on, baby. I’ve been thinking about fucking your mouth since you called me,” he said, slowly jacking his thick cock with his fist, his stare full of lust. 

He was insanely beautiful and hot as hell, with his shirt open over his broad chest, two chains resting at the bottom of his neck. 

“Yeah? Well I’ve been thinking about cumming in yours since I called you,” you replied.

“Damn, you’re gonna kill me one day, you know that?” he smiled. 

“Mmm… clothes off, red flag guy,” you told him, then sat on the couch, feet firmly planted on the ground, legs spread. Shameless. 

Panties still on, you knew he loved to remove them himself. 

“And light me a cigarette, big boy, will you?”

You were in charge again. He was letting you be. 

A silent game between the two of you with rules that never needed to be stated.

He took his pack out of his shirt pocket and lit a cigarette then handed it to you, letting the smoke escape from him towards you. Then he undressed, slowly and sensually.

You watched him getting naked in front of you, dragging on your cigarette from time to time, arm resting along the backrest. He always made you feel safe, free, powerful.

He remained standing for a few moments, looking at you like you were the most beautiful woman in the world. His hard cock pointed towards the ceiling, slowly jacking off again after spitting into his palm. Even though the precum was flowing from his reddened slit.

He knelt down and placed his hands on your knees before moving up the inside of your thighs, the soft rub making you shiver. When he grabbed the hem of your panties, you lifted your hips to help him to pull them down slowly, revealing your glistening pussy and the butt plug you had inserted just before he arrived.

“Shit, baby…” his husky voice and eyes full of desire made you drool a little more. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“Fuck… Take a drag, baby,” he asked, unable to take his eyes off your two holes. He spread your thighs wider by pushing on them with his shoulders. You exhaled the blue smoke slowly, looking down at him, kneeling between your thighs. So broad, so strong, but still at your knees, leaving you in full control of your femininity. It made him even more beautiful, even more attractive, even more sensual. He grabbed one of your thighs and kissed the sensitive skin, then placed it on his shoulder.

“Fuck you're so hot. A true free spirit, aren't you?”

He didn't let you answer and leaned down, running his nose up your folds. He growled as he licked them with the tip of his tongue, then moved away slightly to look at your cunt and ass.

He seized the plug and pulled on it slightly, until the widest part reached your ring, making you moan.

“Shit,” he said, unable to say more as he watched your muscle tighten every time the metal spread it apart.

“You always let them go down on you?” he asked, moving the plug deliciously back and forth, before sticking his tongue into your wet cunt. You let your head fall back against the back of the couch. He had always been a really good fuck, but he always ate you out divinely well, leaving you breathless as soon as he dived in.

“Mmm?” he insisted.

“Shit… you’re the jealous type now?” you pantered.

“No. It turns me on to think about it,” he answered, grabbing one of your breasts with his hands.

“Damn, Lucien you're twisted…” you whimpered. “Not always… shit… I… not all men are good at it,” you stammered. 

He chuckled, so sure of himself, pushing a finger into your cunt already stuffed by his tongue. It was like he was all over your body, boobs, pussy and ass, and it was intoxicating.

“I think you forgot about your cig, baby,” he said, teasing. He wasn't one of those men. Of course he wasn't. He was so good at this. 

You crushed the cigarette in the ashtray by the armrest. He was so good that sometimes he would make you come in less time than it took you to finish your cig. Then he’d grab it from your trembling fingers to take a drag while you were still trying to catch your breath. 

His hand left your tit to press your hip against the sofa and he pushed his tongue into your drooling hole. 

“Gonna come for me? Yeah, you're gonna come for me. Soak my face, baby girl.”

You used him to get off, rubbing yourself against his nose, hands tight on his head, thighs spread as wide as possible, giving him full access to your core. You were so aroused that some of your wetness was leaking down to the plug, making it even easier for him to fuck you with it.

“Lucien,” you whined. His hand tightened on your flesh, letting you use him like you needed until you came in his mouth.

He pushed two fingers in your cunt and looked the way your body was squeezing his thick digits pumping your cunt and the plug, until it finally stopped. 

He pushed the metal all the way in then stood up and brushed your cheek as you looked up at him and straightened up, his cock inches from your lips. He held it tightly and you licked his shaft from his fingers to his tip, unable to tease him more. He growled when you took him in your mouth, focusing on the tip at first then deeper and deeper, getting your throat used to his width, and your saliva started to flow down his shaft to his fingers. Your hand caressed his balls full of cum.

“Fuck yeah, just like that,” he murmured.

You pushed his hand from his shaft and jerked him off slowly, licking his balls that you could never resist for long. He whimpered when you took one of them in your mouth, the thin skin rolling between your lips. 

“You're so easy, Lucien,” you chuckled. It was your turn to make him fall apart, and you loved it.

“Shit, yeah, I'm easy with this damn mouth,” he agreed. “That’s it baby. Keep licking them.”

You pulled them up then tasted the skin behind them, gaze looking up at him but his eyes were closed, his hands resting on your head.

“You don’t want a cigarette, Lucien?” you bantered, then licked him again from his scrotum to his ass that you teased with the tip of your tongue.

“Fuck… I can barely breathe, no I can’t smoke right now, you little minx,” he whimpered as you took a ball in your mouth. You finally released it with a needy moan. Your core was already filled with warmth again and begging for release. 

“Shit, you need it deep, right? Wanna ride it?” he asked as he held your elbow to get you up.

“No, want you to fuck me.”

“Come here then, baby. All fours. Lemme see that ass.”

You settled and he knelt behind you, rubbing his cock against your soaked folds, before grabbing the plug and pulling on it slightly, making your ring contract instinctively as it was stretching you.

He chuckled, then mocked gently, “that’s cute. As if he doesn’t want to get fucked.” He nestled his fat tip at your sloppy pussy then pushed in, and you stopped breathing for a minute under the feeling of his cock splitting you in two.

“How do you need me, baby? Need me to fix you up for a while, until next time?”

You moaned, feeling him push in your two holes.

“Tell me,” he insisted, filling you with his whole length and brushing against your cervix.

“Yeah, fuck…. Yeah, I need you to fix me.”

“Damn, baby,” he said, pulling out to eat your pussy from behind, and he removed the plug to press his nose against your ass before coming up to lick it.

“Oh god,” you whined, eyes rolling in the back of your head and fists squeezing the sofa cushions. He spat on your ass and watched the saliva run down and slide inside before licking at it, pressing his tongue against it then pushing in. Your ass opened up to let him reach inside and you couldn’t hold back a loud moan as he was lapping at your hole.

He spanked you and focused his tongue on your most private place before grabbing your ass with his two hands. You wanted to beg him to stuff you until he’d fill you with his seed. 

“Lucien, please… Fuck me.”

He straightened up and pressed his tip against your cunt, pushing in slowly to let you feel all of him sliding in.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined.

Leaning on your forearms, you didn't move, letting him thrust into you, filling you so slowly that you could feel the vein of his cock brushing your insides.

“Oh, god, that’s good Lucien, fuck…”

“Yeah? Always takin’ me so good, baby…”

He started to fuck you, his thumb pressed against your ass, growls and moans escaping from his lips. He was watching you contract on his digit as he was filling your two holes. 

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Harder, please,” you whined.

You knew he would do it for you, in the way you needed, even though you knew he would want to take his time, to get you used to him. But he had quickly understood why you called him. Because he would answer your needs, because you were safe with him. Because his cock was so big it was perfect for what you were looking for, to forget everything else. He knew you were scared to be loved, or to love, and didn't want that kind of relationship. That this way of fucking was what you needed. For now anyway, and maybe forever. He always smiled when you called him a red flag, unaware of that game he was still playing for you. He could find it funny, how wrapped he was around your finger, although you didn't even know it. Or maybe you just didn't want to see it.

He was rolling into you, faster than he wanted. Harder than he wanted. Because if it was the only way he could have you, he would never say no. Because he knew you wouldn’t fall for him, and it was probably for the best.

“Fuck, baby… your little cunt is squeezing me so hard… You know I can never say no to you, right?” he asked, sliding his hand down to your clit, eager to make you come. His entire length was pushing in and out, fucking your insides like no one else could. Not as deep, not as wide.

“Make me come, Lucien, please,” you whimpered.

His balls squeezed him painfully, waiting to give you what you wanted. When you came, tightening on his cock so fucking hard, it was enough for him to spit his cum deep into your core while he panted even louder than you, mouth crushed against your shoulder, nibling at it, his weight pushing on your back. You leaned forward and felt his length leave your cunt and his cum flowed when you lay down on the couch, under him. Already feeling so desperately empty.

He leaned towards you and kissed you. He knew you didn't want more, and wouldn't allow more. Didn't want some bullshit proximity.

He sat on the couch, putting your calves on his lap, while you stayed lying there. He lit up a cigarette for you, then another one for him. You smoked them silently until he got up and put his clothes on.

“Till next time?” he asked.

“Till next time,” you replied.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

@iamasaddie @itwasntimethatdidit40 @iknowisoundcrazy @thundermartini @sawymredfox

@yxtkiwiyxt @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @baronessvonglitter @casa-boiardi @joelmillerisapunk

@tateypots @schnarfer @itsafullmoon @magpiepills @604to647

@ace-turned-confused @ghoulettesinspace @toxicanonymity

[rafescherie]

rafe cameron getting himself off …

warningsᝰ.ᐟ MDNI 18+. male masturbation, mentions of drug-use, & mentions of sexual desires with unspecified relationships

cherie’s note — this was written with season one rafe in mind because i would absolutely gobble him down if i could (i’m lowkey a pervert)

he gets turned on so easily — this boy gets absolutely no play, no attention from women & is lowk a porn freak. wearing a low cut shirt around him? boner. in a bathing suit? boner. touchy with him? boner. talk to him in the softest most innocent voice you can and he’s gonna cum in his shorts on the fucking spot, like i don’t know what to tell you.

i think he lowk be jorking it more than a few times a week — his favourite thing to do after a stress filled day is angrily fist his slick cock within his warm palm, works wonders to get the edge off for him, especially after dealing with the stress of his father. can we take a moment to imagine just how much he’s panting afterwards? like omg… poor boy can’t even catch his own breath, greasy bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead while his thick cock continued to twitch in his palm.

i feel like he’s lowkey a whimperer? like obviously because everyone else still lives in the house at this time, but imagining the little whimpers and grunts that fall from his lips every time he’s touching himself oh my god.

help this is so raunchy but i can imagine him with his polo shirt caught between his teeth as he stares at himself in the mirror, the way he’s so damn focused on getting himself off only further helping to reach him to his climax. it’s kind of egotistical but i can just feel it that he gets off watching himself stroke his shit in the mirror wow.(me next)

absolutely will be jerking off to your pictures. no doubt about it, every picture of you in a bikini, or tight forming shirt, posted on your instagram will have him screenshotting and putting it in his ‘hidden’ folder in case you go through his phone one day. finds he can make himself cum so much faster while looking at you, at the same time imagining it was your tits he was spurting on.

i can sooo see topper buying rafe a pocket pussy as a joke for their secret santa gifts or some stupid shit. rafe obviously finds it funny but won’t fucking use it, it was a gag joke and just boys being boys. until he does use it, slicking his cock with his own spit and fucking himself into the toy over and over again, totally imagining it was sweet little pogue/kook he had a thing for, wishing it was your tight warm cunt he could just fill with his sperm instead of that stupid silicone pussy.

also, first thing he’s doing after sniffing a line is pumping his cock between his palms, cocaine gets you so stupidly horny that he can’t contain himself when he’s all alone.

so manipulatable !!!!!! so fucking brain dead when he’s horny, like his pretty head has just turned to complete mush while he desperately pumps his cock for some sort of relief from the tension.

last one i swear. i can totally see him grunting and whimpering, and talking to himself while he does it. dirty talking with half open heavy lidded eyes, hand working against himself while he’s mutter shit like, ‘just like that’ and ‘feels so fuckin good’ and he’s whiningggg. HELLO?? he’s so obviously thinking about you too, letting your pretty name slip past his lips, praising how good of a job you’re doing even though you aren’t there, like this guy is sooo fucking pussy whipped for you and you haven’t even let him hit. he’s so obsessed.

[gpcwsl]

Lia Wälti x Reader

Falling for you, again and again

WC: 477

MasterList

Warnings: kissing, short?

Y’all are gonna get a few Valentine’s Day fictions today.

The day had been long. Training, meetings, more training—it had been nonstop from the moment you both woke up. You and Lia barely had time to exchange a proper “Happy Valentine’s Day” before the demands of football stole her away. But you understood; it was part of the life you shared. Still, as you finally step through the door of your home, exhaustion weighing on your limbs, you can’t help but wish you’d had more time together.

Lia must feel the same way because the moment you set your bag down, she’s there, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind, her chin resting against your shoulder.

“I missed you today,” she murmurs, her voice warm against your skin.

You turn in her embrace, your hands finding their familiar place against her hips. “Me too.”

A soft smile plays on her lips before she steals a quick, teasing kiss. “Wait here.”

She disappears into the next room, and when she returns, her hands are full—flowers, chocolates, and a few small, carefully wrapped gifts. Your heart melts instantly.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, touched by the effort she put in.

Lia shrugs, but her expression is fond as she presses the flowers into your hands. “I wanted to. I know we didn’t have time today, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to celebrate with you.”

You set the flowers down on the counter, taking the chocolates and the gifts before pulling her in again, pressing your forehead against hers. “I love you.”

Her lips meet yours in response—soft, slow, unhurried. The kind of kiss that says she missed you, too. The kind that lingers, that deepens without meaning to, until you’re both smiling against each other’s mouths.

The night unfolds in the softest of ways. Wrapped up in each other on the couch, a movie playing in the background, though neither of you is paying much attention. Lia’s fingers trace lazy patterns along your arm, her other hand laced with yours, resting against her chest.

Every so often, her eyes drift from the screen to you, and before you know it, she’s leaning in again, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then your lips. Each one softer, sweeter than the last.

The movie is long forgotten now. She’s all you can focus on—the way her fingers gently cradle your face, the way she sighs against your lips, the way her heart beats steadily beneath your palm.

When you finally pull away, just enough to look at her, her gaze is warm, filled with something that makes your chest tighten.

“I think I fall more in love with you every day,” she admits, voice barely above a whisper.

You smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face before kissing her again, slow and deep.

“Me too.”

[babybearnation]

Alpha driver!male reader (i headcannon that you get ur first rut/heat at like 13ish till then you smell like milk) who while being an alpha most of his life (reader is around 27) has only had one rut and that was his first one, charles(omega) lando(omega) and oscar(alpha) are concerned when reader goes into a rut and he literally can't think in a staight line (like eyes blank and no thoughts, Except him moving his hips into a pillow) and is in alot of pain when not touching atleast two of them, they take reader to a doctor they give him something while there so he's atleast coherent for an hour which leads to him explaining to the doc that this is in fact his second ever rut he's had in his life, after the doc get the info he tell lestappiatri that they need to help him if they want him to survive since most similar cases don't make it even with two partners, it ends up with them having an entire 2 weeks where 2 of them are fucking helping reader and the other is taking a break or getting them all food whenis slightly more coherent and able to eat (though those times don't last long before reader's begging to fuck or be fucked)

🥺🥺🥺

–🍑

apologies in advance, i have a feeling this is gonna be bad

omega!charles leclerc x omega!lando norris x male!alpha!reader x alpha!oscar piastri

cw: suggestive

you'd presented as an alpha at the normal age but, unlike normal, that very first rut was the only you'd had for about ten years

you were dating two lovely omegas as well as a wonderful alpha, but because of how new your relationship was, it took a while for your three boyfriends to realise that you didn't have ruts

until you fall into your second rut ever and your boyfriends rapidly learn the truth

luckily, it was very shortly after all the drivers were given free time for the off-season so you weren't being a potential inconvenience

charles, oscar & lando aren't sure what to do, watching you rut blank-eyed and mindless into a pillow over and over in a way that make oscar's unswelled knot twitch in pain

you always hissed when left with one or none of them in the room with you, so they took turns leaving to get things for you

after speaking to and arranging for a doctor to come over, charles tries to offer his body to you but you couldn't move to do anything about it and ultimately, charles backed off

the doctor comes over and gives you something to clear your rut for a small period of time

he asks you questions and charles, lando & oscar are horrified to discover that this was only your second rut

in an almost nightmarish situation, the doctor told you that you would need all three of your boyfriends help to have even a chance of avoiding falling really sick once your rut faded

the doctor prescribes you a rut-supporting medication before leaving, clearly aware that the momentary rut-supressing meds are about to wear off in only a handful of minutes

charles, lando & oscar aren't sure what's going to happen to you now but they take the remaining minutes of you being aware to get you to drink some water and eat a few slices of toast, concern evident in their voices and gazes

once the meds had fully worn off, however, you were insatiable all over again, falling back against the sheets and touching yourself over and over until lando nudged your hand away and sunk down on your cock himself, providing you that sweet, sweet relief you needed

charles leaned forward and kissed you, guiding your fingers to his slick hole, hoping it would help as well

oscar decides to play with your chest, wanting to be involved but not entirely sure what else he could do to bring you pleasure

neither of them were sure how long this would go on for but they were willing to get through it all with you because they loved you and couldn't understand how horrifying a situation like this must be to experience

and get through it they did because, before long, your rut finally passed and you were a coherent, yet very apologetic, alpha once more

your three boyfriends were instantly comforting you, promising that it was okay and hopefully, with the new medication, you'd fall into a steady rut rhythm

and you did! the medication timed your rut with lando's heat, that way you never went into it during the f1 on season

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[celestialgallaghers]

Morning Rain [18+]

Hiiiii I just wanted to post a quick lil something for valentines day. btw Double Dare Ya part 2 is in the works but I had to get this one out of my brain first. 

--------------------------------------------------------

Summary: Basically just Noel & some early morning smut. And a bit of fluff bc vday. I hope you enjoy 💌

Word count: 2.4k

--------------------------------------------------------

The first thing you registered upon waking was the soft patter of rain against the windowsill. The second was the gentle press of lips trailing lazy kisses along the nape of your neck. A slow, contented sigh escaped you as you shifted, stretching out before curling back into the warmth behind you, a drowsy smile playing on your lips.

Noel was always extra affectionate in the morning, and you never tired of it. This was your favorite version of him—soft, unguarded, untouched by the weight of the world that so often settled into a scowl on his face. The knowledge that no one else got to see him like this, that he reserved this tenderness for you alone, made you adore him even more.

He draped an arm over your waist, pulling you flush against him. Another kiss landed just behind your ear, followed by a sleepy murmur. "Mornin’."

"Mm, morning," you replied through a yawn, turning just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, his expression softened by the haze of early morning. You leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before rolling back into your previous position, burrowing into his warmth.

The air was still cool, but he was so warm that you found yourself chasing that heat, nuzzling closer. He always smelled so good, no matter how many nights he spent sweating under stage lights or in dingy pubs. This morning, he smelled of sleep and warmth, with the faintest trace of his usual cologne. There was no way to describe it really, it was just Noel. The sheets always carried his scent, but you preferred going straight to the source.

His fingers, rough from years of playing guitar, traced slow, lazy circles against your stomach, a soothing rhythm that left you teetering between wakefulness and sleep. You reached for his hand, bringing it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his skin, the cool metal of his rings contrasting with the warmth of your mouth.

Noel sighed contentedly, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. His hand slipped from yours, drifting lower, his thumb skimming the curve of your hip before dipping to trace idle patterns along your bare skin. The cold drag of metal made you tense slightly, and he let out a quiet chuckle, adjusting his touch.

“‘M sorry, forgot to take ‘em off last night,” he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

"S’okay," you sighed, lulled by the slow, gentle strokes of his fingers.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you felt yourself sinking back into the pull of sleep.

"You’re gonna fall back asleep, aren’t you?" he murmured, amusement laced in his voice as your breathing slowed.

"M’not," you mumbled, though your eyelids were already fluttering shut. "You’re just so cozy."

He shifted closer, hooking a leg over yours, effectively trapping you against him. More pleasant warmth enveloped you, the weight of him grounding you until you quickly realized that he was half-hard against your hip.

You let out a sleepy laugh. "Well, I’m definitely not goin’ back to sleep now."

Noel hummed, his lips brushing against your skin. "Oh, you’ve only just noticed that now, have you?" His hips rolled against you lazily, and a shiver ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Heat bloomed low in your stomach, spreading between your thighs as the slow friction built. His hand slipped beneath your shirt, his touch featherlight as he traced warm patterns along your torso. The heat of him was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but push back against him, drawing a low groan from his throat.

His fingers skimmed higher, teasing over the swell of your breast, and your breath hitched. You were definitely awake now.

He brushed a thumb over your nipple, the rough pad of it sending a jolt of pleasure through you. You inhaled sharply, your body instinctively pressing into his touch.

"Let me take care of you," he mumbled against your skin. 

A hum of approval slipped from your lips, warmth pooling in your chest as his thumb circled your nipple again, this time with more intent. His mouth trailed along your jaw, placing lingering kisses down to the sensitive spot below your ear.

He already knew every inch of your body, every spot that made you shiver, every touch that set you alight. And he used that knowledge mercilessly.

His breath grew heavier, warm against your neck as his hand kneaded at your breast, fingers rolling over your peaked nipples. When he nipped at your earlobe, a quiet gasp escaped you

"You make the sexiest noises, d’you know that?" he whispered, his lips trailing lower, teeth grazing lightly over your skin.

"Do I?" you managed, voice breathy.

“Mm,” he hummed. “Love the way you sound.”

The heat between your thighs grew insistent, the ache impossible to ignore as his hand drifted lower, teasing at the waistband of your underwear. His fingers barely ghosted over the sensitive skin, yet it was enough to send goosebumps rippling across your body.

He unwound his leg from yours, shifting slightly as his fingers trailed down your thigh, making you twitch.

"Impatient, are we?" he teased, parting your legs slightly as his fingers ghosted over your inner thigh.

"Wouldn’t be if you weren’t such a bloody tease," you muttered, frustration creeping into your voice.

He inched his hand higher, making you shiver again. “Can’t help it,” he grinned against your shoulder.

You huffed, knowing you’d never win this battle.

Then, without warning, he knocked your legs further apart and cupped you with a firm, warm hand, drawing a sharp inhale from you.

Your hips rolled against his palm, seeking more, and he let out a satisfied groan. His lips found your neck once more, soft kisses pressing into your skin as his fingers traced slow, torturous strokes over the damp fabric between your thighs.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he murmured, voice thick with desire.

“Can’t help it,” you echoed back breathlessly. 

His fingers moved with practiced ease, teasing along your slit, the drag of the damp cotton heightening every sensation. A soft moan slipped from your lips as he pressed his thumb against you, circling gently, then rougher, drawing another needy sound from you.

"Want me to take these off?" he whispered, fingers hooking into the waistband, his breath uneven against your skin.

"Please," you breathed, voice dripping with need.

He obliged, slipping them down your legs and discarding them. The cool air kissed your skin for only a moment before his hand returned, fingers gliding through your wetness.

"Better?" His breath ghosted over your neck, but you could practically hear the smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Noel," you whined, impatience bubbling inside you.

But he didn’t move. 

Frustrated, you grabbed his wrist, guiding his hand lower, your fingers fumbling against his rings. The cold metal was stark in comparison to the heat between your thighs.

"I’ll take ‘em off," he murmured, beginning to slide his hand away.

"No, leave them," you said quickly, gripping his wrist a little tighter. A flush of heat crept up your neck at your own desperation.

He chuckled, low and knowing. "Oh, you like them, do you?"

You bit your lip but nodded, dragging his hand back up to press the coolness against your clit. The contrast sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through you, a gasp spilling from your lips as your hips jerked.

Noel let out a shaky breath. "Fuck…"

And then, he finally gave you what you wanted.

His hand dropped lower, your breathing hitching as he pushed a finger inside you, his touch slow and deliberate as he teased you. 

A moan slipped from your lips, then another as he added a second finger, working you open with expert hands. His rings grazed against you with every movement, the sensation a heady mix of warmth and cool metal. A shiver rippled down your spine as he curled his fingers just right, sending a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you.

Your body jolted, arching against him as his fingers gave a particularly sharp curve . Your nails dug into the sheets, hips rolling, chasing the friction, the pressure. Pleasure was building too fast to contain.

"That’s it," he breathed, pressing a kiss just below your jaw before nipping at the sensitive skin. His fingers quickened, plunging deep, stretching you with an ease that made your stomach tighten. His rings, now warmed by your body, still left a delicious contrast against your slick heat.

Then he bit down on the soft skin below your jaw, and a sharp whimper escaped you.

Your body reacted instinctively, pressing back into him, seeking more as his fingers found that perfect spot inside you, the one that sent sparks shooting through your veins.

His pace quickened, unrelenting, hitting that spot with maddening precision until you felt yourself unraveling, your body tightening around him. Your moans spilled freely now, raw and desperate, the pleasure climbing higher with each motion.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you silently thanked whatever deity had gifted him with his guitar skills. The years of practice kept his fingers from cramping too quickly. You were willing to bet he could keep this up for hours without tiring.

The thought sent another shiver through you. Maybe someday. But right now, you were too far gone to wait

He shifted closer, grinding against your ass, the heat of him unmistakable as you felt his own need twitching against you. It was enough to make you dizzy with pleasure. 

"Noel," you gasped, your voice barely coherent. "So good… please."

The coil in your stomach tightened, every nerve set alight. The pleasure was deep and consuming, like fire licking through your veins. Your breath came in broken sobs, body trembling under the sheer intensity of it. Your head tilted back against his chest, needy gasps spilling from your lips, skin flushed with warmth.

He ground against you harder, his breath catching, and you heard a soft whine slip from his lips. The sound sent a fresh jolt of arousal through you, tightening the knot in your stomach. You were so close it was almost painful, teetering right on the edge.

“Noel, please—fuck, need you,” you babbled, desperate and breathless.

And somehow, he understood.

"I've got you," he murmured, his voice low and sure.

His thumb found your clit, barely brushing against it, but that was all it took. The contact sent you spiraling over the edge

Your body tensed, then shattered, pleasure crashing over you in powerful, rolling waves that stole the breath from your lungs. A strangled moan tore from your lips as he worked you through it, fingers unrelenting as your body shook against him.

Even as the initial peak faded, he didn’t stop. No, he kept moving, his fingers curling, dragging out every last aftershock until you were trembling, overstimulated and lost in the haze of pleasure. It was overwhelming and intoxicating all at once. For a fleeting moment, you thought you might come again, the sensation so intense it blurred the edges of thought.

Then, finally, he eased his fingers from you, giving you a chance to catch your breath. Slowly, your muscles uncoiled, the tension ebbing into a satisfied ache. You felt boneless, completely undone. Even shifting onto your back sent pleasant aftershocks rippling through you, your muscles still twitching with the remnants of your release.

Then Noel was pulling you toward him again.

His touch lingered, teasing as he just barely pressed his ring against your clit. You jolted, oversensitive, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. 

He exhaled sharply, watching you with dark, heavy-lidded eyes, drinking in every twitch and shiver. Then, with deliberate slowness, he lifted his fingers to his mouth and cleaned you off them, making a show of swirling his tongue around the rings.

"I’ll never be able to look at these the same way again," he said, smirk tugging at his lips.

You barely registered what he said, breath still uneven as you turned, pressing your face into his chest, listening as his erratic heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm. His hand moved gently over your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns, soothing in the aftermath. He played with your hair absentmindedly, letting you recover from your intense orgasm.

Lifting your head, you met his gaze, still dark with unmistakable lust, but now laced with something softer. A slow smile spread across his face as he reached to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His touch lingered, fingers trailing down to cup your cheek, thumb skimming over your bottom lip.

"Love you so much," you whispered, pressing a kiss to his thumb, voice thick with adoration.

His expression shifted, something deeper flickering behind his eyes. His fingers traced along your jaw, tilting your chin up so you were looking right at him.

"Love you too," he murmured, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "More than you know."

You shifted, capturing his lips properly in a slow kiss, pouring every ounce of emotion into it. His tongue slid against yours, and the taste of yourself on his lips sent another thrill through you.

Smiling against his mouth, you slid a leg between his, where he was still achingly hard.

He’s been so good to you, so patient. The thought sent a fresh wave of affection coursing through you. Pressing one last kiss to his bottom lip, you pulled back, a slow smirk spreading across your face.

“Need help with that?” you teased.

He exhaled a short laugh, eyes dark and wanton. “Yeah, I could use a hand… or two.”

Your fingers trailed down his chest, skimming over the firm planes of his stomach before halting just above his waistband.

"Well, since you were so kind…" you mused, letting the words hang in the air before slowly flipping him over, pressing him into the mattress with a grin.

His breath hitched, his gaze locking onto yours. It was your turn now.

And you were going to devour him whole.

[alittlegiraffe]

Title: Can’t Get Enough

Warning: this story is dark and has a lot of unhealthy things in it. See part 1 for full warnings.

The morning light barely crept through the curtains when you felt Marshall shift behind you. His arm, heavy and warm, tightened around your waist, pulling you back against his chest.

You let out a sleepy hum, stretching slightly, but the second you tried to move away, he groaned.

“No,” he mumbled into your neck.

You smiled lazily. “No?”

“Not done with you yet,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Ain’t gonna be done with you for a long fucking time.”

You exhaled, turning in his arms to face him. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, but the moment yours met his, that same hunger from last night flickered back to life.

“I gotta get up,” you whispered, but even as you said it, your fingers trailed up his bare chest, unable to help yourself.

He shook his head. “No, you don’t.”

“Marshall—”

“I already took care of it,” he cut you off, voice rough but smug. “Kids are at your parents’. Told ‘em we needed the day.”

Your breath hitched. “You—”

“Sent ‘em off before they even woke up,” he admitted, smirking slightly. “You think I was gonna spend the first day back fighting for your attention?”

Your heart stuttered in your chest.

Before you could respond, he flipped you onto your back, his body hovering over yours, lips brushing against your ear.

“Today, you’re mine.”

You swallowed hard. “Marshall—”

“I mean it,” he murmured, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip. “Not letting you out of my sight. Out of this bed.”

A shiver ran through you, your body already melting into him. “You’re insatiable.”

“You have no idea.”

The next few hours were a blur of tangled sheets, whispered confessions, and the kind of closeness that made time feel irrelevant. Every time you thought you could get up—to grab water, to shower, to breathe—he was right there, pulling you back in, dragging you under again.

By midday, you lay spent against his chest, legs tangled with his, his fingers lazily tracing circles on your bare back.

“You okay?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You nodded, exhaling slowly. “You really missed me, huh?”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “Missed you like oxygen.”

You smiled against his skin. “Guess I can’t be mad about that.”

“Good,” he murmured, tightening his grip. “Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

And true to his word, he didn’t.

---

The sun was high in the sky by the time you stirred again, your body sore in the best way, completely entangled with Marshall’s. His arm was still heavy across your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You tried—really tried—to move, just to stretch your legs, but the second you shifted, his grip tightened like a vice.

"Where the hell you think you're going?" His voice was thick with sleep, low and raspy.

You huffed a laugh, fingers grazing through his short hair. "To pee? Maybe eat something? You have to let me get up at some point."

His arm tightened even more. "No, I don’t."

You rolled your eyes, attempting to pry yourself from his grasp, but it was useless.

"Marshall," you sighed.

"Baby," he mocked, lips curving against your skin before pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your shoulder.

You shivered, fighting against the way your body reacted to him, to his touch, to the way he had barely stopped touching you since he walked through the front door last night.

"You’re ridiculous," you murmured, though your body betrayed you, already melting back into him.

"You love it," he countered, moving just enough to prop himself up on one elbow so he could look at you. His eyes were still heavy with exhaustion, but there was something else there, something dark and insatiable, something that told you he still hadn’t had enough of you.

And the worst part?

Neither had you.

You reached up, fingertips ghosting along his jaw, the stubble there rough beneath your touch. "You’re never this clingy."

His gaze softened just slightly. "Guess I just forgot what it felt like to be without you," he admitted, pressing a kiss to your wrist. "And now that I got you back, I don’t wanna let you go."

Your chest tightened, breath catching in your throat. You should’ve expected that answer, should’ve known exactly where his head was, but it still knocked the air from your lungs.

"You’re not gonna lose me," you whispered.

"I almost did," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "And it fucked me up more than I knew."

Your fingers curled around the back of his neck, pulling him down until your lips brushed his. "Then stop thinking about it," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, and in an instant, his lips crashed against yours, swallowing you whole, like he was trying to drown in you instead of the thoughts in his head.

And just like that, you were lost to him all over again.

---

By the time the sun started setting, you finally managed to slip out of bed, leaving Marshall in a tangled mess of sheets and limbs. He had been reluctant to let you go, even in sleep, his arm draped over your stomach, holding you close like you’d disappear if he loosened his grip.

You had barely taken two steps toward the bathroom before his groggy voice stopped you.

"Where the hell you goin’?"

You turned, smiling softly at the sight of him—bare-chested, hair a mess, eyes still heavy with sleep, but watching you. Always watching you.

"Just to pee," you teased. "Or do you need to supervise that too?"

He huffed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Hurry up."

You laughed, shaking your head as you disappeared into the bathroom. And sure enough, the second you returned, he was already reaching for you, pulling you right back into bed like you had never left.

"Marsh," you sighed, letting him nuzzle into your neck. "We have to eat at some point."

"Not yet," he mumbled against your skin.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers tracing idle patterns along his arm. "You’re really not letting go anytime soon, are you?"

His grip tightened. "Not if I don’t have to."

Your heart clenched, because this wasn’t just about the physical need—wasn’t just about the want. This was something deeper, something raw.

You tilted his chin up so he had no choice but to look at you. His eyes were a storm of emotions—love, fear, desperation.

"You don’t have to," you whispered.

His throat bobbed, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingers splayed over your bare skin, like he needed proof you were still here.

"Good," he murmured, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

And just like that, you knew—you weren’t leaving this bed for the rest of the night.

Not that you ever wanted to.

---

It was supposed to be a normal phone call—just a quick check-in with your parents to see how the kids were doing. But when your mom casually mentioned they could keep them for the whole weekend, you barely had a chance to agree before Marshall’s hands were on you, gripping your waist, his breath hot against your neck.

You had barely hung up before he spun you around, his blue eyes dark, voice low and rough.

“Whole weekend?”

You nodded, suddenly breathless under his stare.

His tongue ran over his bottom lip. “Just you and me?”

Another nod.

A slow, predatory smirk stretched across his lips. “You have no idea what you just agreed to.”

—

It started the second you set your phone down.

Marshall didn’t just claim you. He consumed you.

Every time you tried to get up, to do anything, he was right there—pulling you back, pressing you against the nearest surface, making sure you remembered exactly who you belonged to.

The first time you tried to get dressed, he ripped your shirt right back off, tossing it across the room.

“The fuck you need clothes for?”

“Marshall—”

“No. You don’t need ‘em.”

And you gave up.

At some point, you just stopped trying. You stayed in his shirt—only his shirt—because it was the only thing he seemed willing to let you wear. Even then, he still found excuses to push it up, to slip his hands underneath, to remind himself that every inch of you was his.

By the time evening rolled around, you were spent, sprawled across the couch, trying to catch your breath. But even then, he wasn’t done.

He hovered over you, hands gripping your thighs, eyes dark and serious.

“Say it.”

You swallowed hard. “Say what?”

“You know what.”

Your stomach flipped. He had been like this all day—obsessive, possessive, making you prove over and over that you were his.

“Yours,” you whispered.

His grip tightened. “Louder.”

“Yours, Marshall.”

A low growl rumbled from his chest. “Damn right you are.”

And then he was on you again, like he still couldn’t get enough.

Like he never would.

---

By the time night rolled around, you were exhausted—not just physically, but emotionally. Marshall had spent the entire day following you, touching you, claiming you. Every time you moved, he was right there. Every time you tried to do something—cook, clean, even just get dressed—he shut it down, pulling you back into his arms like letting go wasn’t an option.

And honestly? You didn’t want him to let go.

Now, you were curled up against his chest in bed, his arms wrapped so tightly around you it was like he was afraid you’d disappear if he loosened his grip. His lips brushed over your forehead, down your temple, across your cheek—soft, lingering touches that sent shivers down your spine.

“You still with me?” he murmured, voice rough in the quiet room.

You nodded, tracing your fingers along his ribs. “Still with you.”

His arms tightened, his breath shaky as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Good. ‘Cause I ain’t letting you go.”

Your heart clenched. You knew this was more than just need—it was fear. The kind of fear that settled deep in his bones, the kind that whispered what-if’s in the back of his mind, reminding him of everything he’d lost before.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, cupping his face. “You hear me?”

His eyes burned into yours, something raw and vulnerable flickering beneath the possessiveness.

“Say it again,” he breathed.

You swallowed hard, letting your fingers trace his jaw, your lips brushing his.

“I’m not going anywhere, Marshall.”

His breath shuddered out of him as he crushed you against his chest, like he was still trying to convince himself you were real.

And you let him.

Because if this was what he needed—if you were what he needed—you would give it to him.

Again and again.

For as long as he’d have you.

---

The room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of Marshall’s breathing. He was still holding you like he hadn’t quite convinced himself you were real—his arms a little too tight, his grip a little too desperate.

You shifted slightly, but his arms only tightened.

“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion.

You exhaled softly, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m just getting comfortable.”

“Comfortable is right here.”

You smiled against his skin, but you could hear it—the unspoken plea, the weight of everything he hadn’t said out loud.

He had always been like this—closed off, guarded. But when he did open up, when he did let himself feel, it hit him all at once, like a tidal wave he didn’t know how to stop.

And right now, that wave was crashing.

Your fingers traced lazy circles on his back, soothing, grounding. “You wanna talk about it?”

He was quiet for a moment, then:

“I keep thinking—” His voice caught, and he swallowed hard before trying again. “I keep thinking about what it would’ve been like if I lost you.”

You sucked in a breath, your chest tightening.

“Marsh…”

“I know, I know. You’re here. You’re mine.” His grip flexed on your waist, like he needed to feel that truth. “But I don’t think I ever let myself really feel how close I was to fucking everything up.”

You didn’t say anything, just let your fingers thread through his short hair, let your touch tell him what words couldn’t.

He sighed, pressing his forehead to yours. “I don’t wanna go back to that place. Ever.”

“You won’t,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his. “I won’t let you.”

His breath stuttered, and for a moment, he just looked at you, like he was memorizing every inch of your face, every detail of this moment.

Then, softly, like a promise:

“I love you.”

You smiled, heart swelling, and whispered back the only thing that mattered.

“I love you too.”

And just like that, he finally—finally—let himself breathe.

[nottswitch]

⋆˙⟡♡ VENUS IN VIRGO

venus in virgo is reserved in expressing their feelings, yet they meticulously focus on things you like and strive to please through small acts. this placement tends to use sex as a release for everyday stress and tension, though they rarely express any fantasies they might have in bed.

sub!draco malfoy x reader

warnings: 18+ mdni, orgasm denial, begging, edging, mommy kink, masturbation (m receiving), praise

nav // event / more

draco was completely delirious. who would’ve thought that this was exactly what he needed after a stressful work week at his new position in the ministry? you were very proud of him – he finally managed to confess one of his biggest fantasies, even though you were suspicious that he’d had it for a while now.

the two of you were on the bed, tangled in cool satin sheets. you were sat up, leaning your back against the headboard, with draco���s upper body in your lap. your hand was moving steadily on his hard, weeping cock, your grip tight and firm; the other hand was in his hair, gently scratching his head and running through the platinum locks, normally neat but now an adorable, sweaty mess. draco’s mouth was on your nipple, lapping and sucking as he whined softly, his hips lifting up in shallow thrusts into your hand from time to time.

"i– i’m close, mommy."

you smiled and slowed down your movements, making him whimper and try to push himself more into your touch. you shook your head in disapproval and moved your hand from his cock to his hip, pressing it down to the bed.

"aren’t you my good boy, baby?" you tugged at his hair, lifting his head up for his gaze to meet yours. he nodded weakly, his glassy eyes searching your face for any signs of mercy. your expression was soft but unyielding – you didn’t plan on stopping any time soon, especially knowing that he was enjoying this as much as you were, maybe even more.

"your good boy," draco mumbled, his lips jutted out in a small pout. "but i wanna cum, mommy… it’s been so long…"

"i know you do, darling." your hand slipped back to his cock, caressing but giving nothing more for now, making it twitch under your palm. "but you’re gonna have to wait, okay? you can take some more, for mommy?"

draco let out a shaky breath and nodded again, biting his already swollen bottom lip to stop himself from whining – although you knew he would anyway. you placed a kiss on his forehead as your hand wrapped around his cock, starting to move up and down in slow strokes. draco’s hips thrusted up once more, no matter how hard he tried to prevent it and keep himself controlled.

"please, please, mommy, let me cum," he slurred out, hazy and blissed out from the pleasure he’d been in for the last hour, his peak close yet denied over and over again. precum started dripping even more intensely from his slit, your fingers deftly spreading it all over his length.

"shh, baby, it’s alright," you murmured, continuing to scratch his head, which only heightened the sensations he was drowning in, making him shiver. "you’re doing so good, love. just a little bit more, yeah? be mommy’s good boy, and i might let you cum soon."

[sirsoggybread]

Stranger|Spencer Reid

Spencer Reid x Winchester! Reader Summary: A Criminal Minds x Supernatural crossover in which Spencer finds the Reader drowning their sorrows at the bar. (Potentially the first part of a series.) Warnings: Drinking, typical mentions of violence, spoilers for s7/s8 of supernatural, gn! reader, no use of y/n, reader doesn't like whiskey? idk i've never done this before WC: 1.4k a/n: I'm gonna be so honest, I actually don't know what this is. This is my first time actually posting a fic, I'm trying my best, so please judge lightly. If your interested in reading more, I may be interested in writing more. don't quote me on any facts btw, i stole them almost verbatim from wikipedia.

You swirled your drink around in your glass. You had been sipping on it slowly, because it was hard to force the bitter taste down. You never liked whiskey, you weren't sure why you ordered it, except you were, because it was Dean's favorite drink.

Chasing a lead that led you to another dead end is what brought you to this annoyingly loud, and overly warm bar. Missing him, and replaying those last few memories over and over again in your mind is what led you here. One moment he was there, jamming the stake into Dick Roman's heart, one moment you guys were successful, and the strenuous fight against the leviathans was finally over. The next moment? Dean was gone. 

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket, it was Kevin, again. You let out a soft sigh as you declined it, again. You felt a little guilty, but you did not have the energy to talk to him. Or the heart to tell him that the lead he was so proud of digging up led to nothing. 

You were tired. For the past six months you had been telling yourself that he was alive. He had to be. There was no body, and if there was no body then he was not dead. He was Dean, you're invincible older brother who loved you so dearly and of course he wasn't dead.

But you were starting to doubt yourself. Even if he was alive, crawling around Purgatory somewhere, how would you get to him? How could you save him like he had saved you so many times before? 

You were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts by the soft spoken, almost meek words of the man standing next to you, waiting on his drink.

"You... alright?" 

Slowly, you turned your head, and you met his gaze. His hazel eyes held a soft expression, filled with concern for you- someone he had never even met before. He nervously tucked a lock of his messy brown curls behind his ear before continuing, "you... seem a little down." 

Your expression softened ever-so-slightly at his gentle demeanor. Still, you weren't exactly in the mood for therapy with a stranger. Besides, it wasn't like you could actually confide in anyone about your troubles, not without them deeming you as crazy and locking you up in the psych ward. 

You nodded slowly in response, bringing your drinks to your lips once again- you tried not to grimace at the taste. "Fine," you said shortly, unable to muster up the energy it took to pretend to be okay.

"Do you... want to talk about it?" He asked as he hesitantly stepped closer, though he was still careful to ensure that the two of you didn't touch. 

"Not particularly," You hummed in response, and you internally cursed the tears that began to prick your eyes. It was a sure sign that the thoughts inside your head were desperate to come out, but if you were good at anything, it was suppressing your emotions. Even when it felt like you were drowning in them.

The man lingered beside you, like he didn’t want to leave you alone, but he also wasn’t sure of what to say, "Did you know that alcoholism, while typically attributed to environmental factors, can also be equally attributed to genetic factors? Someone with a parent or sibling that abuses alcohol is 3 to 4 times more likely to abuse it as well, and it almost always begins by using alcohol to self-medicate." 

At first, you were caught off guard by him suddenly sounding like a wikipedia article, but then his insinuation hit you and you were mildly offended. "You just met me three minutes ago, and now you're calling me an alcoholic?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

His eyes widened and he vehemently shook his head in response, "No, no, I'm merely suggesting that you..." He trailed off, biting down on his bottom lip as he realized he would only dig himself a deeper hole. He swallowed and attempted a different approach, "I just think that if you're... struggling... you should talk to someone."

You inhaled deeply at his words, and pinched the bridge of your nose. You didn't want to be rude, because he seemed genuinely concerned, but this conversation was grating. “Yeah, well, sorry, but I’m not really in the mood to play therapist tonight.” “Actually, I’m a doctor, not a therapist.” He quickly corrected, which only added to your annoyance. Then, the scraping of the chair next to you filled your ears, as he pulled it out from beneath the bar top and sat down. Great.

“Then, why are you trying to get me to talk about my feelings?” You huffed, meeting his eyes once again. 

His lips formed a sympathetic pout, “Because you look like you need it.” He said gently, eliciting another sigh from you.

You looked up at the ceiling of the bar, as you debated internally. Maybe you did want to talk about it, to get it off your chest, but it wasn’t like you could divulge everything, and even if you could, you doubted some random guy would be able to say anything comforting. “My brother’s gone.” The words came out weakly, before you could even process what you had said.

“Gone?” He asked, his quiet tone barely audible over the music and chatter in the bar. You kept your eyes trained on the last sip of whiskey in your glass as you gave a slight nod, “Yeah… everyone- everyone thinks he’s dead, but… there was no body.” Now that you had started talking about it, the words just kept spilling out, “But I know he’s still out there, I- I know it. I just… I don’t know how to- I don’t know if I can find him.” A moment of silence passed between the two of you, and you looked up from your glass in anticipation. Deep-down, you hoped he would somehow come up with the perfect thing to say. Something that would suddenly cause the wild storm of thoughts swirling around in your brain to clear, or lift the heavy weight of the guilt that settled in your chest. But he didn’t. The disappointment you felt started to sink in as he stared at you with pity in his eyes.

“How long has he been missing?”

“Six months.”

His brows furrowed instantly at your answer, and his stare hardened as if he was deep in thought, “That’s… an awfully short amount of time for someone who’s missing to be determined dead.”

Your lips parted with a sigh at his words. Well, that therapy session was short-lived. You did not feel like carefully choosing words, or coming up with elaborate lies to fill the holes in your story just so you could bare your soul to a stranger. 

“...It’s complicated.” You admitted, forcing the last sip of whiskey down your throat. When you got up from your seat, he quickly followed suit.

“Wait, um, are you… going to be okay to get home?” He asked, swaying awkwardly. You nodded, “Yeah, I’m not driving.” Even if you were, you had only had one drink and you nursed it. “Okay, I just um-” He swallowed nervously and dug out a card from his pocket and offered it to you, “If you… ever need anything, just um, give me a call.”

                                      Doctor Spencer Reid The United States Federal Bureau of Investigation Washington, DC                                 (702) 555-0103

You looked between him and the card he had just handed you, and you were almost impressed by the fact that he worked for the FBI, but you were mostly confused by why he chose to give you his card. “Does every FBI agent just hand out their card whenever they hear a sob story?” “Well, no, I just um- I just thought that, you know.. Maybe- maybe, if something about your brother came up or- or if you needed something I could just um, I dunno, offer some extra assistance.” His eyes finally landed on you as he finished his sentence, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. The corner of your mouth tugged into a subtle smile at his awkward demeanor. He was sweet, but you knew he couldn’t help you. Still, you gestured to the card in your hand, “Thanks, maybe I will.”

You weren’t sure why, but you gave him your name before you left the bar, and you weren’t sure why, but instead of throwing his business card away, you slipped it into your jacket pocket for safe keeping.

[scribbledghost]

Do you think… inhuman Vess would ever fuck the reader in front of the other vessels…?

I think Vessel absolutely would fuck you in front of the others, and in fact I can see it becoming a bit of a precursor to PolyVessels territory, if I'm honest.

See, the mental connection isn't just between you and Vessel - it's between everyone in the manor. So it's not like the others aren't aware of what's been going on. (Especially with the copious amount of glass that Vessel keeps breaking during his orgasms at first lmao). Vessel tries his damnedest to keep it just between the two of you, but he often gets so drunk on you he can't help but let down those mental barriers. It's something Vessel discussed with you before you had ever slept together, and he told you that them sort of... "overhearing" would be a possibility.

So, they know already. And none of them can deny they want you both, too. It's a rather open secret, really.

When the two of you decide to invite one (or more) of the others in, it's under one stipulation at first: they can't touch. Just watch. How they react in that scenario will affect how Vessel and you proceed further later.

It's sort of a process, really. You want each of them to see individually before all of them being present.

II is first, and he patiently sits by as Vessel takes you. He doesn't even ask to touch you, he only asks to touch himself. Though, despite the physical distance, he allows himself to take advantage of your connection. He tells you how good you both look, how pretty the sounds you make are. As you're coming down from one of your orgasms, you even hear II's thought of "Ves, you lucky bastard".

III is next, and he's much more animated. He refrains from begging to touch you, kiss you, feel you, but you can tell in his head he desperately wants to. His thoughts betray him here, telling you how badly he wants you. But he doesn't speak. Instead, he simply whines and groans along with you, stroking himself to multiple orgasms as Vessel bends you over the side of the bed.

IV is last, and is the only one to verbalize what he's thinking. He doesn't ask to touch, but he tells you he wishes he could. He knows he can't, he knows you told him he could only watch. But goddamn what he wouldn't give to have his hands on you. He tells you that you look perfect seated on Vessel's face, and when he notices you about to come for the third time, he gives a soft "gonna give us another one, sweet girl?"

All of them together are sort of a grab bag, really. They play off of each other, feed off of each other's desires. II may be more vocal, while III may be more subdued. It's sort of fascinating to see how they all sort of even out when they're all present. However, that doesn't stop them from openly fantasizing about (and mentally projecting to you) which positions they'd have you in so everyone gets a proper turn. They're very creative.

[penny00dreadful]

<<Previous Part | AO3 | Next Part>>

Eddie had a plan.

Well, not so much a plan… more of a series of events that he hoped whatever deity might be listening and actually bothered to give half a fuck would actually make happen.

Because he was at least eighty… four percent sure Steve had been sending him signals over the last few months.

Months listening to Steve gush about the kids that had recently fallen into his lap, helping Dustin out with his curls for the Snow Ball, or blinking those big sad eyes up at him when he talked about his dad making him get a job somewhere in the new mall so he could understand what real hard work was.

Eddie had scoffed at that. 

Like Harrington Sr. knew what real hard work was.

But there had been all these little touches. These lingering looks.

And the blushing.

Eddie prided himself on the fact that he could get the most biteable pink colour to rise in Steve’s cheeks and over his nose with only a couple of words.

All that was to say that Eddie was going fucking crazy with it all and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to survive it much longer.

So he had to do something about it.

Which is what led him here, to Steve’s front door.

Or more accurately Steve’s driveway because he hadn’t worked up the courage to actually step outside his van yet.

But the lights were on and there was no sign of his parents, otherwise he would have turned right around.

So there was nothing left to do other than step out, saunter up to the door, give it three hard knocks, confident knocks, just like he’d planned and hit Steve with his most charming grin.

Once he was inside he’d pull out every stop, lay the flirting on so thick Steve would barely be able to breathe and then, when the time was right, he’d brush a curl behind Steve’s ear and lean in.

Okay so it was a little hopeful, but Eddie was nothing if not an improviser and he was an expert at going with the flow, so on the slim chance that anything went wrong, he could work around it.

He would be getting a kiss today if it killed him.

Or he’d take the rejection if it came, but he was really trying not to dwell on that possibility.

Okay.

Okay.

Eddie took a deep breath and finally stepped out of the van, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans, though he’d blame that on the muggy late May air.

He was able to deliver those three solid knocks to the door.

After some shuffling and some cursing coming muffled through the door, Steve poked his head out, his face completely draining of colour when he caught sight of Eddie.

Well.

Not off to the best start.

“Eddie.” He breathed, keeping his body hidden behind the door.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is it a bad time?” 

Fuck.

Maybe he’d completely misjudged the situation.

“Um…”

“I checked to make sure your parents were gone but…” Eddie let the words fade out as he really took in Steve’s expression. 

He looked uncomfortable, tense and a little scared. 

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” The pet name just slipped out, coloured completely by his concern.

That delicious pink colour dusted over Steve’s cheeks again and he stared at Eddie hard, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

He seemed to come to a decision, his shoulders slumping and a sigh escaping him.

“Everything’s fine, it’s just…” Steve cut himself off with a huff and a groan. “You’re gonna see it eventually, I guess. So will everyone in fucking Hawkins so might as well-”

He disappeared behind the door, a solitary arm coming out to wave Eddie inside.

Screw his plan, something was wrong.

“Whatever it is, Stevie,” he said, stepping inside and turning as the front door clicked closed behind him, “I’m sure we can figure-”

But his words faded away when he finally registered what he was looking at.

There, Steve was standing in all his glory, red faced and trying to look unaffected, a hand on his hip and very determinedly not looking at him. 

All the while wearing the most ridiculous and somehow the most salacious little sailors costume Eddie had ever seen in his life.

He was completely struck dumb, openly ogling, openly staring, dragging his eyes up and down Steve’s body, from his strong legs wrapped up in those tiny shorts to the chest hair poking out over the top of the shirt just begging Eddie to bury his fingers in deep and pull.

Steve was fidgeting under his gaze, getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing second until he had to break the silence.

“There’s a fucking hat too.”

Eddie could only absentmindedly nod and mutter, “Is there?” to show he was listening because in all honesty he was on a whole other plane of existence.

“Yeah, it’s fucking…” Steve shook his head, pulling the aforementioned hat out of his pocket and cramming it onto his head with a scowl, waving his hands out as if to say ‘tada’.

There was nothing Eddie could do about it, he could only just keep staring.

It didn’t make any sense?

How did he look so pretty?

Steve always looked pretty but this was pretty dialled up to eleven. This was soft and sweet and giant glittering, puppy dog eyes levels of pretty. 

Was there fucking magic woven into the polyester fabric or something? Did that shade of blue just really, really suit him? 

What was this sorcery?

“Listen, man. Can you just-” Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “Can you stop staring and just like… make fun of me now so we can get it over with and move on?” He had a little pout on his face, he looked embarrassed and upset and Eddie couldn’t have that. 

He stepped forward.

“You look like a Ken doll.”

“Thanks.” Steve replied, sulking, stepping back and looking so uncomfortable Eddie couldn’t stand it.

“Stevie.” Eddie said, almost breathing the word into the scant air between them. When had they gotten so close? Steve jumped like he also hadn’t noticed how close they had gotten, his eyes going wide, flicking down to Eddie’s lips for just a moment before bouncing back up to meet his gaze again. “It’s a good thing.”

Eddie couldn’t help himself anymore, raising a hand to Steve’s chest to drag his fingers through the hair poking out.

He could feel Steve’s rapidfire heartbeat underneath his fingers and he heard the tiny little inhale when he touched bare skin.

Steve was still staring at him, mouth slightly parted. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Eddie croaked back.

“Like you want to eat me.”

“Because I do.” He whispered, finally dragging his gaze up from the chest hair to look him in the eye. “Can I?”

Steve nodded.

Eddie dragged his hand down, wrapping his fingers around that stupid little red ascot and used it to pull Steve into him.

In all his planning and all his ideas of how this was going to go, he hadn’t thought that Steve was going to be looking like a walking wet dream.

He also hadn’t expected Steve to be just as eager. He’d expected, hoped, that he’d be just as into it but he thought he’d be shy. Maybe nervous or meek.

He’d been so stupid to think that.

This was Steve Harrington.

King Steve.

While he was pulling Steve towards him by the ascot, Steve’s hands snapped up to grab him by the hair, yanking him forward and they crashed together so forcefully he was pretty sure he cut open the inside of his lip on one of his bottom teeth but he didn’t fucking care.

He was finally kissing Steve Harrington.

His Stevie.

They were both pushing, the two of them manoeuvring and shoving, trying to get the other up against the wall but Eddie won out eventually, crowding him back, a hand at either side of his head, caging him in.

He was licking in, trying to taste every inch he could and almost as soon as his hands landed on the wall, he removed them.

Why the fuck was he touching the wall when Steve was right there?

He dragged his hands down, eventually bringing them around to cup that beautiful ass that he wanted to do terrible things to.

Steve took advantage of the movement, spinning them around until Eddie was the one caged in against the wall now.

Which was… different.

Not bad, but different.

He was always the aggressor but being blanketed completely by Steve, still able to pull him in by the ass was different.

Good, even.

“Like a Ken doll, huh?” Steve hummed against his jaw, grinding up against him.

Eddie could practically hear what Steve was gonna say next.

Does this feel like a Ken doll to you?

But…

Even though he expected it.

Even though he’d heard it before.

The shrill ringing of the phone still came as a surprise.

Steve was still holding him tight, still pressed it close, firm and caring, but his attention had drifted over to a spot on the wall by Eddie’s head.

He only had a few moments, a few seconds more.

Eddie brought his hands up to grasp Steve by the face, turning him back to look him in the eye.

"I love you, you know that?” He almost whispered, feeling that old familiar lump in his throat again, his bottom lip wobbling. “Please tell me you knew that before…"

Steve hit him with a soft smile, winding a hand through his hair, gently pulling him in and cradling him closer into his neck.

That fucking phone was still ringing in his ear, hanging where it shouldn't be, on the wrong wall in the wrong room, teal with a twisted cord.

"I know.” Steve soothed into his hair. “I know because you know. I knew I was loved by you. I've always known."

"Can you-" Eddie took a shuddering inhale, knowing it was futile but needing to try anyway. "Can you stay? For just a minute longer. Don't go yet."

"You know I can't." Steve gave him one last squeeze. "I have to answer this. It’s about Max."

The phone stopped ringing.

Back at the beginning, when all of this apocalypse nonsense started, Eddie wasn’t exactly involved. 

Like, yeah. He wasn’t particularly involved before Spring Break either, but the apocalypse had started a couple of weeks after that and Eddie had ended up convalescing all over again because of it. 

But this time it was within an infirmary tent in Evacuation Zone C, rather than a fully stocked hospital. The rush to get themselves out of Hawkins and the panic that came with not being sure where the rest of their friends and families were while they ran had meant Eddie, still looking like a demobat chew toy, had pushed himself too far.

He had woken up in the tent, barely exonerated and immediately panicking because while the infirmary wasn’t empty, there wasn’t a single member of the scrappy little Upside Down Fellowship to be seen.

It had only been a few moments later, however, when he heard the familiar voices of both Nancy and Dustin raising holy hell somewhere outside, screaming at some poor soldier about getting back in contact with Agent Stintson, Doctor Owens, his commanding officer if they had to, because they had been told, they had been sworn to that their friends and family would also be evacuated. That their people might be sent to one of the other five Evacuation Zones, but they would do everything within their power to get them all into one place together.

No big surprise then, when that hadn’t happened. 

It had apparently been two days already, according to Dustin’s high pitched shrieks and they had heard nothing. He didn’t know where Claudia was, or if she’d even gotten out, Nancy didn’t know where her family was. They didn’t know what had happened to Max, still at Hawkins Memorial Hospital when the apocalypse hit. They had no idea where any of the Sinclair’s were. 

Robin.

Steve.

Wayne.

They could be at a different Evacuation Zone. They could be dead. They could be still in Hawkins, now on a militarised quarantine lockdown, no one in or out unless they wanted to go up against a line of soldiers.

Even then, the cracks spreading out like a spiderweb, the vines bursting up through the ground, the demogorgons, the Ghouls mostly deterred anyone looking to break back in.

He could still remember bouncing around in the back of Nancy’s station wagon as she weaved her way at top speed out of Hawkins, black spots in his vision the pain almost unbearable, but not unbearable enough to drown out the sounds of the rest of the town trying to run.

The screaming, the screeching of tires, the crunching of metal as people veered off the road at speed, the sirens, the complete and utter confusion.

It had definitely sounded like an apocalypse.

And it had gotten quiet since.

At least, that was what the rumours were.

From complete chaos, to silence over the last two days.

Which meant anyone still inside… it didn’t bear thinking about.

They just didn’t fucking know.

The only people they thought were maybe, probably safe were the Byers, Hopper and El. 

They had all left barely twelve hours before everything went down, travelling back to California to pick up the last of the Byers stuff to move back to Hawkins.

They’d probably barely made it to Tulsa when it happened. 

But they were out of Indiana when it hit, they all knew that for sure thanks to a quiet phone call from El when they hit St. Louis.

She hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t wanted to leave Max’s side. But her stuff was down in California too and she had only agreed to go when Hopper had promised to stick by her side and Jonathan had promised they would stop often so she could call back and check in for any changes to Max’s situation.

They’d only managed one call before everything went to shit.

And like, Eddie wasn’t stupid. Neither were Nancy and Dustin, so when the three of them spoke in hushed voices around Eddie’s little cot in the infirmary tent, they agreed that El’s leaving Hawkins had probably been what spurred Vecna into attacking when he did.

There wasn’t a psychic child in the town anymore to defend it, not that she could have. His attack was vicious, quick, sudden and unexpected.

They all had thought they’d have more recovery time before shit hit the fan.

The three of them had silently agreed to never mention it to her.

If they ever saw her again. 

She’d probably figure it out herself and they didn’t want to add to the inevitable guilt.

Eddie had attempted to sneak out of the infirmary on day four of their stay, to join Nancy and Dustin on what would have probably been a suicide mission to sneak back into Hawkins and search for their people themselves.

But he’d been caught, just as Dustin and Nancy were caught not long after. 

The only reason the three of them had avoided military detainment for what would have probably been a never ending amount of time, was because Nancy and Dustin had slowly been amassing a small number of loyal followers.

People had started to notice.

People had started to become aware that those two, and Eddie to a lesser extent, had more information than even the soldiers about what the fuck the vines and demogorgons and ghouls were.

And people were starting to get just as pissed off with the lack of information being communicated.

So there was a near schism.

It was clear the military goons hadn’t been told much. They’d just been told to follow orders like good little soldier boys and they had been doing absolutely nothing to quell the frantic questions, anger and growing conspiracy theories amongst those in their Zone.

And while a growing number of people were starting to latch onto Nancy and Dustin as their de facto authority leaders, it wasn’t everyone.

Some people refused to believe anything beyond what they had already decided was the truth.

Be it aliens (incorrect), a government conspiracy (somewhat correct) or Eddie himself (comically incorrect).

Eddie had found himself slipping back into that persona he had perfected in school. 

Protector of his sheep.

Though it was slightly more dangerous now than schoolyard bullies, Eddie was also slightly more dangerous than he had been. 

And he looked it, too.

Covered in bandages and wounds that were only just starting to heal again, a gnarly chunk of flesh missing from his face and neck that made even the most self-important fucker grimace at the sight of.

Adding onto that, there was a look in his eye now, a steely strength to his shoulders and his jaw that did just as much as a battle vest ever had for sending the middle-classers scattering.

Probably had something to do with him having a fist fight with death and winning.

And the satanist rumours. 

They came in handy now. People were wary of him, more than they ever had been.

And that was how he found himself playing guard dog for Nancy fucking Wheeler.

It wasn’t all bad. Those that had a little more common sense than righteous indignation running through their veins were actually starting to come around and… respect him?

It was one of the wildest things to ever happen to him and that was saying something. 

He’d been to a whole other fucking dimension, he’d been accused of murder, accused of witchcraft and deals with the devil, but respect from the refugees of Hawkins was still something he never thought he’d have.

Things only continued to get better for them once Wayne turned up.

He was full of fire and spit at being given the runaround from the military in Zone E, insisting they had better things to be doing rather than search for his nephew. One guy amongst hundreds missing or misplaced.

Eddie threw himself at his uncle right there in the main thoroughfare of Zone C and held on like his life had depended on it.

Wayne had clutched at him tight and later, with Eddie tucked under his arm like a scared child, had listened to Nancy and Dustin tell him how he was the first to be found. How the military were effectively stonewalling them. How they knew next to nothing.

It hadn’t been long then, for Wayne to join Dustin and Nancy in what had essentially turned into a coup of authority over the military.

Eddie wasn’t far behind, but the injuries on his neck and face meant he only ever really spoke when he had to, and the impact of that had people listening closely whenever he did.

The arrival of Wayne had reignited all of their hopes that everyone else would show soon, like it was practically a given. Of course the rest of their friends and family would show.

Wayne turning up meant the others couldn’t be far behind, surely, whole and determined and invincible as they all were, as they all had been in the past.

Eddie looked back on those days now with a bitter sort of feeling, wondering how they could have been so naive.

Nancy was the first one to have to deal with the gut punch, telling them all that wasn’t quite true.

When Karen Wheeler was found along with Mike, Holly and the Sinclair parents, they arrived exhausted, emotionally drained and already coming to terms with their losses.

Ted had gotten his wife and his kids out once the hoard descended and had died for his efforts. 

The Sinclair parents were alone.

No Lucas. No Erica.

They hadn’t heard from anyone else. They were all just as in the dark as the rest of them. 

They had no answers about where everyone else was.

Nancy had been alight with rage that had nowhere to go, apart from barking at military officers. 

The Sincair parents remained hopeful for as long as they could, perking up every time new people arrived into Zone C, but that was all dashed every time. 

As the weeks slowly passed, Susan Mayfield and Claudia Henderson were found and transferred in. 

Dustin clung onto his mom for hours afterward.

Susan was dead eyed and defeated. 

No one knew where Max was, if she was still trapped in the hospital she’d last been seen in or if she’d gotten out somehow. 

It was highly unlikely.

She’d still been comatose and broken.

If she had woken up at any point… it wasn’t looking good. 

The Buckley parents, arriving in the middle of it all, were just as lost, slowly retreating back into themselves.

The military still weren’t giving them any answers. 

And it only served to draw more people to their side, the fact that a high school journalist, a drug dealer, and a nerdy kid who spent his time fucking around with his walkie in the hopes he could contact any of his friends were the only ones with any kind of inclination as to what was going on, and any kind of idea of how to move forward.

By the time the Hoppers-Byers turned back up, it was nearly nine months later.

And things had both gotten worse and better by then.

The military had up and abandoned them.

They had woken up one morning in the previous month to find their usual bases a ghost town, equipment left behind, fatigues and weapons and some trucks abandoned.

Communication with the other quarantine zones told them that the same had happened all over. 

The military had been pulled out of Indiana completely, leaving them all to be ghoul food.

And so their planning started. 

Nancy, Dustin and Eddie had started making plans to collect people, scared and panicked from their quarantine zones, not knowing what to do or who to turn to.

They had a plan set up and ready to go when a truck pulled up to the gates, beaten to hell and barely slowing down.

The gates had slammed open on their own, sending Nancy’s appointed patrolling guard into a frenzy.

The only reason the Hoppers-Byers didn’t end up riddled with bullets was both because of El’s powers and Dustin, Mike and Nancy’s shouts to ‘hold your fire!’

El threw herself from the truck without a care in the world and straight into Dustin and Mike’s arms.

Their elation was short lived, however.

El informed the camp that the cracks were spreading, the vines and demogorgons and ghouls were branching out and it wouldn’t be long before they were overrun.

They needed to abandon camp and they needed to do it now.

The bad news didn’t stop there.

El was being… blocked somehow.

She couldn’t enter the void, she couldn’t even access it anymore.

It was like Vecna had shut her out, like closing off a plane of existence to her.

She could still move things with her mind and that was awesome and Eddie was pretty sure he was just staring at her open-mouthed since she’d blasted the gates open, but she couldn’t search for people any more.

And so, any hope that might have been building that they would have been able to find their missing party members crumbled once again.

While they all came together to plan out a hasty retreat, settling on a small town in the north with a sizable gated community that Karen had been hoping to move to at some point in her life, Dustin refused any input.

Apparently the Party had been aware of Karen’s hope to move and had dubbed the place ‘Rohan’. Years ago, when they were still full of childish whimsy and the worst thing they could think of happening was one of their party members moving forty-five minutes away by car, they had meticulously tracked the way there and back in case they needed to rescue Mike from suburbia.

Dustin put up the mother of all fights, screaming at them all that they had to stay. This was where they were supposed to meet Steve and the rest of the Party. This was where they would have been told to go! They had to stay! They couldn’t leave until they turned up. What if they arrived and everyone had gone?

It was only the darkening and reddening of the clouds in the distance that convinced him it was futile to stay.

But even so, he insisted on leaving a message.

They left a crude spray painted ice cream cone on the stone wall at the entrance with an arrow pointing back to the command center hut.

Inside, they’d ripped all of the maps, diagrams and papers from the walls, needing to take them with them, but that ended up being Dustin’s canvas.

Scoops Troop, Ranger and Red. The week is long, The silver cat feeds, When blue meets yellow in the north, A trip to Rohan sounds nice, If you tread lightly. 

None of them knew what the fuck Dustin had just come up with or how that explained anything, but he insisted that it made sense, slamming his compas down on the desk directly below the words and storming out of the hut.

Eddie decided to leave his own memento, just in case. Because as much as he tried to placate Dustin, there was a terrible, horrible little glimmer of hope in his own chest that somehow Steve was still alive and out there, looking for them.

He wrapped his black bandana around the gated entrance, a small sticky note covered in sellotape to protect it from the elements attached:

Come at once if convenient. If inconvenient, come all the same.

Their trek to Rohan was long and winding. They took constant detours to the other evacuation zones, collecting people as they went.

All in all, it was a month later by the time they reached the high walls and gates.

The things that had earned Eddie ire from the good people of society before the apocalypse now seemed to be viewed with respect.

Case and point, the ridiculously rudimentary and hastily applied chain and padlock holding the gates closed and barring them from entrance to the abandoned community was quick work for him, able to leave the lock intact enough to be locked again behind them.

They had swept the place, hoping that they weren’t breaking into some other groups safe haven but it seemed like the richy-riches of Indians had been able to be evacuated much more smoothly than the poor fuckers from Hawkins.

And so, that was where they had settled ever since.

It was where they had set up, what was essentially Hawkins 2.0.

The high walls were constantly patrolled, keeping them safe from ghouls and bandits, they had crops planted, they had a laundry and a water supply from the water tower up the hill. 

It was the best they could have ever hoped for.

And even then, their little broken Fellowship always hoped for those figures on the horizon.

But they never came.

Steve’s face was swimming in front of him, beat and battered, smelling of smoke and ash, still dressed in his Scoops uniform, sitting on Eddie’s fucking couch smiling through the pain.

Wayne knelt in front of him, gently dabbing antiseptic over his face.

They were quietly joking with each other, keeping the mood light and all Eddie could do was stand and stare.

Stand and stare in numb shock at the state his boyfriend had appeared in amongst the ambulances and flashing lights outside the mall, waving off Wayne’s attempt to help him walk to the van, Eddie trailing behind, wide eyed and completely helpless.

They had kept up a steady banter, Steve and Wayne while Eddie sat in the back, unable to take his eyes off the caked in, already dried and flaking blood in Steve’s hair, the handprint slowly blooming around his throat, the raw ligature wounds around his wrists.

Nothing about it said fire.

Eddie knew deep in his bones that he would spend the next few hours staring at his uncle and his boyfriend, smiling and laughing with each other through the tension like Steve had just skinned his knee on the basketball court.

He knew after that that he would help Steve wash everything off in the bath, not wanting him to stand in the shower.

He knew that when he saw the mottled bruising skin under his shirt, the cuts and other injuries he could barely even stomach thinking about, he’d have a quiet little breakdown in his bedroom when Steve insisted with what seemed to be his last thread of dignity that he could handle the rest by himself.

He knew that he clung onto Steve throughout the night and the next morning, barely sleeping, unable to stop watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, just making sure that he was still alive. 

And as Eddie was shocked into consciousness by the sound of unfamiliar footsteps coming up the stairs towards his bedroom, he knew that whoever had woken him up had saved him from the teal landline phone with a twisted cord appearing on the headboard of Eddie’s bed. 

He had barely cracked his eyes open, taking in the reality of the devastatingly empty bed next to him and between one inhale in and the next, he had his hand solidly around his weapon.

He snatched the rifle up from the side of his bed, and had it cocked and pointed at his closed bedroom door as those heavy footfalls kept approaching, survival instinct beaten mercilessly into him.

Though in the back of his head he knew that there was no way a ghoul could have made it up the stairs to his bedroom, there would have been uproar in the streets and he would have been awoken long before, as a line of defence. And in any case, ghouls moved almost silently. They were deadly quiet. 

But then, ghouls weren’t the only dangerous things in the world right now.

Sometimes…

Sometimes humans were worse. 

Eddie knew the sound of Wayne’s footsteps, he’d grown up with them, he’s spent the majority of his life listening to them and whoever was approaching him right now was not his uncle. 

“Hold your fire, Munson!”

Hopper’s voice came through the wall rather than behind the door, almost like he had pressed himself up against it, in case Eddie shot first and asked questions later.

Smart move. 

Hopper seemed to understand more than anyone else why Eddie had become so trigger happy recently.

Eddie let out a breath he wasn’t even aware he’d been holding in. 

Clicking the safety back on, he placed the rifle back in his lap and called out for Hopper to come in.

“There’s been a drop.” Hopper poked his head in the door, “looks like the government has finally remembered we exist. Let’s go.”

<<Previous Part | AO3 | Next Part>>

Fic title and lyrics from Through The Valley by Shawn James but it was this version by Ashley Johnson as Ellie that truly captured me.

Big thanks as always to @hbyrde36 for the magnificent beta work and to the @strangerthingswritersguild for their motivation.

@geekymagicalpotato

[badkitty3000]

Look But Don't Touch

A Five x female reader one-shot; 4.5k words, sequel/request

Anonymous asked: After I read your latest post and reached the last bit... I'm gonna be greedy yet desperate if you will... 👉👈🩷🩷🩷Can I beg and ask if you please continue the subway dirty shenanigans right where you left off?? at Max's, where some filthy, sexy filthyyyy party can happen for us???? Please?? I can get on my knees like she did on the train if I have to cuz I'M BEGGIIIIIIIIIIING

Link to post this is referring to here!

Summary: Five takes you to a mysterious deli he swears you will love

Warnings: Smut, masturbation, slight Daddy kink

As you walked along the chilly subway platform, holding Five’s hand, and listening to the clip of your footsteps echo off the grungy, tiled walls, you replayed what had just occurred since you entered that train not so long ago.

I convinced Five to take me on the mysterious train to who knows where

I gave him a FANTASTIC blow job that really I should win some sort of award for

He left me high and dry (well, not dry)

We stopped at some weird ass diner that appeared out of nowhere

I was told not to worry about my cum-stained dress or the fact that I am not wearing anything underneath it

What the fuck is going on here?

You glanced worriedly over your shoulder as the train you had just emerged from took off and disappeared into the dark tunnel.

“Uh, Five? The train just left.”

He continued, unhurried, and didn’t even glance in your direction as he answered. “Another one will be along.”

You nodded, trusting he knew what he was talking about. Not that you had much choice in the matter. As you neared the entrance of Max’s Delicatessen, there was something eerie about it, and it wasn’t just that it happened to exist inside this weird timeloop subway station.

When the door to the restaurant opened, a man walked out. Not just any man. Your man. The same one that was standing right next to you and suddenly pulling you in with an arm around your waist.

“What the…?” you murmured, your jaw dropping.

The other person that looked exactly like Five was hurrying in the direction of the platform you had just left. As he passed, he gave Five a quick nod, pausing for a fraction of a second to look you over before giving you a sideways smile, and then he was off again.

You watched him go, absolutely flabbergasted, and then looked at Five.

“What is going on?”

Five didn’t answer your question. But he did look awfully mischievous as he leaned in to kiss you, running both of his hands down your back before cupping your butt cheeks, pulling your short dress up a little bit in the process. 

“Remember…” he said softly while his long fingers trailed down the side of your neck. “You are mine and only mine.”

You nodded dumbly, not knowing what you were agreeing to. Leading you forward with a hand on the small of your back, you entered the diner, where you stopped dead in your tracks about two feet inside the door.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, right before every single clear green eye in the place was on you. 

You felt like you had just been led into the lion’s den, except that these lions were all in the form of the man whose cock was in your mouth just a few minutes earlier. You’d had dreams like this before. Very, very naughty dreams. But this was undeniably real.

You licked your lips and let out a breathy laugh. “Damn.”

Five… your Five… put a protective arm around your shoulders as he steered you in the direction of one of the booths in the back. Tripping over your own feet as he pushed you along, your head swiveled around, taking in your surroundings. The longer you looked, the more you realized there were slight differences in each man, even though they were all clearly a version of Five.

Some were dressed impeccably in their full three piece suit, sipping from cups of coffee as you walked down the aisle, while others were in various stages of dress, with their jackets thrown over the backs of seats and shirt sleeves rolled up. There were even a few that looked like they had seen better days, completely disheveled, with their hair a mess and ties hanging loosely over untucked shirts.

You noticed one Five had faint streaks of gray in his hair, around the temples, giving him a very distinguished look as he watched you with interest. Another sat at a booth next to what you knew was his beloved mannequin, Dolores. A haughty-looking, bespectacled Five glanced up from his newspaper, rolled his eyes, and got up and left.

As you were shuffled into one of the red vinyl booths, Five pulled you onto his lap, which was odd, considering there was plenty of space to sit next to him, but you were too busy marveling at the handsome face that was nearing your table.

“I wasn’t sure you’d figure out how to make it back here,” the other Five noted casually, setting down his coffee as he slid into the bench seat across the table.

It was so surreal seeing an exact replica of Five, sitting across from you, eyeing you up with that same hungry look your Five always had, and sounding just like him; right down to the gravelly tone of his voice. The main difference was that this one had a pencil tucked over his ear.

 Five’s hands were on your hips, stroking them lightly as he spoke to his doppelganger.

“Of course I did, idiot,” Five sniped back, moving his hands lower to your bare thighs. “Shouldn’t you be waiting tables or something?”

The other Five shook his head. “I’m on break.” Then he turned to you with a smile so familiar it gave you goosebumps. “Hello, darling.”

At the same time that you let out a little gasp at his greeting, Five’s fingers dug deeper into your flesh. His breath warmed the side of your neck as he gently pushed your hair to the side and brushed his lips under your jaw. You closed your eyes, your lips parting, as you wiggled against him.

“What is happening?” you asked quietly.

You had been talking to your Five, who was busy rubbing his cheek against your hair and kissing your shoulder as he massaged your inner thighs, but the Five sitting across from you answered.

“Why don’t you come over here and I can show you,” he said with a smirk while his hand disappeared beneath the tabletop.

Your Five’s head snapped up. “Don’t even think about it, asshole.”

Your eyes fluttered shut again and you let out a little moan when Five started to pull down the straps of your dress, letting them hang off your shoulders. It was like you were hypnotized, as his hands roamed all over your body and his mouth trailed hot lines over your skin. You didn’t seem to care that it was happening in front of a room full of… well… him.

Another Five that had been sitting in a different booth, wearing a full, neatly pressed suit, abandoned his half-finished crossword puzzle and sidled over. He stood next to the table and watched as Five squeezed your tits together.

“He came all over your pretty dress, didn’t he, honey?” Crossword Five shook his head. “We might all be the same person in here, but some of us have manners and know that’s no way to treat a lady.”

“Back off, fuck face,” Five growled back at him. “You know the rules.”

Crossword Five laughed, putting his hands in his pockets as he leaned casually against one of the tables. “Hey, you brought her here. You knew the risk. Besides, Waiter Five here has already started jacking it.”

Waiter Five smiled devilishly at you from across the table, his left hand hidden from view but clearly busy doing something. “Just enjoying the show.”

When he unzipped the back of your dress, exposing your bare breasts as it fell around your waist, Five spoke hotly next to your ear. “I can read that dirty little mind of yours, darling, so just remember what I told you.” His fingertips grazed the stiff peaks of your nipples. “You can look but don’t touch.”

“But… “ you started weakly as you turned your face to kiss along the line of stubble under his jaw. “But, it’s you.”

Crossword Five and Waiter Five both grinned and nodded. “Exactly,” they said in union.

Ignoring the other two, Five began massaging your tits roughly, squeezing and pinching at your nipples until you made a sharp whimpering noise. “I’m going to make you come right here,” he said huskily as he kissed your shoulder. “And they’re going to watch and wish they were me.”

“Again… they are you,” you said with a little laugh, meeting Waiter Five’s eyes. 

You found that looking into the same eyes and face of the person that was quickly working you into a frenzy was very strange but you didn’t exactly hate it. In fact, maybe it was turning you on a little bit more.

Five’s cock was starting to wake up again as you rocked your hips against him, which just added to your growing desire for him.

One of his hands dropped between your legs while the other continued to play with your tits. His fingers found the wet, warm area that he had been too-long in neglecting, and you squirmed against them.

Leaving the intense gaze of Waiter Five, you dropped your head back against the shoulder of your Five, raising your arm up to stroke the back of his neck with your hand. When he began to toy with you, sliding his fingers up and down and over your swollen clit, you whined next to his ear.

With a sharp bite to the side of your neck, Five had you moaning his name out loud. 

“Oh god, Five!” you cried out as you unabashedly shoved his hand harder between your legs while you thrust your hips faster.

At the sound of their name being moaned so wantonly, the other Fives started to close in, sauntering over like a pack of perverted, suit-wearing zombies. But instead of wanting to eat your brain, they clearly would have liked to eat something else.

As you continued to fuck Five’s hand, your juices dripping down onto his pant legs, you opened your eyes. At least two of the other Fives had unzipped their pants and were already starting to stroke their hard cocks. Crossword Five, who seemed to be a little less brash, was watching intently while palming the front of his fine, wool slacks. You could hear a few quiet groans from around the restaurant.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” Five asked teasingly.

You nodded, turning your head to catch his lips with yours as he plunged two fingers inside you, making you clench down around them. “I like when you watch me get off,” you told him in between ravenous kisses. “And there’s a lot of you watching.”

Placing a second hard bite to the other side of your neck, Five gave you another warning. “I’m going to mark you up so all these fucking vultures can remember who you belong to.”

With your whimpers growing louder and your body starting to thrash around on Five’s lap, the other Fives increased their level of debauchery, too. Waiter Five was still watching you, his emerald eyes boring into you as you came closer to reaching your peak. Five was busy marking up your neck and shoulders while his fingers pushed sloppily in and out of you, so you took the chance to break a little of the rules.

Slipping off one of your shoes, you extended your leg under the table. Waiter Five’s eyes widened as your bare foot slipped up the inside of his leg, feeling the warmth and firmness of his thigh, and coming to rest against the prominent bulge of his crotch. He had not started jacking it quite yet, because his cock was still packed away, but it was very clear that it was dying to be let out. His hand caught your ankle as you wiggled your toes against his dick and he inhaled a sharp breath.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble,” he whispered to you with a cocky grin. 

You smiled back at him as he pressed your foot to his clothed dick and rubbed your calf with his hand. Before you could decide how far you wanted to take your little under the table foot fuck, your Five was pushing you over the edge with a few dirty words in your ear and a thumb against your clit.

“Fiiive!” you cried out, which released a frenzy of deep moans and groans across the deli.

With Five holding you tightly against him, your body trembled in his arms while the other Fives watched enviously, but also proudly, knowing it was still their name you were calling out in your moment of ecstasy. Waiter Five let out a low grunt as you teased him just a little more with your foot before lowering your leg.

Breathing fast and hard, with your dress completely useless in covering anything on your body, you took a better look around you. It was the weirdest, most depraved thing you had ever seen in your life. All of the Fives in the deli were now honed in on you. 

You could see now the different stages of arousal they were in. Most of them had their hard dicks out already, stroking them slowly while alternating between making eye contact with you and closing their eyes with a quiet moan. The distinguished looking Five with the graying hair was boldly standing with one foot on a bench, casually yet purposefully undoing his belt and pants to get to work. 

One of the more slovenly Fives in the back was already mid-orgasm as he pumped his fist furiously, letting go of an impressive stream of cum that landed in a sticky puddle at his feet. Another, obviously plastered Five, was clearly suffering from whiskey dick as he mumbled sadly to himself and slid down the wall. The Five that had been sitting with Dolores was in the process of shoving the poor mannequin lady under the table and between his legs.

Crossword Five was still leaning against one of the booths to the side, nonchalantly rubbing at the front of his pants with a condescending smirk on his face.“I like to prolong the pleasure, not just shoot my wad in ten seconds like these other animals,” he told you.

From a supply closet towards the back came another Five, wearing a wrinkled white dress shirt and pants with several buttons undone at the neck and the sleeves rolled up. On his hip hung a spray bottle of some kind of cleaning solution. He was wheeling a mop bucket and whistling a tune, completely oblivious as to what was currently happening in the main dining area. He stopped abruptly, his eyes landing on the fresh wet patch of jizz on the floor in front of him.

Janitor Five groaned and threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Can’t I get one fucking day off?”

“Sorry, man,” the Five who had made the mess told him with a shrug as he zipped his pants back up and ran a hand through his messy hair. “You know how it is.”

You giggled at that, but then Five turned your face to his with a hand on your chin. Despite the fact that he had spilled his cum all over your dress earlier, he was raring to go again with his straining erection still pushed between your legs.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart,” he told you in that tone that made you almost slip right off his lap. With a rough kiss that had you aching for more, he whispered “Think you can handle a little more for Daddy?”

Waiter Five gave you a knowing grin, and then you heard the clink of his belt buckle as he started to unleash his cock under the table. 

Already salivating at the thought of what was next, you shimmied off of Five’s lap and out of the booth. Pushing your dress all of the way off, you realized you had left one of your heels under the table when you were teasing Waiter Five. He noticed before your Five could, and he calmly handed the stray shoe over to you with a smile. You mouthed “thank you” and gave him a little air kiss that only he saw. While you slipped your foot into your other shoe, Waiter Five slipped his hand into his pants.

Standing there, completely naked aside from a pair of black stiletto pumps, and surrounded by a room full of the most gorgeous men (man) you had ever seen, another rivulet of moisture slithered down your leg. 

They may have been different versions of the one you were devoted to, but they all had the same sharp, angular jaw; the same sculpted chest and toned arms; the same long and slender fingers that made you salivate just by looking at them. You knew how each one of them kissed, and how they fucked, and the sounds they made when you did certain things to their body. You knew how their cock tasted and how it felt inside you. 

Holy shit, you wanted them. All of them. But that, you had been told, was against the rules.

That was the thought that was running through your head when you were pulled from behind and pushed face first onto the table directly next to the one where you had just been fingered. It was definitely your Five that did it, because you’d know that excited, raspy groan anywhere. Your legs were pushed apart as you propped yourself up on your elbows.

The rest of the Fives were in full jerk-off mode now, with some of them already nearing the end and others just warming up. But nearly every single one of them had their dick out and their intense green stare set on you. Watching their strong, slender hands work their thick shafts was driving you crazy and you wished your Five would hurry up and just fuck you already.

“Hurry up and fuck her, already!” Janitor Five yelled out from the back, after looking at you with a lecherous smile. He dropped his mop and started hurrying to open up his pants. “Hey, honey, the special of the day is Man Chowder. Let me fix you up a bowl.”

“God, you’re such a disgusting creep!” the Five from behind the service window scoffed.

“Why don’t you go back to jerking it into the mayonaise Brisket, you fucking asshole!” Janitor Five shot back, whipping out his dick.

“Shut up!” Five hissed from behind you, right before you heard his belt buckle hit the floor along with his pants. “God, I love this ass,” he gritted out, rubbing your butt cheek and giving it a light slap.

Five eased inside of you, slowly, while you gripped the sides of the table. You let out a shaky sigh as he filled you up and bottomed out; his hips flush against your backside. As he began fucking you, deliberately and rhythmically, you closed your eyes and bit down on your lower lip.

When you turned your head to the side, you locked eyes with Waiter Five, who was still sitting in the booth next to you and stroking himself under the table. One corner of his mouth turned up, clearly enjoying the fact that you were watching him and vice versa. 

You liked being able to study his face as he worked his dick over, sliding his fist tightly over the shaft, just like you had seen your Five do in front of you before. You liked being the reason he was hard and leaking, with his breath growing more rapid and ragged by the second. And you loved the fact that you could look into his beautiful face while still being railed from behind by another version of him.

“Oh, shit… Five!” you cried out, as he slammed into you abruptly, leaning over you so that his upper body covered your back and he held himself up with his hands on the table. 

“Say it again, baby,” he said softly as he sucked another mark onto your shoulder.

“Yeah, say it again,” Waiter Five demanded, making you wilt under his piercing gaze.

You raised your head, taking in the other Fives. They were all beating their dicks furiously, hair hanging in their eyes, and their brows creased in concentration. 

“Fuuuck…. Five,” you moaned.

That did a few of them in right there, with the familiar sounds of their grunts and groans filling the room as they came into their hands, onto table tops, or the floor. 

A loud whimper escaped your lips as Five suddenly pulled out, leaving you stretched and empty. It didn’t last long, though, before he was pulling you up and spinning you around with his hands on your waist as he boosted you up onto the table. Standing between your legs, he kissed you hard, biting at your lips with a hand at the back of your neck.

When he entered you again, it was with one hard push that had you clinging to his shoulders to keep from sliding backwards. Five held your legs around his waist with a hand under each thigh, letting you lie back onto the table.

“Fuck, I love you,” he hissed, almost angrily between gritted teeth as he slammed his hips into you again.

“I love you, too,” you moaned. You looked over to see that Waiter Five was still locked on you as he beat his dick under the table. You smiled a little and then turned to your Five again. “Baby, please…,” you pleaded, in between sharp gasps. “I want your cum inside me and his covering my tits.”

Five let out a deep growl as he slammed into you with more force. But the beautiful, pornographic noises you were making had him wanting to give you whatever you asked for.

“Fine,” he rasped. “He can come on your tits. But that’s it.”

It hadn’t even occurred to you that these Fives would be able to blink too, but that’s exactly what happened as soon as Waiter Five got the green light. In one flash of blue, he was kneeling on the seat next to you, his hand around his cock as he shamelessly stroked it harder and faster. 

Now you could look at both of them at the same time. Your Five had his head thrown back while he fucked you hard, his hips thrusting manically while his fingers dug sharply into your sides. Waiter Five’s long dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he closed his eyes with a low groan.

“God damn it, I want to absolutely wreck that pussy,” the Five called Brisket groaned pitifully from the kitchen, right before he came all over his food-stained apron.

“Excuse me, but I’m going to go take care of this in private, like a gentleman,” Crossword Five declared as he made a beeline for the bathroom, his pants still painfully restricting the giant hard-on he had refused to release.

With the sounds of skin on skin slapping filling the room, and the groans of all of the Fives growing louder, you couldn’t hold back any longer. Watching as your Five’s dick drilled mercilessly into your hot core, you grabbed onto Waiter Five’s shirt, bunching the material into your fist as you felt yourself tip over the edge.

“Oh god!” you cried out as your body started to seize up with rippling waves of pleasure. “Five… YES!”

That seemed to end both of them as well, and Five filled your pussy with his cum while Waiter Five covered your tits with long, thick ropes of his own. Your climax continued on, aided by the fact that two versions of the sexiest man alive were losing themselves all over you.

Five let out a long, shuddering curse as his dick twitched out the last few drops inside you. “FUUUCK!”

Waiter Five’s wrist finally slowed when he was completely empty, and you both smiled hazily at one another, breathing heavily as your muscles began to relax again.

When Five pulled out, and you were able to right yourself again, you witnessed the insane phenomenon of a dozen other Fives reaching their ends, spewing out load after load of cum while groaning and milking themselves dry. You noticed the pervy Janitor Five had shot his load into the mop bucket.

You leaned your head on Five’s chest as you both caught your breath. He stroked your back and kissed the top of your head.

Waiter Five worked his way out of the booth, shoving his dick back in his pants and buckling his belt. He pushed his hair off his face before grabbing a stack of napkins and offering them out to you.

“Sorry for the mess, but I aim to please. And my aim is pretty fucking good.”

You laughed, taking the napkins and wiping your chest off as best you could while Five bent down to pick up his pants that were around his ankles. “Yes it certainly is. I asked and you delivered, so thank you.”

“Alright, enough chit chat,” your Five said before handing you your wrinkled and dirty dress that had been balled up on the floor. “I need to get you out of here before these shit heads get a chance to chub up again.”

You gave a little pout as you pulled your dress over your head, turning so that he could zip you up in the back. “Are you sure we can’t stay a little longer? I like it here.”

“I know you do, darling. But we only bring our girls here once, as a kind of tradition.” He turned you around to face him, lifting your face to his. “Once is enough… so don’t get any ideas.”

You smiled and kissed him softly. “Oh, I have plenty of ideas that will forever live in my head after today. But don’t worry. I’m perfectly happy to go home with you and only you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

As you were being led towards the door again, Janitor Five called out to you, plopping his mop onto the floor with a splash. “Anytime you’re hungry for more of my delicious trouser gravy, honey, just come on back. Daddy will serve you up something really special.”

There was a loud, disgusted groan from all of the other Fives and one of them threw a salt shaker at Janitor Five’s head, which he dodged with a cheeky grin. Smiling to yourself, you took one last look over your shoulder as the door to Max’s closed behind you. You caught Waiter Five’s eye, who winked and flashed you another gorgeous smile while you blew him a kiss.

Looping your arm through Five’s, you rested your head against his shoulder as you walked towards the waiting train that had just rolled into the station.

“So, are you sure this was a one and done deal?” you said with a giggle.

Five shook his head with a smile and led you onto the train. Pinching your ass and pulling you onto his lap as the train started to move, he grinned. “And risk losing you to that jerk Waiter Five? I don’t think so.”

“But maybe you could… I don’t know… share?” you teased, running your fingers down the length of his tie.

Five sighed heavily, but he was smiling as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “You should know better by now, my love… Daddy doesn’t share.”

I have to give props to my homegirl @kaybreezy3000. She is the one who gave me the idea for this sexy plot. She is also the creator of the pervy Janitor Five in this story, because he was also featured in our collaboration deli fic World's Collide. He is such a sleeze bag and I love him dearly! 🧹❤️

I am tagging those that liked my 'coming soon' post about this fic. If you don't want to be tagged or you want your name off of this, please just let me know!

@hufflepuff4992, @dorkyfangirl24, @thesilvertheorist, @losingmymindforsoobin, @raymondeus, @sansara2462, @clownstillwritesfanfic, @jana0509, @fireheart13x, @sdherself, @tuanputri-magui, @fivehargreevesnumber1fan, @voteforevilthoughts