#this is sO long and also so long overdue pls | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loaksky · 27 days ago

Text

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, who’s rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something��s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.”

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she’s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

She reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#arcane #arcane fanfic #vi x reader #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi smut #vi league of legends #wlw #sapphic #arcane x reader

6K notes · View notes

gardenwons · 3 months ago

Text

NERDY AND NASTY

SYNOPSIS maybe making a nerd beg for your forgiveness was your kink? And maybe making you beg was also his?

PAIRINGS nerd!heeseung x popular!reader

WARNINGS smut with plot(?), switch!heeseung, making out, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, size kink, praising, somewhat insecure heeseung, hint at future 3some

A/N 8k+ words heavily inspired by all the nerd fics *leeechin and her loser!hoon pls.. im currently reading and eating up, loser!hee is long overdue at this point needed to make him a priority lol also super sleepy so not proofread

“I really don’t think you should go through with this. You’ll chew him up and spit him out,” Wonyoung whispered in your ear, her eyes flicking toward the guy a few seats ahead of you.

You hadn’t been paying attention to class for the past two hours, too busy eyeing Heeseung—lanky, messy hair, big glasses that slipped down his nose as he furiously scribbled notes. Something about the way he muttered to himself and hunched over his textbooks made you wonder what he’d be like when things got... intimate. You found yourself biting on your bottom lip and grinned.

“Do you think he’s a virgin?” you whispered back to Wonyoung, ignoring her warning.

She giggled softly. “Maybe. But even nerds have game these days. Might as well find out.”

“I swear, Y/N is staring at you,” Jungwon whispered excitedly, nudging Heeseung’s arm for what felt like the hundredth time. Heeseung tried to ignore him, rolling his eyes.

“No way. She doesn’t even know I exist,” he muttered, flipping through his notes with forced indifference. The idea of you noticing him was ridiculous. You were you—confident, untouchable. He was just some guy trying to survive the semester.

But then, he chanced a glance behind him, just to prove Jungwon wrong. His heart jumped into his throat when his eyes met yours. You didn’t look away. In fact, you winked at him.

Heeseung’s face flushed crimson as he whipped his head back to the front, his pulse racing. Jungwon snickered beside him, clearly enjoying his reaction.

“Told you, man,” Jungwon teased.

Heeseung’s thoughts were spinning. There was no way someone like you would actually be interested in him... right? But he couldn’t help the small spark of hope that flickered in his chest. You, the girl everyone wanted, were giving him attention. For once, he wasn’t invisible. And that both terrified and excited him.

You slipped through the mass of students as soon as class ended, making a beeline toward Heeseung. He was still at his desk, packing up his notes, oblivious to the fact that you were heading straight for him.

Jungwon noticed you first, eyes widening in surprise as he fumbled with his notebooks, hugging them to his chest. “H-Hi, Y/N,” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he elbowed Heeseung hard to get his attention.

Heeseung let out a small groan, rubbing his side as he looked up. His expression shifted from irritation to wide-eyed surprise when he saw you standing in front of him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a casual smile, though you knew you didn’t have to. Your reputation precedes you, but there was something cute about doing it anyway—like a formality. You watched as both of them stammered out their own introductions, even though you already knew their names. They were shy, but that just added to the fun.

“I know who you guys are,” you continued, leaning in slightly. “I was wondering if you’d want to group up for the project? Wonyoung ditched me for someone else, and I thought it’d be okay to work with you guys.” It was a harmless cover, but in reality, you had your eyes on Heeseung for other reasons. Still, two birds with one stone, good grades and a chance to see what Heeseung was really about.

Jungwon immediately nodded, almost too eagerly, slapping a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder. “We’d love that,” he said with a grin, giving Heeseung a look as if urging him to just go along with it.

Heeseung blinked, clearly still processing the fact that you were talking to them at all. “Uh, yeah, I guess it’d be fine,” he mumbled, his lips curling into a shy smile as he glanced at you nervously.

“Perfect! Let me give you guys my number,” you said, flashing them a confident smile. Both of them handed over their phones without hesitation. You quickly entered your contact information on Heeseung’s phone, adding a little heart next to your name for good measure before handing it back.

Jungwon’s eyes darted between you and Heeseung, a knowing grin playing on his lips as you sauntered off. “Dude,” he muttered, nudging Heeseung again, “you better not mess this up.”

Heeseung just stood there, staring at his phone, his heart racing as he saw your name and the heart emoji.

“I’m not sure what just happened,” he muttered under his breath, still in disbelief, “but I think I’m in trouble.”

Two days had passed, and you were growing impatient. Not a single text from either Heeseung or Jungwon. Were they really that swamped with schoolwork, or were they just too shy to make the first move? Deciding you’d waited long enough, you took matters into your own hands and set out to track Heeseung down.

You checked all the usual spots where nerds hang out—the library, the study hall, even the cafeteria—but no luck. Then, as you wandered the quieter part of campus, you passed by the music room. It was mostly abandoned now, dusty and forgotten, but something made you stop. A soft humming caught your ear, pulling you toward the ajar door.

Peeking in, you spotted Heeseung sitting alone, flipping through his notebook and humming quietly to himself. The sight of him caught you off guard—he looked so... at peace. You watched him for a moment, his soft voice filling the empty room. No wonder you couldn’t find him earlier; no one came here anymore.

After a minute of listening, you knocked gently on the door, making him jump. His wide eyes shot up to meet yours, looking startled—almost terrified—at the sight of you standing there.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t know you were—” he started, scrambling out of his seat, offering it to you in a flustered rush. It was the only clean seat in the room, the rest of the space coated in dust and neglect.

But you weren’t focused on that. Your eyes were drawn to him—his usually neat appearance was slightly undone. Two buttons on his shirt were carelessly unbuttoned, his tie loosened around his neck, and the messy look was doing things to you. He looked unexpectedly... hot.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was fumbling through an apology, but all you could think about was how good he looked, so different from his usual polished self.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down with a huff, blowing loose strands of hair away from your face. As you settled in, you beckoned Heeseung toward you with a slow curl of your finger. His breath hitched, and you could already see the nervous sweat forming on his forehead, his body stiff with tension as your presence overwhelmed him. Reluctantly, he shuffled closer until he crouched down, his wide eyes barely able to meet yours as you stared him down.

“It’s not very nice to leave me waiting,” you said coolly, your voice laced with annoyance. Heeseung’s cheeks flushed deeper as he nodded, his gaze flicking away quickly, unable to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.

“I-i didn’t know what to message you...” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked embarrassed, and the sight of him, so timid and unsure, almost made you laugh. Almost. But you bit down on your lip, forcing back the giggle bubbling up. Instead, you shrugged, feigning disinterest, as if his pathetic nervousness didn’t amuse you.

“A simple ‘hi’ would’ve worked,” you replied nonchalantly, watching him squirm under your gaze. You let the tension hang in the air before adding, “But now... I think I want an apology.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he nodded quickly, already muttering, “Of course, I’m really sor—”

“On your knees,” you interrupted, your voice taking on a teasing, yet commanding tone. “Just so I know you’re sincere.” You fluttered your lashes at him, lips curling into a playful pout.

Heeseung’s breath hitched again, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed nervously. But he didn’t argue. Slowly, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling slightly as they hovered by his sides, unsure of what to do. His face flushed a deeper red as his eyes unintentionally fell to the edge of your skirt, where the faintest hint of your pink panties teased him, peeking between your legs. His mouth went dry, and he quickly averted his eyes, his whole body tense as he knelt there, waiting for your next move.

You nodded, silently urging him to continue. Heeseung stammered, his voice shaky as he tried to find the right words. He felt embarrassed, hot under your intense gaze. Just moments ago, everything had been peaceful—normal even—but now, here he was, on his knees, trying to beg for forgiveness while resisting the growing urge to glance between your thighs.

“I-I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his head dropping low in shame, every emotion swirling inside him, mixing into a mess of anxiety, desire, and guilt. He prayed none of it showed, especially the inappropriate thoughts creeping in as he tried to save face.

But you weren’t done. You reached down, gently grabbing his chin, tilting his head back up until his wide eyes met yours again. You fixed his glasses, which had slid down his nose, and ran your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re so cute like this, y’know?” you said softly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. Heeseung choked on his spit, blinking rapidly as his mind struggled to keep up with the situation.

Before he could respond, you stood up, the edge of your skirt brushing against his face. From this angle, he had an unobstructed view of the way your panties moulded perfectly to your cunt, leaving little to the imagination. His breath hitched, and he felt a dizzy wave wash over him. Heeseung’s face turned a shade of red so deep he thought he might faint.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that,” you said with mock innocence, feigning surprise as if you hadn’t planned it all along. Your voice dripped with playful teasing, and you watched as Heeseung struggled to regain control of his thoughts, his eyes darting anywhere but toward you.

You leaned down, lowering yourself to eye level with him again, your lips curling into a smirk. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you? After all i’ve already forgiven you,” you whispered, your tone dripping with suggestion. His mind raced, and his throat felt dry as he nodded frantically, completely out of his depth, but too entranced by you to say anything coherent.

Satisfied, you patted his cheek lightly before turning to leave, letting your fingers trail under his chin for just a moment longer. “Good boy,” you murmured under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. With one last glance over your shoulder, you placed your phone up to remind him of what to do and walked out of the room, leaving Heeseung kneeling on the floor, heart pounding, utterly shaken.

Heeseung stayed frozen in place for a few moments after you left, still processing what had just happened. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, mind racing, trying to figure out how to face you again—or if he even could.

Needless to say, he did message you. His text came in late that night, "Hey, about earlier... I'm really sorry again." You could almost picture him, blushing behind his phone, nervously typing and deleting his words before sending them. That was the moment your plan began to take shape.

It wasn’t long before the perfect opportunity arose. Heeseung and Jungwon invited you over to their place to work on the project. You had played it cool, agreeing without hesitation, masking your real intentions behind the promise of schoolwork. This was your chance to get Heeseung exactly where you wanted him.

You stood outside their apartment door, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you checked your reflection on your phone screen one last time. You’d dressed down, but in a way that still showed just enough—casual yet enticing. After all, you weren’t here just for the project.

When Jungwon opened the door, he greeted you with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in. “Hey! Glad you could make it,” he said, gesturing toward the living room.

As you entered, you noticed immediately how much more relaxed they seemed in their own space. Heeseung sat on the couch, dressed in a fitted graphic tee that accentuated his lean frame, and joggers that hugged his legs perfectly. Gone was the timid, nerdy look he sported in class; here, he was undeniably handsome, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the transformation. Jungwon was equally attractive, his casual hoodie and jeans showcasing a well-defined physique that you hadn’t fully registered before.

“Hey, Heeseung,” you teased, letting your voice drop a little lower as you stepped further into the room. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly averted his gaze, but not before you caught the flicker of something in his expression.

“Hey,” he mumbled, a nervous smile breaking through. You could see him trying to maintain his composure, but his cheeks betrayed him, coloring a light pink.

As you all settled down to work, Jungwon started outlining the project guidelines while Heeseung focused intently on his notes, though you noticed he couldn’t help stealing quick glances your way. You played along at first, discussing ideas, jotting down notes, and pretending to pay attention. But soon enough, the atmosphere shifted.

You stretched out casually, your shirt riding up just enough to reveal a hint of skin, drawing Heeseung’s gaze once again. “It’s getting hot in here,” you murmured, more to yourself but loud enough for Heeseung to hear. His fingers tightened around his pen, and you could see his jaw clench as he fought the urge to look directly at you.

“You okay, Hee?” you asked, your voice laced with playful concern. “You seem a little... distracted.”

Jungwon, oblivious to the tension, glanced over at Heeseung and chuckled. “Heeseung’s always like that when he’s stressed,” he said, shaking his head. “But we can take a break if you need one.” You noted how Jungwon didn’t realize that the real distraction was you, sitting so close, your knee brushing lightly against Heeseung's under the table.

He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure as you continued to inch closer, your knee brushing against his under the table. It was a simple touch, but to him, it felt electric. His thoughts spiralled as his mind conjured images of everything he’d been trying to suppress since that day in the music room.

Suddenly, Heeseung stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. “Uh, can you... can you guys give me a minute?” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I need to... um... take care of something.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Take care of what? We’re in the middle of a project, hee.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing! Just- just a quick break,” he said, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “I’ll be back in a second. Please, just give me a minute.”

He quickly retreated into the hallway, leaving you and Jungwon in stunned silence.

Jungwon looked over at you, puzzled. “Is he okay?”

You shrugged, suppressing a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “I think he might be overwhelmed,” you said, a smirk playing on your lips.

“Maybe we should go check on him,” Jungwon suggested, but you shook your head.

“No, let him have his moment. It’s probably just a bathroom break or something,” you replied, biting your lip to hold back your amusement.

Taking a deep breath, Heeseung leaned against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. He could hear you and Jungwon talking softly in the living room, and the reality of what was happening hit him hard. He was undeniably attracted to you, and the more you flirted, the more he found it impossible to focus.

With shaky hands, he fumbled for his phone and quickly typed out a message: Hey, I’m really sorry, but I’m feeling kind of sick. I think it’s best if we wrap this up for today.

He hesitated before hitting send, biting his lip as he envisioned your reaction. But it was better this way; he couldn’t risk being in the same room with you when his mind was racing in directions he didn’t want it to go.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, his phone buzzed with a reply. You had responded almost immediately: Are you okay? Do you want me to bring you anything?

He frowned at your concern, a mix of guilt and appreciation swirling in his chest. No, I’ll be fine. Just tired, I think. Thanks for understanding.

Another buzz. Okay, we can reschedule. Take care!

He sighed, relief washing over him. Thanks, Y/N.

He took a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He felt guilty for lying, but he knew it was for the best, at least until he figured out how to handle his feelings.

When he finally stepped back into the living room, you and Jungwon were both looking at him expectantly. Jungwon spoke first, his brow furrowed. “Hey, everything okay? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, I just... thought it was best to call it a day,” Heeseung said, forcing a smile. “I’m not feeling great, and I wouldn’t want to distract you guys from the project.”

You raised an eyebrow, concern evident in your eyes. “Are you sure? I can stay if you need anything.”

“No, really. I think it’s best if you go home and let me rest,” he insisted, trying to sound convincing.

“Okay, if you say so,” you replied, though the hint of disappointment in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

You lingered for a moment, looking at Heeseung as if weighing your options. “Text me if you need anything, alright?”

“Of course,” he replied, forcing himself to sound upbeat.

With one last look, you finally turned to leave, and Heeseung felt a pang of regret hit him. As soon as the door closed behind you, he leaned against it, exhaling deeply.

“Everything okay?” Jungwon asked, glancing back at Heeseung, who was still trying to catch his breath. “You looked really flustered when Y/N was here.”

“Yeah, just... a bit overwhelmed,” Heeseung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to freak out in front of her.”

“Dude, she’s into you,” Jungwon said, raising an eyebrow. “You could have just gone with it. Instead, you made her leave.”

“I know,” Heeseung sighed, kicking at the floor. “I just... I don’t know how to handle this. I’m still trying to figure out what I feel.”

Jungwon smirked, shaking his head. “Well, good luck figuring that out while you’re trying to hide your crush. Just don’t take too long.. I don’t want to see you miss your chance.”

Heeseung groaned, plopping down on the couch. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime,” Jungwon said with a grin, heading into the kitchen to grab a snack. Heeseung watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and longing.

Alone in the silence of the apartment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a huge mistake.

You couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of concern for Heeseung after he texted you that he was sick. Even though you had shared playful banter, something in his message had felt off, igniting a spark of worry within you. The thought of him alone in his apartment, feeling under the weather, was enough to propel you into action. Determined to check on him, you decided to surprise him with a visit.

With a small bag of snacks in hand, you made your way to Heeseung’s apartment. The soft sound of your footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the anticipation thrumming in your chest. As you entered Heeseung's apartment, courtesy of Jungwon for lending you a spare key, the cozy space wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The gentle aroma of herbal tea wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of laundry. Heeseung was curled up on the couch, bundled in a thick blanket, looking adorably vulnerable, but there was a flicker of mischief in his eyes. His hair was tousled, and his cheeks had a faint flush that made him look even more endearing.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked softly, crossing the room to kneel beside him.

He turned his head slightly, his large eyes widening with surprise and delight. “Y/N? I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought I told you I was sick.” His voice was a little too casual, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward, betraying his facade.

You smirked, settling down beside him. “Exactly. That’s why I came to check on you. You can’t just lie around here and get worse. Someone has to take care of you.”

He chuckled weakly, but there was an unmistakable glint of mischief behind his eyes. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Too bad! I’m here now,” you declared, standing up and placing your hands on your hips, feigning authority. “Now, let’s see if you have a fever.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, suddenly hesitant. “Uh, are you sure you need to do that?”

Without waiting for his response, you hopped onto the couch, positioning yourself over him. Heeseung’s breath hitched, eyes wide as you settled your weight on his hips, straddling him. The sudden proximity sent an electric shock through the air, making your heart race.

“Just hold still,” you said playfully, leaning down to press your forehead against his, your fingers gently brushing against his cheeks to gauge his temperature. “You’re warmer than usual, but I can’t tell if that’s from your so-called illness or if you’re just flustered.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both…”

You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of exhilaration as your playful banter took on an undertone of tension. “I think we need a more accurate method.”

With a playful grin, you pulled back slightly and reached for the thermometer from your bag. As you turned back to face him, you couldn’t resist leaning in closer, teasingly bringing the thermometer up to his lips.

“Open up,” you instructed, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

Heeseung hesitated, glancing down at the thermometer, his expression shifting from playful to anxious. “Uh, are you really sure this is necessary?”

“Of course! How else am I supposed to know if you’re truly sick?” you replied, maintaining your teasing tone.

Finally, he relented, opening his mouth to take the thermometer. The moment it beeped, you pulled it away and glanced at the reading. “Looks like you’re slightly warm. But nothing I can’t fix.”

“Is that so?” Heeseung asked, his voice slightly shaky as he tried to maintain his composure beneath you. “Are you sure you want to be here?”

You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips. “Yes! A little TLC should do the trick. Now, let’s get you some soup and-”

Before you could finish your thought, he interrupted you, a sudden seriousness in his eyes. “Y/N, are you sure you’re not just doing this because you feel sorry for me?”

The question caught you off guard. You had been so wrapped up in the playful banter that you hadn’t fully considered the implications of your actions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated to take care of me just because I’m ‘sick.’ If you’re here because you genuinely want to, then that’s one thing. But if it’s out of pity…” His voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding his expression.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of warmth at his vulnerability. “Heeseung, I’m here because I want to be. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t care about you.”

The tension between you two hung in the air, your heart racing at the honesty in your words. You could see the relief wash over his features, followed by a glimmer of something deeper, something that felt almost like hope.

“Really?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Yeah,” you replied, your gaze steady on his. “I like being here with you, even if you are pretending to be sick.”

Heeseung smiled shyly, his heart swelling with emotion. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot to me.”

With that, the playful atmosphere returned, but now it was layered with something more- an understanding, a connection that felt genuine and real. As you straddled him, the weight of your body pressed against his, sending a jolt of electric tension sparking through the air. Heeseung's breath hitched, confusion mingling with an undeniable desire swirling within him. The playful glint in your eyes ignited a fire in his chest, the warmth of your presence overwhelming in the most intoxicating way possible.

“Y/N, are you really sure about this?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly, as if afraid this intoxicating moment would shatter like glass at any moment.

“Absolutely,” you replied, a mischievous smirk curling your lips as you leaned closer, your breath teasingly brushing against his ear. “But first, let’s check your temperature.” The teasing lilt in your voice sent shivers cascading down his spine.

He hesitated, caught in a whirlwind of emotions that twisted and turned inside him. “I’m not really sick, though…” he mumbled, cheeks flushed and gaze flickering to the side, not wanting to admit how desperately he craved the closeness.

You let out a soft, playful laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, come on, seungie. Let me take care of you.”

Before he could protest any further, you pressed your palm against his forehead, the heat radiating off him igniting a thrill in your veins. Heeseung gulped, feeling the weight of your gaze anchoring him in place, his mind racing as he struggled to focus. You could see the way he squirmed under your touch, his breath hitching at the slightest contact, his vulnerability only heightening your desire.

“You’re definitely warm,” you said, feigning seriousness, your thumb gently stroking his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin. “But I think we need to take this a step further.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, heart racing with anticipation and confusion, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

Without answering, you shifted slightly, sliding your hands down to his waist, locking your eyes onto his. “I need to get a better reading.” With that, you fully settled into his lap, your weight pressing him deeper into the plush couch. Heeseung’s breath hitched, eyes wide as he felt the intoxicating heat of your body against his.

“Y/N, wait—”

You leaned closer, fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt, teasingly close to where you knew he wanted you the most. “Just relax, Hee. Let me take care of you.”

He hesitated, heart pounding fiercely as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. The softness of your lips against his ignited a fire within him, and he instinctively leaned into you, craving more. “This isn’t fair,” he murmured against your lips, the pull between you almost magnetic, trying to pull away but only finding himself drawn closer.

“Why not?” you countered, a sly smile playing on your lips, mischief dancing in your eyes. “You’re the one who looks like you need this the most.”

His cheeks burned at your words, heat pooling low in his stomach as he wrestled with his desire. “But I’m not-”

You cut him off with a sultry grind against him, the sudden friction causing him to gasp, a sharp intake of breath that echoed the conflict raging inside him. “Tell me you want this,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear, your words dripping with seduction. “Tell me you want me.”

Heeseung’s resolve began to crumble under your teasing gaze, but he couldn’t give in that easily. “I want you, Y/N,” he confessed, the sincerity in his voice laced with a defiant edge. “But I want you to know that I’m not just some easy target.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you leaned in closer, lips brushing against his neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses along his skin. “Then let me take care of you, Heeseung. Just let go.”

He hesitated again, squeezing his eyes shut, fighting against the overwhelming sensations threatening to sweep him away. “I don’t know if I can just let go,” he admitted, voice thick with uncertainty, battling with the emotions swirling within him. “What if this is all a mistake?”

“Or,” you said playfully, pressing your lips to his neck, your voice sultry and inviting, “what if it’s the best mistake we ever make?” You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes glinting with mischief and lust. “You’re clearly enjoying this. I can feel how much you want me.”

Heeseung opened his mouth to argue, but the words slipped away as he felt the heat radiating between you. “I do want you, but-”

You cut him off again, leaning in to capture his lips with a hungry kiss, a challenge hanging in the air between you. “Then let me show you just how good it can be.”

Heeseung’s breath quickened, and the way you looked at him made his heart race even faster. “Fine,” he relented, determination lacing his voice as he leaned closer, breath hitching. “But I want to hear you beg for it first.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but the challenge sent a thrill through your body. “Oh really? You think you can turn the tables on me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, confidence returning as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, teasingly intimate. “You want me? Show me how much.”

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, but you weren’t about to back down. “Alright then, Heeseung. I want you, and I want you to know that I’m not afraid to take what I want.”

His gaze darkened with lust, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a smirk playing on his face. “Then let’s see how far you’re willing to go. Beg for it, Y/N. Show me you want this.”

You felt a rush of excitement and defiance at his challenge, but you weren’t one to shy away. “I want you, Heeseung,” you said, your voice dripping with sultriness, “and I want you to give me everything you have.”

“Then let’s make this interesting,” he proposed, his gaze heavy with desire. “You want me to give you everything? Then show me just how much you’re willing to give in return.”

His challenge ignited a fire within you, and you knew you were in for a wild ride. You leaned in, capturing his lips again, this time with more urgency, and Heeseung responded, matching your fervor.

“Y/N,” he breathed between kisses, the air thick with longing. “I want you to know that I’m not going to make this easy for you. I want to see how much you can handle.”

“Bring it on,” you replied, your voice sultry and daring as you pressed your body against his, feeling the heat radiating between you.

As the heat between you surged, you pulled away slightly, your breath mingling in the charged air. Heeseung’s eyes were dark with desire, but beneath that lust, there was a flicker of uncertainty. “Y/N,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, “are you really sure about this?”

You smirked, your gaze intense and unwavering. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Just remember, I’m the one who takes charge.”

“Right,” he replied, a hint of bravado creeping into his tone, but the way his hands fumbled as they reached for you only added to the tension. “So what now?”

“Now,” you said, leaning in closer, letting your lips almost brush against his, “you’re going to show me just how much you want me.” The air crackled with anticipation, your heart racing.

With a burst of confidence, Heeseung grabbed your waist, but in his eagerness, he tugged too hard, sending you both tumbling onto the couch in a tangled mess of limbs. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he hurriedly adjusted them, cheeks flushed with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

“Smooth,” you teased, trying to stifle your laughter as you looked up at him. Heeseung’s expression shifted from flustered to determined as he leaned over you, his body hovering above yours, the heat radiating between you palpable.

“Let’s… try that again,” he said, voice shaky but filled with renewed resolve. His gaze roamed your body, taking in every curve, and you could practically see the fire igniting in him.

“Show me what you’ve got, Heeseung,” you urged, your voice sultry and inviting. His confidence wavered for a moment, but he leaned down, capturing your lips that sent shivers down your spine.

His kiss was a mix of passion and clumsiness, his movements a bit awkward as he tried to deepen the connection. You could feel him hesitate, and that uncertainty only fueled your desire. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be confident,” you teased, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.

“Shut up,” he replied, attempting to sound gruff but failing as a nervous smile broke through. He leaned down again, this time his kisses were more insistent, laced with an intoxicating urgency.

As he pressed his body against yours, you felt the heat between you intensify. “You want this, don’t you?” you murmured, your breath hot against his lips.

“More than anything,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. Just as he leaned in for another kiss, his glasses slipped down again, and he fumbled to adjust them, frustration flickering across his face. “Ugh, why am I such a loser?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound a heady mix of desire and mischief. “It’s part of your charm. Now, stop overthinking it and just kiss me.”

He nodded, visibly calming himself, and leaned in again, this time with a fierce intensity. He pushed his lips against yours, pouring all his eagerness and desire into the kiss, and you melted against him, surrendering to the moment.

Feeling emboldened, you moved your hands to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Heeseung shivered at your touch, his breath hitching as you traced your fingers along the contours of his body.

“God, you’re so warm,” you murmured against his lips, your voice low and sultry. “You want me, huh?”

“I do,” he replied, voice thick with need, and leaned in, his kisses growing more fervent as he lost himself in you. He pressed his body against yours, the heat radiating off him intoxicating.

But just as he was getting lost in the moment, he accidentally bumped his head against your chin again, and both of you burst into laughter. “I swear I’m not this clumsy normally!” he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Who cares?” you replied, your tone dripping with seduction. “Just focus on making me feel good.” You pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his neck as you whispered, “Make me feel good.”

His gaze turned heated, a primal desire flickering in his eyes as he leaned in, kissing a trail down your neck. His lips were warm and soft against your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “Y/N, you feel so good,” he murmured, voice thick with lust.

As he explored your body, you felt him beginning to lose himself in the sensations, the air thick with desire. Just when he seemed to find his rhythm, he accidentally brushed against your thigh with his knee, sending a shiver of excitement through you. “Sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks burning as he tried to regain his composure.

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered, capturing his chin with your fingers and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Just keep going.”

He leaned back in, the mix of confidence and nervousness fueling his desire. “Let me show you what I can do,” he said, voice low and commanding.

With newfound determination, Heeseung kissed a path lower, his lips trailing over your collarbone, hovering just above the swell of your breasts. “Is this okay?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin.

“Yes,” you urged, your heart racing with anticipation. “More. I want more, please seungie”

Encouraged by your response, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the fabric of your shirt, igniting a fire within you. His kisses were urgent now, fueled by the intensity of the moment, and you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened with desire. The air was electric, thick with anticipation. “I want to eat your cunt” he growled, his voice low, the urgency unmistakable.

“Then do it,” you challenged, your voice sultry as you dared him to take control.

Without a word, Heeseung’s hands were on you, firm and eager. His fingers slid under the waistband of your shorts, and with one swift motion, he tugged them down, leaving you exposed before him. He tossed the fabric aside, eyes devouring the sight of you laid bare for him. His breath hitched as he knelt between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs possessively, pulling you closer.

“You’re going to feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with hunger as he leaned in.

With that, Heeseung dove in, his lips pressing against your core. His tongue flicked out, tasting you with the urgency of a man starved. The sensation made your body jolt, and a gasp escaped your lips as he licked you up like he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, you taste incredible,” he breathed, pausing only to glance up at you with an intense gaze, his glasses slipping low on his nose. The sight of him, desperate and determined, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Heeseung's hands tightened on your thighs as he dove back in, licking and sucking with a fervor that made your head spin.

“More, Heeseung,” you moaned, your body trembling under his touch. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Quiet,” he growled, his voice filled with authority as he pulled you closer, burying his face between your legs. “Let me taste you.”

Heeseung’s tongue moved with more confidence now, sliding against you with a precision that left you breathless. He lapped at you eagerly, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with a hunger that made your pulse race.

“Y/N,” he groaned against your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver through your body. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

Heeseung was relentless, his tongue swirling and teasing in all the right places, his mouth claiming you as he drank you in. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, hips rocking against his face as you chased your release.

“Heeseung, yes,” you cried, feeling the tension build inside you, so close to the edge. “Don’t stop, please-”

“Then beg for it,” Heeseung murmured against your pussy, licking up to your clit and circling around it as his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, igniting the fire within you.

“Please, Heeseung,” you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. “I need more. I need your tongue on me.”

A wicked grin spread across his face, and he continued his teasing motions, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. “That’s better,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Keep going.”

You felt a rush of heat flooding your cheeks, but the overwhelming pleasure drowned out any embarrassment. “Ngh~ please,” you pleaded, hips rocking instinctively against his mouth. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

With each lick and gentle suck, Heeseung was relentless, pushing you closer to the brink. “I want to hear you say it,” he coaxed, his breath hot against you.

“Please, Heeseung,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer. “I want to come. Make me come, please.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, diving back in with intensity, his tongue working magic as he teased you relentlessly. The tension inside you coiled tighter, ready to snap as he continued his lewd actions.

With a low growl, Heeseung sucked harder, his tongue pushing you to the brink. “Come for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with lust. “I want to taste you.”

With one final flick of his tongue, the pressure snapped, and you came undone, crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you. Heeseung kept his mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release, his eyes locked on yours, filled with raw desire and satisfaction.

When you finally collapsed back, trembling and breathless, Heeseung pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips curling into a cocky grin. “That was even better than I imagined,” he said, his voice dark and dripping with pride. “You taste fucking amazing.”

As you caught your breath, Heeseung’s gaze locked onto yours, the heat between you still simmering, charged with the energy of your earlier exploration. The grin on his face was a tantalizing mix of satisfaction and insatiable hunger, his glasses slightly fogged from the heat of the moment, giving him an adorably flustered look that only heightened your desire.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, his voice low and husky, leaning closer until your foreheads touched, sharing the same intoxicating warmth.

You smiled, emboldened by his praise, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your voice dripping with sultriness as you leaned in to capture his lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his mouth, mingling with the sweet flavor of desire, and you deepened the kiss, pouring all your pent-up passion into it. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, igniting an unquenchable fire within you.

Heeseung responded instantly, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss was intoxicating, a heady mix of urgency and longing, as if you both were trying to consume each other entirely. His tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing and exploring, igniting a blaze deep within you that made your body ache for more.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with need and a look of pure love that made your heart race. “I want you.”

“Then take me,” you urged, your voice sultry and low, your heart racing at the prospect. “I’m all yours.”

His expression shifted to one of determination as he captured your lips again, kissing you with a raw intensity that left you breathless, your senses heightened. He pushed you back against the couch, his hands roaming your body with feverish need, exploring every curve, every contour. You could feel his heart pounding against you, a reminder of the electricity crackling between you.

Heeseung's hands slid down your body, grasping your thighs and lifting them to wrap around his waist. “I’ve thought about this,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin, sending goosebumps cascading across your body. “Thought about how you’d feel wrapped around me.”

“Then let’s make it happen,” you urged, your voice thick with lust as you ground against him, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. The sheer weight of his cock sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. Who knew a nerd like him could possess such size? A flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind, would he even fit inside you?

With a swift movement, Heeseung adjusted your bodies, positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, looking deep into your eyes, searching for any hesitation. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, breathless, your body aching for him. “I want this, Heeseung. I need you.”

His lips curled into a smirk, a mixture of pride and mischief in his gaze. “Good,” he said, his voice a sultry whisper, before thrusting into you with one powerful movement. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you perfectly as you gasped at the intensity, your body arching into him instinctively.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice low and raspy, filled with unfiltered desire. The sheer size of him filled you up in ways you hadn’t imagined, igniting a fire within you that drove you wild. You could feel the distinct bulge of his cock in your stomach, a constant reminder of just how much he had to offer. Heeseung had spent countless hours lost in wet dreams and endless scrolls through porn sites, but nothing could compare to this- a real connection, real pleasure that felt as if it was lifting you to new heights.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as he continued to thrust, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His cock stretched you to your limits, filling you completely and making you feel utterly owned.

“Yeah? You like that?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at where you were connected, watching the way his cock disappeared inside you. “You’re taking me so well.”

The weight of his cock stretching you made you feel desperate, a primal urge to be filled completely. “More,” you breathed, your body begging for him to give you everything he had. You could feel your body tightening around him, urging him on, craving his every thrust.

Heeseung’s expression shifted to one of pure determination as he picked up the pace. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, each thrust pushing you deeper into bliss. “You’re so perfect for me, Y/N,” he murmured, voice thick with lust and admiration. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Then don’t stop,” you cried out, feeling the heat coiling in your core. “I’m so close.”

In a moment of playful mischief, you reached up and adjusted his foggy glasses, clearing his view just as his eyes widened in shock and lust. The sight of you, glistening with desire and slightly breathless, made his breath hitch. With a feral growl, he thrust harder, his need intensifying as he chased your shared pleasure.

“Me too,” he groaned, pushing harder, chasing his own release. With every thrust, he buried himself deeper, the overwhelming sensation of his size driving you both closer to the edge, the bulge in your stomach becoming more pronounced with each powerful movement.

With one final powerful thrust, he hit that sweet spot, and the pleasure consumed you both, washing over you like a tidal wave. You felt the tension in your body peak, and as you cried out his name, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

“Y/N!” he shouted, feeling you tighten around him, and with one final thrust, he spilled into you, warmth flooding your core as he filled you completely. You could feel the delicious warmth of his release spreading inside you, a sensation that sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The way his cock pulsed inside you made you feel completely full, satisfied in every sense.

You both fell into a panting mess, bodies entwined, the world outside fading away. Heeseung collapsed beside you, breathless but with a satisfied smile playing on his lips, his glasses slightly askew and still fogged from the intensity of your connection.

“Fuck,” he murmured, turning to look at you, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “That was… amazing.”

You grinned back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the connection you’d just forged. “Yeah, it really was. And I didn’t know you were this big.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of pride shining through his eyes, still full of love and admiration. “Guess I have some advantages.”

You laughed, feeling your heart swell at the moment shared between you, an intimate secret you would carry together. “Definitely an advantage.”

As you both began to come down from the high of your shared ecstasy, Heeseung pulled you close, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, a steady reminder of the intensity you had just shared. Your heart felt giddy as you looked at him, his hair tousled and his glasses almost fogged up again from the heat of the moment.

“Let’s clean up before Jungwon gets here,” Heeseung suggested, his voice still slightly breathless but laced with affection as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

You nodded, smiling softly as you helped him untangle yourselves from each other, the lingering warmth of his body still radiating against yours. Adjusting your clothes, you felt a mix of giddiness and satisfaction at the shared intimacy.

Unbeknownst to you both, Jungwon had arrived just moments earlier. He stood just outside the door, the sound of loud moans and passionate cries echoing through the hallway. His face flushed a deep crimson as the realization of what he was hearing hit him like a wave. He blinked in disbelief, blood pulsing to his cock as he listened to his best friend finally manage to fuck.

“Lucky idiot,” he muttered under his breath, a mix of envy and amusement swirling within him. Shaking his head, he turned away from the door, his mind racing with thoughts and images he couldn’t shake. With a silent, careful motion, he closed the door, trying to ignore the lingering sounds of pleasure that filled the air.

As he walked up to his room, Jungwon knew he’d definitely be taking care of himself tonight, the vivid sounds of your shared bliss echoing in his mind as he settled in for a long, private session of his own.

#aik’s thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwon hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung imagines

1K notes · View notes

ellecdc · 4 months ago

Note

hii!! i rlly like your writing and was wondering if you could do a request ? remus (or wolfstar ) x reader where its like posthogwarts and she went to a diff wizarding school and the wizard thing was hush hush cuz she was a muggle, but then one day she like accidentally uses magic and they were like “ omg wait what” and like yeah. anyways pls feel free to ignore this its a very odd request LMAO. thank you so so much for taking the time to read this !!! (im sorry if this sounds weird i dk how to talk to ppl) ok bye 🫶

this was a very cute prompt! thank you so much for your request and your patience in my writing it!

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader who they believe to be a muggle [1.8k words]

CW: fear of werewolf prejudice, fear of muggle born prejudice, I also included a line in French and you can find the translation at the bottom of the work

Sirius knew that they were, perhaps, being a little bit selfish by keeping such a big secret from you.

Statute of Secrecy be damned, they were well beyond the point in your relationship where they could have (and likely should have) told you that he and Remus were wizards (oh, and, while we’re at it, Remus turns into a beast once a month so there’s that, too).

And while their friends all suspected it was Remus who was hesitant to tell you the truth on account of his lycanthropy, it had actually been Sirius who kept procrastinating the long overdue conversation.

But Sirius had to admit that he was very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he wasn’t willing to muck it up by scaring you off. How many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

Sirius had already met Remus which felt like nothing short of destiny, and then they met you, and that felt prophetic. And who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy?

“You cannot chicken out tonight.” Remus muttered as Sirius rapped on your door, earning him an indignant scoff from his boyfriend.

“I’ve never once chickened out in my entire life, thank you very much. That’s why I was sorted into Gryffindor.”

Remus merely snorted. “Sure, that’s why this is our seventh attempt at breaking the news, yeah?”

Sirius refused to look at Remus before banging (slightly louder) on your door once more before you finally opened up.

Gods you were so bloody beautiful; smiling like you couldn’t physically be any happier that your two boys were here, eyes excited and bright and so full of love and fuck sakes he couldn’t do it.

“Hey dove.” Remus greeted for the both of them, seeing as Sirius’ brain was short circuiting on account of your beauty and loveliness, pressing a kiss to your hairline and all but shoving Sirius past the threshold of your door. “It smells amazing, what are you making?”

Your smile seemed to grow impossibly brighter at the praise. “A vegetable bake! It’s sort of Mediterranean, and I’m making pasta to go with it.” You explained excitedly, and Sirius honestly felt like he was going to start overflowing with the amount of fondness he had for you.

“You going to say hello to our girl, Siri? Or are you just going to keep staring at her?” Remus taunted as he walked further into your flat to place the flowers he was carrying for you in a vase - the routine of bringing you bouquets every time they visited so practised that he knew where to find your vases.

“Of course, gorgeous. Sorry for being rude.” He murmured as he pulled you into his chest and breathed you in. “You’ve got to stop answering the door looking so bloody beautiful; I completely forget myself.”

You giggled into his chest and then leaned on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips that he - the selfish bastard - didn’t find nearly enough before he pulled you into a second deeper, lingering kiss.

“It’s good to see you, Sirius.”

Sirius sighed happily - because really, it was even better to see you - as he shuffled the two of you towards the kitchen Remus was now fussing in.

“Beautiful!” You cheered as Remus positioned the bouquet in the middle of your kitchen island; and Sirius could see the mischief in Remus’ eyes even if you couldn’t.

“Just like you, dove.”

And, quite possibly one of their favourite sights, they watched you turn bashful as you opted to fuss with the arrangement instead of looking at either of them.

“Listen, sweetheart, we were wondering if perhaps before we eat, we could chat with you about something?” Remus decided to rip the bandaid, and Sirius wanted to hex him for the way your body tensed and you looked at him with what appeared to be mild horror.

“Oh- uhm, okay, yeah, sure that’s… that’s fine.” You stuttered as you moved to the kitchen table to take a seat, both boys following obediently.

Sirius watched as Remus moved last week's bouquet - which Sirius had secretly cast a stasis charm over so that they would last longer - out of the centre of the table and closer to Sirius so that they could both have a better view of you.

“Is…everything okay?” You asked cautiously as you fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. Sirius wanted to throw up.

“Of course, dovey.” Remus assured you, though it was Sirius’ thigh he gave a comforting squeeze under the table. “We just know that we’ve been seeing each other for a while now, and we’ve grown to care about you quite a lot- you know that, right?”

Sirius watched as the divot between your brows only deepened as you nodded hesitantly. “So much, gorgeous; we care about you so much.” He insisted when it didn’t look like you truly believed them.

“But we just, well, we haven’t been completely honest with you, is all. And now that we’re at this point in our relationship, we…we feel like we owe it to you to be honest.” Remus continued, clearly beginning to feel just as out of his depth as Sirius was.

Your face fell completely blank, though Sirius could tell you were still tugging nervously at your shirt sleeve.

“Baby, I swear this isn’t bad, we- I rather think I’m in love with you, and-”

But as Sirius went to reach his hand over to rub at your arm in a way he hoped to be comforting, he ended up knocking over the vase stationed in front of him.

It didn’t break, thank Merlin, but it did topple over before Sirius could catch it and the water poured over the table.

Remus went to stand quickly to avoid being soaked, but no sooner had he pushed his chair away from the table was the vase floating towards you and the water completely vanished.

Not looking at the boys in front of you, you righted the vase and repositioned the florals to your liking before looking up at Remus who was now standing and staring at you owlishly, and Sirius who was gaping at you from his seat.

“Did you just-” Sirius started, voice no more than a whisper, but was quickly cut off by the sound of a timer in the kitchen.

You waved your hand in that direction mindlessly before sinking back despondently in your chair and staring down at your lap, the timer silent.

“Y/N.” Remus rasped. “Did- was that…are you a witch?”

You appeared to flinch as if you’d just realised what you’d done before you looked up; all colour seemingly draining from your face.

“What? I-” You started with a nervous chuckle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about? There’s no such thing as witches…”

But Sirius knew what he saw, the first could have been an accident - a trick of the mind - but the second act of magic was all the confirmation he needed.

Silently, Remus summoned the vase of flowers towards him before charming them to dance to imaginary music, plucking one from its stem and turning it gold before reaching across the table to put it behind your ear as you gaped at him.

“You’re…a wizard?” You whispered in disbelief.

At that, Sirius stood and spun, turning into Padfoot and panting excitedly at your feet as his tail whacked against the table leg with every wag.

A wet laugh escaped you before either boy realised you were wiping your eyes.

“Oh my gods?”

“Awe, dovey.” Remus cooed as he moved over to Sirius’ chair so he could take your hands in his. “Don’t cry.”

“Is this what you guys were going to tell me?” You asked cautiously, hopefully.

Padfoot melted back into Sirius, but he stayed kneeling at your feet as he rubbed soothing stripes up and down your calf. “Yes, baby; this was it.” He assured you. “I’m sorry we scared you.”

“So, that boarding school you went to in France?” Remus asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Beauxbatons.” You confirmed with a nod of your head. “And your boarding school in Scotland?”

“Hogwarts.” The two boys chorused, and you all let out a chuckle.

“It’s almost embarrassing that didn’t give it away right there.” You laughed breathlessly.

“Since we’re, uh, being honest about stuff…” Remus continued, trailing off awkwardly as he shared a grimace with Sirius. “I’m also, well, I’m also a werewolf.”

“Oh.” You breathed quietly.

Sirius held his breath as he watched you consider this before you nodded your head decisively.

“I’m muggleborn.”

Sirius and Remus shared a quick look before Remus let out a disbelieving chuckle. “Is that- …what?”

“Baby, are you trading that information like we might think that’s a negative?” Sirius teased you lightly.

“I suppose it depends on who you ask…” You whispered, and both boys softened.

“Not us, dove.” Remus offered. “Good.” You smiled at him. “Then me too.”

“Is that really how you feel about it? About me?” Remus asked quietly.

“No, it’s not how I feel about you.” You denied. “J'ai l'impression de tomber très amoureux de toi.” You admitted shyly, and Sirius couldn’t be held responsible for the mortifying cooing sound that resonated from the back of his throat.

He grabbed your face roughly and started peppering you with kisses: “how”, a kiss, “did we”, a kiss, “manage to find”, another kiss, “the most brilliant and beautiful witch”, kiss kiss kiss, “in the whole world?”

You were giggling and trying - not very hard, mind you - to pull away from Sirius’ ministrations when you stilled and let out a gasp.

“What?” Both boys paused.

“Supper!” You nearly shrieked as you went flying into the kitchen, muttering to yourself in French as you turned off the stove top and fussed with various pots and dishes.

“I am so unbelievably in love with her.” Remus murmured, eyes glued to your form as you danced through the kitchen.

Sirius scoffed as he leaned against his boyfriend with his arms crossed, feigning nonchalance. “I can’t believe you were so scared to tell her.”

Sirius didn’t need to look at Remus to know he was glaring at him; he could feel it.

But he also felt his heart grow three sizes when you turned to look at both of them with a beaming smile and a steaming dish in front of you, completely unphased that one of your boyfriends was a werewolf even though as a witch you knew exactly what that meant. And not only were you unphased, but you were still falling in love with them regardless.

Sirius had admittedly been very scared to tempt fate, because meeting you had been a complete fluke and he didn’t want to muck it up by scaring you off. Because really, how many times in one life did someone get the chance to meet a perfect angel?

If meeting Remus had been destiny, meeting you was prophetic; and who was Sirius to mess with the prophecy?

(translation: I feel like I’m very much falling in love with you).

1K notes · View notes

reidsbabyhoney · 3 months ago

Text

opposite | s.r.

the one where spencer has a new girlfriend, and she couldn't be more different than you.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff during the flashback but mainly angst cw: spencer not using his 187 IQ, reader feeling like their not enough, self deprecating thoughts. wc: 3.3k a/n: thought a great way to start my spencer masterlist was with angst! no I'm kidding, I was listening to 'opposite' by sabrina carpenter and felt very inspired, will probably make a part two where they have a happier ending (pls don't yell at me for this) I imagine season 6 Spencer for this, but you can imagine him however you want. this post is long overdue, I hope you love it! (also its not proof read at all so i'm sorry in advanced)

masterlist spencer masterlist

Falling for your coworker was probably the worst thing you could have done, especially when that coworker is Dr. Spencer Reid.

You had a crush on the resident genius since you had joined the team a year after Spencer.

In your mind, there were two scenarios that would happen in the case that he did find out about your infatuation with him.

Either you told him you were in love with him, he rejects you and you have to live with the embarrassment seeing him everyday at work, or you tell him you're in love with him, you start dating and the relationship doesn't work out, living with a Dr. Reid shaped hole in your heart. So you lose either way.

About a year and a half ago you finally decided to tell Spencer how you felt about him. A result of one too many drinks at a bar you were both dragged to.

"You know you look really pretty under this lighting Spence," you say, clearly affected by the alcohol in your system.

A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead, a few stray hairs sticking to his face. He was flushed from the few glasses of alcohol he had consumed that night, but regardless, you thought he never looked prettier. Though, that might be the alcohol you consumed talking.

Spencer's cheeks redden a bit from the compliment, his brain working in overdrive to figure out how to respond to your compliment.

"Ah, um, thanks, you always look beautiful y/n," he says, a bit shy with his words.

You blush at his words, looking down towards the glass in your hand.

"It's a bit loud in here, do you want to go outside?" he asks, a bit of hesitation in his voice.

"Well I was just about to leave, will you walk me out?"

"Of course," he quickly responds.

"Okay, let me just grab my purse," you say, putting the glass down on the table behind you.

You grab all of your things, quickly letting the team know you're both leaving so they don't worry.

As you make your way around the bar to say goodbye, the girls give you suggestive glances, and you just shake your head and laugh at their antics.

After saying your goodbyes, you both make your way outside.

Standing right outside the door to the small bar, you shiver as the cold air nips at your skin.

You hear Spencer shuffling next to you, and suddenly he's handing you the cardigan he was wearing.

You're about to respond saying that he'll get cold, but he quickly shuts you up.

"No, no, take it. Between 700 and 1,500 people die from hypothermia in the United States annually. Though you might not think it's not that cold for you to get hypothermia here, it can occur in temperatures above 40°F if someone is chilled from rain, sweat, or cold water. I also just really don't want you to be cold," he finishes his sentence by putting the cardigan in your hands, not letting you say no.

"Thank you Spence, I just don't want you to possibly get hypothermia either," you say with a small laugh.

"Well that's a good concern to have, because men are 9-10 times more likely to get and die from hypothermia. This is because men are more likely to be exposed to the necessary conditions to contract hypothermia, so, I-sorry I'm rambling aren't?" he says, his cheeks turning to a deep shade of red once he realizes that the information continues to spill from his lips.

"No don't worry, I like listening, I always do," you say, a blush of your own covering your cheeks at the confession.

"Yeah, I've noticed, you're really the only one who pays attention to my rambles when were on the plane, or anywhere for that matter," he says, now noticing how the moonlight glows against your skin.

"I've always found it really interesting and kind of attractive that you just have all of this information stored in your head," you say looking up to the stars that littered the sky, completely oblivious to the effect your words had on the genius.

"Attractive? I didn't think you'd ever use that word to describe me," he's a bit stunned at your sentence, because no way the girl he's had a crush on since he laid eyes on her is telling him this.

"Well you don't get the nickname Pretty Boy from just anywhere do you," you say, a teasing smile falling across your lips.

There's a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you after that. Though that doesn't last long.

"Y'know I've had the biggest crush on you since I met you four years ago, I just never thought you felt the same," realizing what you just said, your eyes widened and you quickly turned towards Spencer, about to take back everything you just drunkenly confessed.

"y/n that's not something funny to joke about," he says, completely serious.

"I, no, I'm being serious. I've had the biggest crush in you since I joined the team. I'm pretty sure everyone but you knows, or well that used to be the case."

And just like that the biggest secret that's been resting on your shoulders for the past four years fell from your lips.

"Are you being serious right now?" he asks, as if he truly couldn't believe the words coming from your mouth.

"Spence, you can just reject me, you know. You don't have to play dumb."

Embarrassment wraps around your words, clearly upset that it seems that Spencer is trying to let you down easily.

"y/n, no. I-I like you too. I have for the longest time. If anything, I thought you were the one that wasn't going to feel the same if I'm honest," he says with an awkward smile covering his lips.

"You're serious?"

"Of course I am, I've had the most absurd crush on you since your first day you joined," his blushes a bit at the memory, "I'm surprised you never caught on."

You look down at your shoes, the alcohol seemingly left your body and now you're unsure about how to respond to him. You're about to speak when he interrupts you.

"I, um, I have to go soon, the last train is going to leave in about 27 minutes, but I was wondering if would you want to get coffee with me sometime?" he painfully stutters through his sentence, but you find it endearing, knowing its not due to the cool air outside.

"I would really love that Spence, yeah."

Leaning up to plant a shy kiss on his cheek, you say your goodbyes and make your way to you car to drive home.

Turning back for a second, you see Spencer with his hand on the spot that you gave him a kiss. Almost touching it to keep the warmth there to ensure that it truly happened.

The entire car ride home was bliss, you couldn't believe you told Spencer how you felt, and he actually shared those feelings.

Once you arrive home you realize you never gave Spencer his cardigan back. Wrapping it around yourself a bit tighter, you take your phone out of your pocket, feeling the buzz of a text notification.

From: Spence

Hi y/n! It's Spencer, I just got home. Please let me know when you're home so I know you made it back safe. I'll see you at work on Monday :)

Your face splits into a smile that nearly hurts your cheeks. Realizing you are home, you send him a quick message before getting ready for bed.

To: Spence

Hi Spence, I just got home, thanks for checking up on me. I'll see you at work on Monday, sweet dreams. ♥️

You shake your head at the memories. Looking up from the book in your hand, you spot the exact cardigan Spencer gave you that night across the arm of the couch, almost taunting you.

The year you were together was a dream you never thought would come true. You really thought your nightmare of Spencer deciding you weren't good enough and breaking up with you was never going to happen.

Though life isn't all fairy tales.

The job got to you, as people said it would. You both grew stressed and agitated. There never seemed to be enough time in the day, hell in a week, for you two to find time to spend together.

Even though you worked together, you rarely found time to actually separate your relationship from work.

The day you both realized that was the day you mutually came to the decision that it was best if you stayed friends. Or whatever word is used to describe still working with the person that you were the most vulnerable with and knew you inside and out, better than anyone else in the world.

The breakup happened six months ago. It wasn't messy or anything of the sorts, but it definitely created a drift in your relationship with the genius. Everyone in the office could tell, and you both knew that the relationship you shared before you started dating would never return.

Now, months after the breakup you were trying to become the person you used to be before Spencer. Though that seemed like an impossible task. You didn't realize how much of an effect he had on you until he wasn't there anymore.

It was the first Friday that the team wasn't completely swamped in work, so naturally Rossi invited you all to his mansion for one of his infamous pasta nights.

Declaring that we needed to spend time with people other than each other, he also extended the invitation to anyone the team felt like bringing along.

Wrapping your coat around you tighter, almost as a safety blanket, you knock on the door. You're sure not even a second goes by before you’re met with the face of Emily. Though she looks a bit distressed, like the evening has started out disastrous already.

"What's up with the face? Did Pen interrupt while Rossi was explaining how to perfectly cook pasta again?"

Letting out a small laugh at your own joke, you look up at Emily's face and realize something must be seriously wrong if she didn't even fake a smile at the lame joke.

"We need to talk," she says, grabbing your arm and dragging you into the house. You walk off into a hallway where both JJ and Penelope are waiting for you.

"Woah, what's wrong? Why are we having some kind of intervention?"

Looking at the both blondes, they keep their lips shut and look towards Emily, practically begging her to break the news to you.

Your voice is small, barely above a whisper when you say Emily's name, worried for what she's about to tell you. Taking a shaky breath, she finally speaks.

"Spencer brought his girlfriend."

As the words came from Emily's mouth you basically felt your entire world collapse around you.

He was dating someone? The same Spencer, who was nervous to even talk to a woman before you started dating, was dating someone else? Just after six months of being broken up he found someone else?

"Emily, please tell me you're joking or I might throw up on Rossi's floor right here," you say, completely serious, feeling your lunch already making its way out of your stomach.

The three of you hear footsteps coming your way and you start praying that it's not the person you want to see least right now.

Mystery person clears their throat and you're met with the face of a concerned looking Derek Morgan. Once he spots the tears in your eyes he opens his arms to give you a hug.

"Oh princess, I'm so sorry," he sighs, rubbing your back affectionately.

"I'll go knock some sense into him if you really want me to."

That gets a small laugh from you, but you quickly shake your head and step out of Derek's arms.

"No," you breath in a shaky breath before saying, "it's okay, seriously. He deserves to move on."

Knowing the words leaving your mouth are a complete lie, the tears return to your eyes and JJ is quick to take Derek's place and bring you into her embrace.

"Oh sweetheart, it's okay, we can stay here for as long as you want okay? Or we could even leave and pretend like you never came in the first place."

Attempting to take a deep breath, you give her a final squeeze and leave her arms.

"No, I'll be fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle my ex having a new girlfriend."

They four of them share a weary glance, knowing those words are the furthest thing from the truth.

Penelope is the first to speak as she grabs your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. "Let's do this angel face."

With that the two of you walk hand in hand to the backyard, greeted with the faces of the rest of your team and their families.

Walking over to the tree where Rossi and Hotch are standing, seemingly deep in conversation, Penelope makes her presence known when she lets out a happy squeal seeing her margarita glass was magically refilled.

"Well, I'll leave you in the hands of the host my love, I see a margarita calling my name," she plants a quick kiss on your cheek before making her way to the table her drink was sitting on.

Knowing that was just Penelope's way of making things a bit more normal for you, you shake your head and laugh at her antics.

Finally turning towards the two men, you see the pity in their eyes and let out a disappointed sigh.

"Seriously, you guys too? If all of you keep looking at me like that he'll definitely know something is wrong and will realize I'm the crazy one for not being over him yet."

Once you finish your sentence Hotch moves to say something but quickly shuts his mouth. His eyes are fixed just right over your shoulder.

Shifting to see what -or better yet who- he was looking at, you turn and find the new couple sitting on the bench near the opposite side of the yard. Your eyes fix on the woman sitting next to Spencer and you’re met with a woman with striking features. As you looked at her closer, you began to realize she looked nothing like you. In fact, she was the complete opposite of you.

Is that what Spencer was looking for this whole time? Did he want you to be more like her? Was he holding out with you just to find someone better?

These thoughts continued to swirl through your mind for the rest of the night. The team was obviously trying to distract you and make you feel better about the whole situation, acting as if it wasn't happening. JJ even asked you to watch Henry for a bit even though neither her nor Will were busy.

Finally the moment you were dreading had arrived, dinner.

Rossi, one for tradition, had a massive dining room table that somehow fit the entire team plus the extra guests.

Opting to sit in between JJ and Emily, you hoped that you could stay quiet all of dinner and quickly leave once it was finished. Really you hoped you didn't have to see Spencer and his girlfriend any longer than you had to.

But your luck seemed to have run out because she took the seat directly across from you, causing Spencer to sit next to her, directly across from Emily.

Looking down at your food you try to ignore them as best as you could, that was until you heard her voice.

"Hi, you must be y/n. I'm Maya, Spencer's girlfriend."

Her voice reaches your ears like nails on a chalkboard and you try your hardest to not physically react to her high pitched voice. God, what was Spencer doing?

Though you quickly rid yourself of the distaste you already have for her and give her your best fake smile.

"Yes, I'm y/n. It's…nice to meet you."

It's almost like the entire table was holding their breath to see what your response would be. Morgan nearly chokes on his drink as you pause to find the words to describe your feelings for meeting her.

The silence continues until Spencer clears his throat. At the sound you look up at him. You realize that was the worst thing you could have done when he doesn't even look at you. Instead he's looking at Maya with the expression you thought was only reserved for you.

Emily is the first to speak after the interaction, some reason directing the conversation towards the couple. Did she just want to see you suffer tonight?

"So Reid, how long have you two been dating?"

Though the question is directed at Spencer, Maya is the one to answer. "Oh me and Spencie? We've been together just over a month!"

She basically screeches the words and you have to hold yourself back from rolling your eyes.

The table goes quiet again. No one has anything to say, quietly eating their food.

"Hey Uncle Spence, when are you and Auntie y/n/n going to be like that again? I remember you used to hold her hand and give her kisses all the time!"

Oh God. Poor Henry didn't know what he just caused. You nearly spit out your drink at his questions, coughing down the wine you basically inhaled.

JJ's eyes widen, going to apologize for Henry's words until Miss chalkboard decides to speak again, except this time it's her awful laugh that makes an appearance.

"Oh my goodness! That is such a funny joke, little Henry. Kids and their imaginations, am I right?"

Her eyes dance around the table waiting for anyone to respond to her. When no one does she continues with a delighted smile on her face.

"Don't worry y/n, there's no need to say anything about that. I know my Spencie, he would never go for someone like you."

As she finished her sentence the entire table grew silent. The profilers actively deciding if they could get away with the thing they put people in prison for.

Your chair is what breaks the silence this time, screeching against Rossi's wood floors.

"Well I really wish I was a good liar and could say it was nice meeting you but I'm not. I hope you and your Spencie have a wonderful relationship."

For the first time all night Spencer finally talks to you. Though it breaks your heart even further. And it's not the words that come from his mouth, but rather the way he says it. All he says is your name, though he speaks as if he's disgusted that you would say something like that.

Letting out a dry laugh you shake your head and click your tongue, hoping he doesn't see the tears in your eyes when you lock eyes with him.

"I'm so glad to know that our year together meant nothing to you Spencer," you say, turning and leaving the room.

You make your way through the hall to collect your things before leaving. You don't even bother with saying bye to everyone, hoping they would understand.

Closing the door to the coat closet you see JJ standing behind the door, looking at you with eyes full of worry.

"y/n/n, are you okay. Both of them were so out of line, and I'm so sorry about Henry I didn't-"

You effectively cut off her short lived rant by giving her a short hug, knowing if you were in her arms for any longer you would be a crying mess before you even stepped foot out of the house.

"It's fine Jayge, really, you didn't know I don't blame you. And I'm fine. I just really need to go."

With that, you finally make your way out of the house and into your car.

There's only one thought that consumes your mind the entire drive home.

He was just holding out to find the opposite.

likes, comments, and shares are always appreciated!! loving you always xx

tags: @clairoscharm @agent-nobody-knows

#reidsbabyhoney #my fics #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #fic recs #spencer reid fluff #this is so over due pls don’t kill me i hope you enjoy it!!#bau!reader

402 notes · View notes

lost-leopard-beanie · 9 months ago

Text

‎ ⁎ ‎ ‎ 𓍼 ‎ ‎ ๋ ‎ ◜ &.&. RIKI BF TEXT SCENARIOS◞ ‎ ... ‎ ‎

˒ pairing! riki × reader

˒ note! hello long time no see!! this was long overdue and tbh idk how I feel so lmk how you felt but im kinda in the mood for writing (surprise surprise) so send me some recs rn (can't promise it'll get posted soon cuz school 😍) but anyways again, please don't forget to reblog and give me feedback instead of liking!

˒ taglist (perm)! @tinyelfperson @stealanity lmk if you wanna be on my permanent or just my enha taglist! (please anybody send an ask to be on the taglist im on my flop era guys pls im begging 🙇‍♀️)

˒ note (2)! also, we hit 400 followers here what the hell 🥹🥹... if you guys want me to something for it then please let me know im open to any suggestions 🥺🫶🏻

912 notes · View notes

plasticferal · 1 year ago

Note

i need matt shower sex, pls help a girlie out🙏🙏 also ur smut always eats so thank u

wet already | matt sturniolo.

authors note: thank you so much for requesting and your kind words i’ll cry. i hope you enjoy! it's short and sweet, kinda slutty kinda fluffy.

warnings: dom!matt, fem!reader, explicit language, light degrading but nothing crazy, self pleasure, unprotected sex and cream pie. reader discretion advised.

you rarely got the house to yourself. it was never quiet, or empty for that fact. all the times you crave to have matt is such an inconvenient time. he's either busy, or with his brothers.

it was long overdue for you to treat yourself. so finally having some alone time, you light a scented candle, let the bathroom room steam up with the hot rush of the shower water and strip off your clothes.

you close your eyes, envisioning matt. his hands roaming your naked, wet, body. his soft skin. his beard, a smirk on his face. instinctively you reach for the shower head, switching the water pressure and cooling the temperature, slowly bringing it between your thighs. being so consumed by the water hugging your body, and the music you starting playing, you don't hear matt's keys collide with the front door.

"y/n, baby?" you think you hear his voice, but the feeling of the strong, rushing water attacking your cunt has your knees buckling and grabbing at the tiled wall of the shower.

the water ripples on your clit and you envision matt's tongue between your legs, making you clench your core and hunch over, gasping for air. your eyes are clenched shut, flash backs being fuel to your euphoria. you let out a loud, shameless moan. you open your eyes mindlessly, and gasp at the sight of matt leaning against the door frame opposite of where you stand in the shower.

"fuck, matt" you sigh, pulling the shower head away.

“no, please. don’t stop on my account,” he raises his arms to either of his head with a bounce of his shoulders, and fixates his eyes on you.

"i didn't even hear you," you lower the shower head, feeling an instant flush of heat and your heart skip a beat.

"yeah but i think the whole neighbourhood can hear you," he has a smirk on his face, and his heavy eyes darken.

you feel like covering yourself from him, despite how many times he's seen you naked. he steps closer to the glass door, and starts sliding his white muscle tank over his head. it messes with his hair, letting it falling over his face.

"the boys didn't hear me, did they?" you follow his actions with your eyes, your feelings of serenity being overwhelmed with tension.

"they're not home," he brings his hands to his belt, and you hear the crisp sound of metal clinking as he undoes it. you swallow the lump in your throat as he pulls open the glass door and kicks off his shoes, passing them to the side.

you feel instantly relieved, shifting all of your focus on matt undressing. the moment he grabs at the hem of his boxers and shoves them down, stepping out of them, your mouth opens a jar, taking a deep breath in.

"so we can be as loud as we want." his strained voice is so much more clear the moment he steps into the confined space, facing you.

the water falling from above trickles over his face, and he spits it out when it travels down to his mouth. the look of his skin speckled with water drops that shine in the dimly lit room like diamonds has you speechless. he towers over you, and you're staring at him with anticipation. he grabs the shower head from your hand, yanking you toward his body.

"won't be needing this,” his tone sounds frustrated, but his words are somewhat sweet. there's always a bite to his tone when he's horny.

his hand reaches up and moves wet strands of your hair from your eyes, before he snakes his fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you forward. your breath shutters and your lips inch up toward him, begging for contact.

"couldn’t wait for me to get home, huh?" he grins at your sudden silence, loss for words more like it.

the closer he pulls you the more you feel his cock brush your thigh, and you reach between his legs and gently wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly. he sucks sharply through his teeth, looking down and jutting his hips forward into your palm.

he pushes your hand away from his dick and shakes his head in disapproval, and you groan at his self control. by self control you mean control. you already feel tonight is gonna be a 'what he says goes' kind of night.

"be good for me and turn around,” you sigh at his demand, abiding anyway.

you hear a plastic bottle pop open, the smell of your body wash filling the room and followed by the most surreal feeling of matt’s fingers massaging your shoulder blades.

"feel okay, baby?" his voice hovers over your ear, and you lean into his wet, warm chest.

he rubs his hands slowly over your biceps, dancing down your lower arms, massaging your neck and kneading his thumbs into your back. he's firm, but gentle. your eyes close and your shoulders drop their tension, giving into his touch completely.

“i like this,” you hum, feeling his mouth press a kiss onto your neck.

“rinse,” he speaks, stepping back to let you run yourself fully under the water. he adjusts the pressure, and temperature. as you’re washing the suds off your body, matt’s hands find themselves on your waist from behind, giving a squeeze.

“good girl,” he reaches around your body and trails his fingers down your stomach, his palm caressing every inch of the front of your body before he cups your heat.

you lean against him, wrapping a hand behind your head and reaching for his hair. his touch on your already throbbing clit has your knees weakening.

“matty,” you whine. he gives a small close mouthed moan into your ear, bucking his hips and semi-hard cock between your bare ass cheeks, just letting it rest against your skin.

with his left hand, he reaches up and cups your breast, squeezing hard. his thumb circles your nipple and his mouth peppers on your shoulders and neck. he leaves small bites as he stimulates your breasts and right hand between your leg taps your clit.

“you’re gonna take it from behind, aren’t you baby?” he nibbles at your earlobe.

“y-yes, please, anything,” you’re trying to grind into his palm, begging for more friction.

he presses you hard against the glass, your breasts making marks into the fog that turns the transparency clear. he bear claws your neck and forces your face against the glass too. he uses his free hand and yanks your hips backward so you’re entire body is stretched out, bent over and ass exposed fully for him.

“couldn’t fucking wait for me,” he talks to himself, repeating his earlier statement.

you hear the slushing sound of water and he strokes his own cock. the very faint reflection of him in the mirror ahead as his arm muscles tense with each rough and fast stroke.

“m’sorry, baby,” you beg for forgiveness. he pushes your face further into the glass and your hand prints slam against it, making a thud as the panel shakes.

knowing as much as he loves the sight of you making yourself quiver, it makes him feel like he needs to prove himself better. his touch will always better than a shower head, but you let him show you.

his hand dives in between your thighs from behind and he finds your entrance with the tip of his finger, lining up his cock.

“if you weren’t wet already,” he jokes, leaning over to kiss your lower back that’s now much closer to him.

he slaps his hard and full cock upwards against your cunt and your pussy is pleading for him, it’s hot and convulsing with each passing moment. you spread your legs further and really lean your body as much as you can to allow him full access from behind.

matt reaches up to bond his fingers with your wet hair, wrapping them up in his knuckles to control you fully.

you whimper at the feeling of him slowly stretch you out with his tip, pushing in. your mouth opens and you moan, trying to claw at the glass but your hands feeling useless, having no choice but to ball into a fist, or reach back to grab matt’s body, his ass, his slutty hips that are protruding forward and focusing intently on filling you. his shaft fits so perfect into your cunt and you can almost feel his cock curve up and hit your walls with the angle you’re at.

he thrusts you into the shower glass, pulling back, yanking your hair and thrusting deeply back with a loud slap. the water rushing over your bodies is spraying everywhere with each thrusting movement he throws into you from behind.

“fuuuuck,” he stretches his words, pulling you into him and absolutely hammering your pussy.

“grab the shower head, baby. show me what you got,” he speaks between each thrust he’s giving you, making it so hard to focus on straining for the metal piece. when you do, you hold it between your thighs where you watch his perfect cock slide in and out of you.

“sh-shit matt,” your words shake in your throat, and your arms are shaking as the spraying water on your clit washes the most euphoric feeling over you.

matt grabs your glistening breast from behind, arching his back over your body and the warm sticky feeling of his chest making contact with your back, continuing to fill you at a quick and furious pace. the sounds leaving his mouth alone could make you cum then and there.

“ngh, fuck, baby i’m gonna cum, fucking hard” he groans, and you feel his thrusts become sloppy.

you almost have the sensation to grind into the shower head but you push back into his cock instead. he squeezes your breast so hard you know he’s gonna leave little red finger prints.

“me too matty, so close” you cry out, banging on the glass so hard you’re shocked it hasn’t shattered. the steam is making it harder to breathe but you don’t care, you’re taking him fully and he’s giving it to you with everything he’s got.

the last hard, loud thrusts are where you both completely and utterly let go, filling the small room with moans and grunts. your stomach flutters and tightens and his cum fills your cunt as you feel him pull out, letting the shower head wash away what he’s released and then dropping it onto the tiled floor at your feet. his cum drips out of you and you shudder at the feeling.

"my pretty little cum slut," matt's fingers slide between your folds and rubs his cum between his fingers, spreading it all down your inner thighs.

your breath is shallow while matt’s hand in your hair guides you to straighten your posture, bringing you into his arms, letting you rest. he wraps his arms around you from behind, and you hug his hands to your chest.

“god it’s hot in here, and not just because of you” you know he’s talking about the literal heat, because yes, it’s disturbingly humid. a mix between your excessive movements and the hot water.

“yeah it is,” you kiss his wrist that sits just below your chin, giving a light laugh. water runs down your face, and you rub it from your eyes.

“round two on the bed?” he teases into your ear, and you can feel the smirk on his face growing as you throw your head back with a giggle. you flick water at him and he bites your neck in retaliation.

“i haven’t even washed my hair yet,” you half pout half smile.

“i’ll wash it for you. relax, baby” he completely folds the moment he hears the softness in your tone.

the moment you try to adjust your stance you feel your knees get weak. matt chuckles at your little wobble as you regain your balance, holding you up as you continue coming down for your high.

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic

851 notes · View notes

javiscigarette · 1 year ago

Text

Ease

Javier Peña x f!reader

Requested:

requesting… daddy!javi comforting u after a stressful work day 👀 pls n thank

warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, fingering, squirting, spitting, spanking, a bit ass play (I cant resist), dirty talk, daddy!javi obviously, d/s dynamics obviously, extreme overuse of pet names and I'm not sorry, fluffy Javi deserves its own warning

w/c: 5.3k

a/n: the long overdue Javi fic is finally here lmao I wrote this very quickly and I haven't written for him in a long time so it may not be my best but I'm honestly just proud that I finally got something out :)) pls let me know if you like it!! ALSO! I reached 1.5k followers awhile ago which is just mind blowing so I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who has joined me and continues to support me. This blog and all the friends I've made here have helped me through some pretty rough times and I'm forever grateful AHHH I just you all soo much!!

my masterlist

You’re not there to greet him when he opens the door. Usually you’d have a glass of whiskey in your hand for him, already a little tipsy from the glass you had for yourself earlier.

There’s a unpleasant shiver that runs down his spine as the thought of you being in some sort of danger immediately crosses his mind. But the sound of you puttering around in the kitchen gives you away. That and the haze of smoke and smell of burnt food wafting through the entire apartment.

He kicks his shoes off and loosens his tie as he rounds the corner to the kitchen to find you standing in front of the stove, tending to what he assumes is some chicken in a pan. The exhaust fan on the range hood and the ceiling fan are working overtime, pushing the smoke out of the kitchen and through the open window.

“Hi, bebita” Javi says as he enters the smokey kitchen. You don’t say anything in response, just give him a quick sideways glance before turning back to the stove.

He crosses the room and moves to stand behind you. Maybe if he had seen the frown on your face, or the way your eyebrows are deeply creased in frustration, he would’ve said something very different.

But he didn’t see.

“Dinner smells delicious” he teases, squeezing your hips. He’s expecting a little chuckle from you, or at least an annoyed eye roll with a hidden smile.

So he’s caught very off guard when you slam the spatula down on the counter with a loud, frustrated sigh.

“Well I’m sorry that I tried to make a nice meal. Guess I’m fuckin’ useless at that too.”

You try to push yourself out of his grasp, but his grip only tightens.

“Hey okay okay, easy.” Javi soothes, turning you around so you’re facing him. “What’s wrong, bebita?” he asks, his tone immediately switching from teasing to soft and tener.You puff out a heavy sigh, refusing to look up at him and staring at his white shirt stretched across his chest instead.

All the thoughts about your horrid day at work that you’ve been trying to block out break the damn and come flooding back into your head; your boss telling you that you fucked up two different major tasks and refusing to tell you how to do them correctly, catching your coworkers gossiping about you in the breakroom, your computer dying right before you could save any of the work you had done for the day, and how you tried to come home and cook as a distraction but you clearly forgot about the chicken sitting on the stove and almost caught the house on fire.

You hadn’t even noticed the tears welling up in your eyes until Javi is wiping away the ones that have brimmed over and slid down your cheeks.

“Cariño…” Javi whispers, his tone drenched with concern. That’s all it takes. You instantly break down, falling forward into Javi’s chest as your whole body shakes as you sob, your tears wetting the crisp fabric of his shirt.

You tell him everything in between wet gasps and uneven breaths, unloading everything at once. He just holds you through it, nodding along and giving you an occasional understanding hum while running his palms up and down your back until you finish talking.

“Your boss is an asshole” is the first thing Javi says. “Your coworkers too”

You respond with a pathetic sniffle. “I really fucked up though. And now everyone thinks I can’t do my job”

"Bebita,” Javi starts, continuing to rub soothing circles on your back. “Everyone has tough days at work. It doesn't define your abilities or your worth. You're so much more than a single bad day."

You sniffle again, still leaning heavily against him for support.

"It's just... I'm tired of feeling like I'm constantly failing."

Javi clicks his tongue and moves one hand to use two fingers to gently tilt your chin up, making you meet his easy gaze.

"You're not failing, mi amor. Sometimes things don’t go as planned and that’s okay. You're learning and growing."

You wish he wasn’t so right all the time. Sometimes talking back to the false narrative that runs rampant in your head 24/7 is too much work.��

"I know” you sigh, wiping away tears with the back of your hand. “It’s just hard not to let it get to me."

Javi's thumb brushes against your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I understand. Just remember you're not alone in this. I’ll always be here for you, my sweet girl”

You manage a weak smile, feeling a bit of warmth starting to seep back into your heavy heart.

“Thank you” you whisper.

Javi smiles warmly, his eyes full of admiration and unwavering support.

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you always. No matter what.”

You let your head fall back to his chest and you take a deep breath. He keeps rubbing your back, physically feeling the tension leaving your body as you melt against him. Without your brain in overdrive, you finally register the smell of his faded cologne and his cigarettes sticking to his shirt, the scent immediately washing away more of the tension in your muscles. The warm feeling in your chest starts to spread all the way down to your toes, your whole body feeling 10 times lighter than it did 5 minutes ago as his embrace brings you a sense of solace you hadn’t experienced all day.

After another silent minute or two, he places a kiss to your hairline before leaning in close, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“You know, there’s another way to forget about it for a little while.”

His low voice alone already has the base of your spine tingling. You pick your head up to meet his gaze, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes.

“Yeah?” you ask, a weak smile slowly spreading across your face.

“Mhmm” he hums, his hands sliding down to your waist and slipping under the hem of your shirt, his warm fingers splaying over your skin.

"You've had a tough day," Javi continues, his voice a sensual murmur. "And I think you deserve something to take your mind off all that stress."

His words, laden with suggestion, push all the worries out of your body, replacing it with a thrill that courses through your veins. He leans in until his face is inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Let me take care of you, bebita."

All you can do is nod dumbly. Javi grins as he pulls you in closer. His lips capture yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss, his lips soft and warm against yours, the taste of him flooding your senses. His hands slide up from your waist to your rib cage, rucking up your shirt in the process. Every touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, drawing you impossibly closer to him. He pulls away just long enough to pull it over your head before his lips capture yours again.

He wraps one arm around you, keeping you close as his other hand cups your jaw, his fingers curling around the back of your neck as his thumb mindlessly brushes your cheek. Your hands find their way to his back, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt.

He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and you part your lips with a soft sigh, his tongue immediately sliding against yours. It’s a dance of desire and vulnerability, an unspoken promise that he’s here to take away all of your worries. The rest of the world quickly fades into a distant blur, leaving just the two of you in this electric connection.

His lips eventually leave your mouth, his breathless chuckle fanning across your jaw at the sound of your quiet whimper. He trails wet kisses along your jaw, down to the side of your neck, each one accompanied by a soft exhale that causes goosebumps to erupt over every inch of your skin. The sensation is exquisite and maddeningly arousing, and you find yourself tilting your head back, giving him better access.

His teeth gently graze over your pulse point, sending shiver coursing through your entire body. Your heart races as he finds a spot just below your collarbone, nipping and sucking before soothing the dark spot with his tongue. His hands roam your torso, big, warm palms exploring every inch of exposed skin. You can feel the bulge in his jeans rapidly grow against your hip and your core throbs with a dull ache in response. Everything that happened earlier is miles away as you feel yourself relaxing deeper into his embrace, losing yourself in him.

He pulls away when you whine quietly and looks down at you, his pupils already blown with lust and desire. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then ducks down to place a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering “Bedroom. Now.”

You nod and turn to head out of the kitchen, letting out a small giggle when he lands a quick slap to your ass. His eyes are glued to your backside as he follows you to the bedroom, his fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt along the way

You flop down on the edge of the bed with Javi just a few steps behind you. He tosses his shirt to the corner of the room and starts working on his belt as he stalks towards you. You smirk and reach behind you, undoing the clasp of your bra and letting it slide off your arms. Javi licks his lips at the sight of you sitting there in only your soft cotton shorts, looking like he’s about to pounce on his prey.

He crosses the room until he’s standing inches in front of you, then slips his belt out of the loops and tosses it aside. You reach out, intent on undoing the button and zipper of his jeans but he stops you by wrapping a large hand around your wrist before you can touch him.

“Nuh uh, baby. I’m takin’ care of you tonight”

His words send a strong pulse of excitement down your spine and your heart pounds in your chest. He lets go of your wrist and you let it fall limply back to your side as you stare at him through your lashes.

“Take off your shorts.”

You immediately follow his command, quickly standing and moving to slide your shorts and panties down your legs so fast that you stumble a bit when they get caught around your feet. Javi reaches out and grabs your arm to steady you as you step out of your shorts and kick them to the side.

“Good girl” he chuckles, dropping his hand from your arm. You watch with wide eyes, saliva gathering in your mouth as he shuffles out his jeans, his hardened cock gently slapping against his lower abdomen. He catches your gaze and gives you a knowing wink before making his way onto the bed. You stand in place, patiently waiting for your next set of instructions as he props himself up against the headboard.

“C’mere” he says softly, patting his thigh. You positively beam as you climb on the bed towards him. You face him and you’re about to straddle his lap, but he stops you with a hand on your hip.

“Turn around, cariño.”

You listen and immediately turn around and sit down between his spread legs, pressing your back into his chest. His cock presses firmly into the small of your back, a warm and welcome presence. With a contented sigh, you lean back and rest your head on his shoulder.

“You listen so well, baby” Javi rasps, his voice rough with arousal. You only hum in response, your lips curving into a grin as you glow under his praise. He presses a kiss to your temple and his hands find your torso once again, slowly sliding up and down your sides. But he can only resist temptation for so long.

He uses both hands to cup your breasts and you both let out soft sighs in unison.

“Tan bonita, princesa” he whispers, his fingers finding both of your nipples. A small noise escapes from your parted lips as he feathers the pads of his fingers over the sensitive buds, teasing you until they’re stiffened peaks. He then pinches both, gently rolling them between his thumb and fingers.

“That feel good?” he asks softly, his lips moving against your temple.

You nod, letting out an uneven breath as you involuntarily push your chest forward into his touch. He pinches a little harder, pulling a delicate gasp from you. His cock twitches against you in response.

“Want you to use your words, bebita.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before responding.

“F-feels good, Javi.”

He clicks his tongue and squeezes a little harder again.

“And what do you call me when I’m makin’ you feel good, princesa?” he asks, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

Your mouth goes dry and your heart skips a beat in your chest.

Fuck.

The stress of your day was already far in the back of your mind, but Javi was intent on erasing it completely. And he knows exactly how to do so.

“Daddy” you correct yourself, the simple word placing you on precipice of submission “Feels really good, daddy”

“That’s right, bebita” Javi groans softly, his cock twitching in approval. “Such a good girl for me.”

He then hooks his chin over your shoulder while you exhale a long, shaky breath as one of his hands leaves your breast and slides down your stomach. You clit pulses in anticipation, but he avoids where you want him most and instead smooths his hand over the top of your thigh. Your chest heaves with every breath as he teases you with gentle touches, getting you all worked up just the way you both like it.

“You want me to touch you, princessa?” Javi asks, his fingertips dancing delicately on the inside of your thigh. It tickles and you reflexively try to close your legs, but he brings his foot to the inside of your calf and pushes it to the side before placing his foot flat on the bed, keeping your leg firmly in place. “Answer me.”

“Yes, daddy, please” you whine, your voice coming out a lot more desperate than you intended.

“Where, baby? Tell me where you want daddy’s fingers.”

He’s teasing you, but it serves as an excellent distraction – the events from earlier today are the least of your concerns right now.

“You want them here?” he asks, his fingers now just barely tracing your dripping seam. “Want me to touch your pretty little pussy? Rub that pretty little clit?”

You nod fervently and buck your hips up without thinking, your body betraying your patience and chasing after his touch. Javi chuckles darkly and harshly pinches your nipple with his other hand, making you jump in surprise.

“Tell me, baby. Be a good girl and tell me.”

You whimper, a hot flush spreading across your chest and creeping up your neck. You’ve been here a thousand times with him, been in far more desperate situations too. But the butterflies still tickle your tummy and the tips of your ears burn with embarrassment.

“Want…want you to touch my pretty little pussy, daddy.” you murmur, the last of your sentence barely audible.

He immediately rewards you by dipping two fingers into your slippery folds, groaning softly in your ear when he feels how wet you are for him. “Mmm that’s my good girl. Always fuckin’ soaked for me, huh?” he asks, dipping the tips of his fingers into your hole, gathering your slick and dragging it up to your clit. You nod lazily, your eyes fixed on his hand between your legs.

He starts with slow, languid circles, his cock pulsing against your back with every small noise that bubbles up out of your throat. His other hand is still occupied with pinching and rolling your nipple. Hot arousal flows through your veins, every nerve ending on fire just from his easy touches. You want it faster, you need more. But you know he won’t give it to you unless you ask.

“Pl-please, daddy. Faster please” you huff, squirming in his lap as you try to suppress the urge to buck your hips up again.

“Look at you, princesa. Being such a good girl asking’ nicely like that” Javi whispers, instantly picking up the pace of his fingers and adding more pressure. You let out a long, low moan, the sound of it filling the bedroom. “Sound so pretty too” he adds, pressing his lips to your temple.

His other hand leaves your nipple and he shushes you softly when you whine at the loss. He doesn’t tease you this time, his hand immediately joining the other between your legs. He keeps his two fingers on your clit, rubbing firm circles just like you asked while his other hand finds your leaking entrance.

He doesn’t make you ask again before he slides his middle finger inside of you, probably more out of his own desperation to feel you clenching around him. You’re absolutely soaked, you juices freely flowing out of you, down his finger and into his palm like warm honey. He wants to draw it out, slowly work you up until you’re about to snap, but he’s not feeling very patient anymore.

He slides his finger in and out of you a few more times before adding a second, curling his fingertips. He finds the spot inside of you instantly and you reward him with a loud gasp, your whole body trembling as you relax against his chest.

“That’s it, baby. Just relax for me” Javi coos, his voice tight and strained as he tries to contain his own excitement. He pumps his fingers inside you, his fingertips nudging against the spot that has your whole body jolting with every pass. Every inch of your skin feels on fire as he works you, lewd sounds filling the room as he plays with your slick pussy. You feel wetness on your back and quickly realize that it’s his precum leaking from his warm tip, smearing against your skin as you squirm around.

“Mierda, princesa” Javi groans as you clench tightly around his two fingers. “You close, baby?” he asks, already knowing the answer. You answer with a high-pitched whine, throwing your head back on his shoulder.

“Cum for me, baby” Javi grunts, moving his fingers faster, bringing you to the edge. “Cum all over my fingers and then I’ll fuck you, nice and deep just how you like it”

His fingers are relentless, rubbing dizzying circles on your clit and punching up into your g-spot. You can’t hold back anymore, rocking your hips and grinding down on his fingers. Your chest burns with every breath you manage to suck in, the hot coil in your tummy wound tightly, threatening to burst at any moment. You open your mouth and try to tell him that you’re about to cum, but every time you try to speak, the only sounds that come out are loud gasps in-between broken moans.

And then you finally snap. Javi groans as you clamp down around his fingers, so tight that he can hardly keep moving them. He then quickly pulls them out, his eyes wide with amazement as your juices gush out of you, drops of it landing on his leg, most of it soaking the blankets underneath you.

“There’s my good girl” he hisses between clenched teeth. He watches intently as you thrash around, the sight of you squirting and the sweet sounds of your moans going straight to his cock as he works you through your orgasm. He doesn’t let up until you come down, whimpering and jolting at his touch.

You collapse backwards against his chest, your head on his shoulder as you pant and try to catch your breath. He goes back to tracing your seam, his touch featherlight once again. You let out a sigh, your limbs heavy and head fuzzy with pure ecstasy.

He eventually moves his hands away, placing them on your thighs and letting out a low whistle.

“Did so well, princesa. Look how much you came for me” Javi rasps, nosing at the column of your neck.

You pick your head up, looking down at the aftermath of your orgasm. You laugh breathlessly at the dark spot underneath you and the liquid on Javi’s calf shining in the dim glow of the lamp on the bedside table. Javi’s chest rumbles with his own chuckle as he presses sweet kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck.

He doesn’t give you much time to recover before he taps your thighs and gives you your next command. “Hands and knees, princesa.”

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath, but your pussy still aches in anticipation of his earlier promise. You take a deep breath and find enough strength to sit up straight. Your limbs are weak and noodly as you crawl over to a dry spot on the bed and get into position, your ass in the air with your face pressed against the soft blankets.

You crane your neck to watch Javi who flashes you a devilish grin as he assumes his position on his knees behind you. You give him a sweet smile back and wiggle your ass. And he takes the bait, groping your cheeks with both hands before he spreads you open, putting everything on display just for him.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, baby.” he growls before leaning over to spit. You gasp and moan softly at the feeling of the warm liquid landing on your asshole and sliding down to pool at your swollen clit. He then brings his thumb up, using the pad to gently rub his saliva against your puckered hole. “So fuckin’ gorgeous”

“Daddyyyy” you whine pitifully, pushing your hips back into his touch. He chuckles breathlessly and wraps a hand around the base of his cock and lining himself up.

“You’re so good, baby.” Javi starts as he slides his cock in the mess between your cheeks. “My strong, beautiful, intelligent, good girl.”

Your face heats up at the praise, the words stirring up the butterflies in your stomach yet again.

“Thank you, daddy” you murmur, the sound muffled by the blankets. Javi just hums and continues to glide his cock through the wetness, addicted to the way whimper every time his cockhead brushes against your swollen clit and your aching entrance. You whimper and wiggle your hips again, trying to get what you want.

“Repeat it.” Javi commands simply. “Wanna hear you say it”

You squeeze your eyes shut and whimper again. He’s completely taken over your headspace now, forcing you into a place of submission where there’s no room to think about anything other than him and what he asks of you. This is how he takes care of you, how he can turn every bad day on its head and take away every single one of your worries until you’re a blissed out mess underneath him. And he’s really fucking good at it.

“I’m your strong, beautiful, intelligent, girl” you choke out, a fresh wave of slick gushing out of you and onto his rock hard cock at the forced admission.

“Forgot one” he breathes, his thumb still rubbing at your tight little hole. You wrack your brain, thoughts moving slower than syrup in your head as you try to remember what he said not even 10 seconds ago.

“Good.” you say, as soon as you remember. I’m you’re good girl, daddy.”

“Yes you are, baby” Javi says, notching his tip at your entrance. “So fucking good for your daddy.”

He pushes all the way in, burying himself to balls deep in your aching cunt in one smooth movement. The sounds you make are obscene as you twist your fists in the blanket underneath him. He’s so deep, you swear you can feel him somewhere near your lungs. Just like he promised. He moans roughly behind you, the feeling on your warm walls squeezing rhythmically around his neglected cock overwhelming all of his senses.

But you don’t let him catch a break. You barely give yourself time to adjust before you take matters into your own hands and start rocking your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. Javi inhales sharply, both hands finding your hips and trying to hold you in place, but you’re not having it.

“Daddy please–oh shit– please fuck me, need it so bad” you whine as you continue to rock your hips despite Javi’s best efforts to stop you.

Javi just growls in response, his fingertips digging into your hips as he slides out until just his tip rests inside before slamming back into you. The loud moan that he pulls from you travels as a shiver down his spine and fuels his fire. He quickly finds a steady pace, brutally slamming into you like he’s fucking the stress out right out of your body. You let all the moans and whines and whimpers float freely out of your mouth as you take what he gives you, as he fills you up and stuffs you full over and over and over again.

“You're so good for me” Javi grunts, gripping your hips and moving them backwards to meet his every thrust. “Feel so fucking good squeezing me like that, this tight little pussy was fucking made for me”

Your eyes roll back into your head, his words once again turning your brain into mush as he fucks you into another plane of existence. You’re already teetering on the edge of another release, your lower abdomen burning with it, your swollen, neglected clit pulsing and desperate for attention.

And Javi feels it too.

“Already gonna cum again?” Javi asks breathlessly before landing a smack to your ass. You yelp in shock and there’s another wave of your juices leaking out onto his cock.

“Ohh you like that, don’t you baby?” Javi coos before spanking you again, this time a bit harsher. Your face scrunches in pleasure and words have completely eluded you so you just cry out against the mattress, hoping that and your clenching pussy gets the point across.

Thankfully Javi doesn’t ask you to answer him. Instead he keeps fucking into you, delivering firmm hits to your ass, completely mesmerized with the way it jiggles as he spanks and fucks into you. He’s just as close as you are, never lasts very long if he’s inside without cumming at least once beforehand.

He moves one hand from your hip to between your legs, his fingers tracing where you’re stretched out so nicely around his thick cock before they land on your clit once again. You sob as he starts immediately rubbing fast, harsh circles that send you speeding towards the finish line.

“Oh fuck, daddy! Gonna cum m’gonna cum pleasssee let me cum”

Javi sucks in a harsh breath, his eyebrows furrowing together as his cock lurches inside of you.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, baby. Cum on this cock like a good girl” Javi grits out, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clenches his teeth together, trying to hold himself together. Your hands scramble against the blankets as he slams into you with newfound vigor, pushing you up the bed with each thrust and making you scream in ecstasy.

“Cum and then I’ll fill you up” he grunts. “I’ll fill you up and fuck it so deep that it’ll be leaking out of you for days, just reminding you of how good you are for me. Always so fucking good baby jesus christ”

His filthy promises send you flying over the edge. You bury your face in the blankets and scream, your legs giving out from the force of it, your hips dropping to the bed and leaving you in a prone position. And Javi doesn’t miss a beat. He presses his chest against your back, using his freehand to support the bulk of his weight as he keeps working his fingers on your clit the best he can, not letting his pace falter even once.

The new position shoves his cock even deeper inside of you, punching against your cervix with each thrust as he rearranges your guts. Your only option is to lie there let him drag out your release for as long as possible.

“That’s it” Javi rasps, his voice sounding absolutely wrecked now. “Sweet little pussy is fuckin’ milking my cock, cariño. You want my cum? Want me to stuff you fuckin’ full?”

You’re too far gone to respond, reduced to nothing but putty in his hands, your trembling body limp and pliant just for him to use. He can only hold it together for a few more thrusts before he buries himself all the way inside of you, spilling his hot seed deep inside of you.

Staying true to his promise, he fucks you through it, shallowly moving his hips and pushing his cum as deep as possible. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, the sensation of it all pushing you over the edge once again, though you’re not sure if you ever came back from the last one. Javi watches in amazement as you cum again, your voice breaking on desperate sobs while you squeeze around him, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

He moves his hand from your clit once your moans start to die down and then collapses on top of you, carefully though as not to completely crush you. You welcome the weight, a comforting pressure that makes you feel so warm and safe and secure.

He stays buried inside of you as you both come down. You can feel his heart pounding from where his chest is pressed against you, his warm breath fanning across your neck as you both try to catch your breath. The two of you stay there for a while, basking in the post coitus glow. His cock softens inside of you and he only moves when his cum starts to dribble out of you.

You whine softly as he moves to sit up, his now soft cock slipping out of you and leaving you feeling empty. But the feeling doesn’t last too long.

He scoots back so he’s kneeling between your legs, both hands on your cheeks and spreading you open again. You feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as he watches his cum slowly leaking out of you. He doesn’t let it fall too far though, using a finger to scoop up all that’s dribbled out and pushing it back inside. You moan softly at the sensation and it takes everything in him not to fuck you with his fingers once again.

“Think we need to get you in a nice hot shower” he says, his tone sweet and soft once again as he removes his fingers.

You turn your head to look at him through hooded eyes, a dopey smile plastered to your face, looking completely fucked out.

“And we’re ordering take out too” he announces, leaning over to place a sweet kiss on your cheek. Images of the burnt chicken sitting on the stove float through your head, along with fuzzy memories of the events from earlier today. But you don’t give a single fuck anymore. Javi thoroughly wiped every ounce of stress from your brain. And now anything that isn’t directly related to you and Javi at this moment, on your shared bed in the dim light of the evening sun filtering through the curtain is far, far away.

“We’re not getting fucking chicken” is all you say and the sound of yours and Javi’s laughter rings pleasantly through the room and in your ears as content seeps deep into your bones.

I LOVE THIS MAN okay thank u for reading <333

#javier pena smut #javier pena x reader #javier pena fic #javier pena x you #javier pena #narcos #narcos fic #pedro pascal characters #javiscigarette

2K notes · View notes

yutarot · 4 months ago

Text

IN PERFECT SYNC [j.jh smau]

six — the man he was. wc: 376

the moment you heard jaehyuns voice amongst the crowd and the bands cover of champagne supernova, you immediately felt your heart drop.

there was no way this was happening.

“kazuha…” you poke her arm, causing her to roll her eyes at you for interrupting her so-called ‘fan moment’ which consisted of her being adamant she’d had eye-contact with the jeno lee, the bands bass player, who was standing 100 feet away.

“what is it!” she yells, and you immediately panic, whisper yelling at her to shut up.

but when you point to the man ahead of you, her eyes turn wide.

“no way.” she replies. “yn we need to leave.”

she grabs your arm in attempt to pull you out of the crowd. but there was no way in hell that you were leaving here without taking up this opportunity, and that fact only encouraged you. that and the 7 beers that you had already drunk, telling you that this was the best idea in the world.

which it definitely wasn’t.

but before kazuha could stop you, you had already reached up to tap on his shoulder, watching his eyes roll as he turns to face you.

“oh, for fuck sake.” he dead-pans, his friend, yuta, beside him, laughing at the sight.

jaehyun looks anything but amused.

“you’re blocking my view.” you snap. he sighs before attempting to turn back around. that was until the next words leave your mouth, somewhat quicker than you had hoped.

“so you’re just gonna ignore me. again.”

“yn.” he warns.

“no.” you shrug, “let’s talk about it, right here and now. i don’t see why not.”

he looks at yuta before turning back to you.

“you’re drunk.”

you know confronting jaehyun like this isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had, but this conversation is long overdue.

“im leaving, don’t talk to me.” jaehyun says as he walks off, yuta shrugging before following after him.

you want to chase after him, yell at him for everything he’s ever done to you, everything he ever did to you. but you stay, wondering if you’ll ever get the chance again.

but for now, you stay hating him. the man he is, the man he will be but most importantly:

the man he was.

mlist — next

notes; im reopening the taglist, pls lmk if you’d like to be added! also i just finished my writeup of the literal entire plot and lemme just say this is gna be my fav BY FARR it’s a literal rollercoaster im so excited for everything to be revealed. there may be 2 or 3 chapters based on friends episodes (s5 e14🤭) because im rewatching it again and it keeps giving me ideas 😓 ALSO this deal or no deal crossover is making me so excited pls

taglist — open; @https-yeonjun @chenlesfavorite @therealbobbyshloby @f6llsun @jkslvsnella @nanaxwi @cloudmrk @neocrashed @vernonburger @vividwritess @taeeflwrr @mmjhh1998 @cyjzzl @stareaa @minkyuncutie @mrkleelvr @dudekiss3r @nattan127 @slayhaechan @jaeveil @tynlvr @mslora @nosungluv @grassbutneo @dokyriu @girlz4jaem @axo-l0tl @yyangj3lly @solvrse @m1ng1swife @gentlepeach @xiuriii @soobinbunnie5 @tocupid @apolloxxivmin @ctrlstar @gyuguys @tokitosun @i-kai @flamingi @mrkleelvr @en-dream @queenrachelpink @ssweetreveries @swanyvess @flaminghotyourmom @hyuck-me @cryingforjae @hizhu @starfilledgaze

#nct #nct fanfic #nct smau #nct college au #nct 127 #jaehyun x reader #nct jaehyun #jeong jaehyun smau #jaehyun smau #jaehyun nct #jeong jaehyun #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun

216 notes · View notes

fruittt-punchhh · 7 months ago

Text

Pop My Cherry!

all parts

Synopsis: your dad’s best friend is none other than Toji Fushiguro, and you can’t help but wonder what he could do with his hands.

Characters: Toji Fushiguro x reader. Choso Kamo is mentioned, not a major part of the story.

Content: Minors Do Not Interact! afab! reader, fem! reader, dad’s best friend! Toji, suggestiveness, cursing, inexperienced (ish) reader, reader is a virgin but has done things ya know, reader smokes weed, alcohol usage, pet/affectionate names, no smut yet 🫶

Word Count: 2.2k-ish

Notes: friends!!! This is my first ever smut! Pls be nice🫶 if you have any suggestions, comments, advice, PLEASE feel free to let me know!! I hope you enjoy hehe. (filthy smut if you’re down for that in pt. 2 trust) excuse any typos, proofread a bunch but I’m also human. 💖

It had been a terribly long week already, and it was only Thursday. You were on spring break from university, and you had spent most of the week catching up on overdue assignments.

You were staying with your father, as well as your brother, and your father’s best friend. He had a condo at the beach that wasn’t too far from your university, so it worked out well.

You had just finished your final essay for philosophy 200, closing your laptop with a snap! as you rub your eyes. It was nearing 3:30 a.m. but you still felt so much residual stress from the paper. You had a joint ready and waiting for you, and a hit or two couldn’t hurt, right? Enough so you could relax, maybe grab a snack, and hit the hay. You open your bedroom window, creeping out onto the balcony to let your worries fade away.

————————————————————————

You throw your leg over the window sill, trying to keep your balance. You lowkey had the munchies so you head to the kitchen before you retire for the night. Until you are met with a surprise.

Your father’s friend (you think his last name was Fushiguro?) has been gone all week for “work”. You noticed him coming in at odd hours of the night, looking worse for wear.

“What are you starin’ at, doll?” Toji says as he looks for a shirt in the laundry room.

You feel your cheeks turn red as you try to quickly avert your eyes. You wore nothing but a large t-shirt as you crept into the kitchen, hoping you wouldn’t wake your father.

You thought you heard Toji come in maybe an hour earlier, but you couldn’t know for sure. Here he stood, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist. His dark hair was dripping down his back and he still looked as if he was radiating heat from the shower he just took (or was that you?) It was all of a sudden much too warm in the kitchen for your liking.

“S-sorry, I was just grabbing a snack. I’ll be quick,” you stammer. You had only ever seen Toji a few times, and you didn’t remember him to be this… attractive? You didn’t know if that was even the right word. In this moment, you felt attracted to him, sure. But you also felt small and helpless. As if he could pierce through you with his gaze alone. You truly didn’t mean to stare, but you also didn’t expect anyone else to be in the kitchen at 4 a.m., either.

He interrupts you with a smirk, “What’s the rush? It’s y/n, right? Grab me a beer out of the fridge while you’re at it, girl”

If you thought your cheeks couldn’t be any redder, you were wrong. You felt the crimson blush cover your ears as you turned around to look for a beer in the fridge. There was a (beer brand here) in the back on the bottom shelf. You tried to bend at your knees as to be discreet, but you could have sworn you heard Toji clearing his throat as you did so.

Toji slipped on a pair of black boxer briefs as you grabbed him a beer like the sweet girl you are. He felt as if the wind was knocked out of him when he saw you bend down, searching the fridge for his drink. Call him crazy, but he could’ve sworn you weren’t wearing any panties. He quickly ran the towel through his hair, trying to ignore the rush of blood he felt surging to his dick.

You grabbed the beer, as well as an apple for yourself. You walked over to Toji, and he took the beer from you with a ‘thanks’. He popped off the cap with his molars and took a big swig. You watched as the beer dripped down his chin and over his adam’s apple. You also noticed the scar covering his pretty lips.

Your eyes wandered as he finished his beer surprisingly quickly. He would usually come home covered in a mixture of dirt, sweat, and sometimes blood. Apparently, underneath the dirt and grime was a body that was sculpted by the gods. Everything about him was so big. His huge tits pecs and his ripped abdomen. His biceps were bigger than your head and his hands, oh god, his hands. They were riddled with callouses and he had short, bitten nails. His fingers were so thick and you started to imagine what it would be like to feel them on your body.

Your temperature rose as the lewd thoughts entered your mind. This is your father’s best friend! Although he was a a few years younger than your dad, he was still much too old for you. Not only that, but you were still (unfortunately) a virgin. And not for a lack of trying! You were double majoring in psychology and philosophy, so most of your limited leisure time was spent smoking to relax, or hanging out with your small group of friends on the weekends. Sure, you had masturbated plenty of times, and you’ve given the occasional blowjob. But you’ve never quite found the right person at the right time to go all the way with. You never cared much about the label ‘virgin’ until now, feeling like you might have been missing out.

Now, you were standing in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning thinking about what this man could do to you with just his fingers. The thought alone had you squeezing your thighs together, trying to give yourself any relief from the problem you’ve created.

“You know it’s rude to stare, right y/n? Especially after I asked you a question, doll”

Yet again, he’s caught you off guard. I mean seriously, how old were you? You felt like a teenage boy who had just seen his first pair of tits. You need to pull yourself together so you can get out of here as soon as possible. You didn’t know how long you would be able to hold it together without making it quite obvious that internally, you were aching.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I was lost in a train of thought, I-I guess. What was the question?” Hopefully he doesn’t catch on to your half-lie.

Toji pulls a black compression tee over his torso, giving you a moment to collect yourself finally. He throws the beer in the trash and steps into the light of the kitchen alongside you.

He flashes a toothy smile at you, “You should watch that language. Pretty girls don’t go around saying things like that. And I asked you what the hell you were doing up so late.”

Pretty girls? Did you hear him correctly? He could just be saying things to get you to squirm, and if that was his goal, it was working all too well. You hope his smile was out of politeness, but you knew enough about Toji from your father to know that this man did not have a polite bone in his body. It seemed almost as if he was teasing you?

“S-Sorry about the language, I’m just tired. I’ve been working on my philosophy paper for the last few hours and I just wanted a snack before I went to bed,” you admitted truthfully.

Toji rolled his eyes, smirking at your statement, “God, that sounds so fucking boring. I’m surprised you finished it, I woulda given up hours ago.”

You smiled at his honesty. You knew that your paper topic ‘the perception of personal space’ and your other assignments on morals and judgement were not everyone’s cup of tea. “It’s actually quite interesting, it’s about the concept of how one perceives personal space, but I definitely wanted to call it quits a few times. I’m just glad I can sleep in tomorrow.” You admit with a grin. Despite his blasé attitude, a part of you thought he might actually be listening (at least a little bit).

All he heard was bla bla bla. It seems interesting enough, if you have absolutely nothing else going on in your life. How could you even write two sentences on personal space, let alone an essay? “If it’s that fucking interesting, then why are you in here looking like a walking corpse? Have you seen those bags under your eyes? You need the sleep more than I do, hun.”

Well damn. You didn’t think it was that bad, especially not enough for some old man to point out. You had been staying up most nights trying to catch up on your work, and you could sleep in anyways. But each morning you found yourself awake at 7 a.m. on the dot, still cursed by the rigidity of your usual school routine.

“I’ve just been behind, so I’m trying to catch up while I have the free time.”

Toji peers at you and scratches his head, “Why the fuck are you doing school work on spring break, anyway? Aren’t ya’ supposed to be at the beach getting wasted with your girlfriends?”

While you admit that would be fun, there was just no time for it this year. You were in the last semester of your senior year, and you were graduating with top honors. You had to keep up the good work so you could hopefully be accepted into graduate school in the fall.

“I mean it’d be fun sure, but smoking is more my thing anyways. I like relaxing after all my work is done, so I’d rather stay here and get caught up while I can, ya’know?”

How cute. Look at you trying to be a good little student. It would almost be admirable if it didn’t make his stomach churn at how sickly sweet it was.

“That’s good, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be making big bucks just like me, yeah? What are you wanting to go to school for anyways, to be a fuckin’ therapist or some shit?”

Everyone thought you wanted to be a therapist, but truth be told, that profession couldn’t be more off your radar. You had enough problems of your own to deal with, and you certainly didn’t need to hear other people’s on top of that.

“I’m not going to school to be a therapist actually; I really want to be a professor one day. What do you do for work anyways? You always look like you just came home from war or some-“

He cuts you off before you can land a joke at his expense. Toji’s profession wasn’t the best topic for conversation, given that his line of work was very hush-hush.

“You’re cute. Next question.”

Cute?? At this point you felt like he was toying with you. But you did have another question for him.

“How come I can’t say ‘shit’ but you can say whatever you want? I’m grown, aren’t I?”

Toji shifted towards you. You stood in the door frame between the kitchen and the hallway, your apple untouched. You were too busy thinking of what to say next to the large, burly man that was suddenly peering over you. He came to the doorframe, throwing one hand on top of it. At this point, he was towering over you. His shadow cascading over you as you felt yourself shrink into the background. Toji glared at you with his velvet green eyes and a smug grin was plastered across his face. You felt his hand grasp your chin, forcing you to look up at him. Your neck was strained as you attempted to make eye contact with the taller man.

“Can’t you hear woman? I said pretty girls don’t go around saying shit like that. Do I look like a pretty girl to you?” He says as he inches closer to your face. You could smell the beer wafting from his mouth. But the smell was quickly overrun by the rest of him. He smelled like pine, cheap liquor, and…cinnamon? Suddenly, the grip on your chin tightens. His hands are so large, he’s even starting to squish your cheeks, making you look like an absolute fool underneath him.

“I asked you a question, princess.”

The name throws you off guard, but for some reason, you’re not upset.

“S-sorry, no y-you don’t look like a pretty girl. Of course not, m-my bad.”

“That’s what I thought, y/n.”

Toji spits as he releases his grasp on you, standing straight and stretching his arms as he lets out a yawn. He smelled the weed all over you and could tell how flustered you got from your little interaction. He grabs the apple from your hand, taking a huge bite which in turn means you only have about half an apple left. He hands you back your snack, pats your head then saunters over to the couch, plopping down with a grunt. He grabs the remote and turns it to some wrestling show he always watched.

You look at him, confused. You weren’t even staring this time. You were simply dumbfounded at the interaction you two just had. Surely that can’t be it, right? He’s just going to watch tv after he had you literally in the palm of his hand? (and he ate half of my fucking apple)

You move to turn the lights off, and you put your apple in the trash. Your appetite for food was long gone. You quietly walk out of the kitchen into the dim hallway. Toji calls your name, startling you.

“Sleep tight, doll.”

pt. 2

306 notes · View notes

saintslewis · 6 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: party time pt.2? (no <3)

warnings: a bit of angst, crying, reassurance from both sides, a bit shorter than the rest lol.

saint’s team radio 🪩: heyyyy!! so sorry this is long overdue but there’s a reason! i wish i could name this chapter anything but thique but that’s the title of the song and we’re not crying today 🫵🏽 don’t jump me for taking so long lol

pls like, comment and reblog!

fc: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

renaissance: the series • previous chapter

New York had never been more quiet than in that very moment. Nadia wanted to blame it on the fact that the penthouse was far too high up or that it was 2:36 am.

‘Bambi’ played in the background on the large tv, the light illuminating on the many faces in the living room. The friend group had celebrated Lewis’ Silverstone podium since the second they stepped out of the paddock, opting for tonight to be calm and have a group movie night with snacks and all types of pastries (Nadia baked those btw) laid across the table. Everyone was underneath blankets as they watched the tragic scene of Bambi’s mother dying.

Making the terrible mistake of looking at her ever buzzing phone, Nadia could see that Tia tried to contact her within the past few minutes but she internally rolled her eyes. Rea decided to play with her feelings and cause her heart to drop only to find out that the younger girl was lying straight out of her teeth about her marriage being leaked. Wanting nothing to do with social media for the week, Nadia kept herself busy. Spending time with Lewis and spending his money, one of her favourite things to do.

Her job was at stake and she knew that. With each passing day, Nadia’s sudden fame had taken a toll on her and her mental health and she was not sure if she wanted to continue working full time because it was taking a strain on her. She inwardly groaned at the thought of slightly proving her boss right who was consistent in reminding Nadia that this double life was not going to work in her favour.

Swiping further into her phone, she quickly understood why Tia was blowing up her phone.

Time felt slow and her body went numb as she read the headline over and over again. This wasn’t something that was light and airy and she could easily brush off her shoulder with just a flick of her hand. Every piece of jewellery she wore felt heavy, her clothes felt tighter than ever and her blood went cold.

Clearly not being the only one on their phone during the movie, Charlotte’s hair bounced as she snapped her head to her friend who’s tearful eyes were glued to her phone. At first, the woman couldn’t believe what she was seeing but her heart immediately sank when her eyes connected with Nadia’s.

All the food Nadia consumed earlier was rushing back up with intense speed and she quickly threw the blanket off her, running to the nearest bathroom. The blanket landed on Lewis’ confused face as he took it off to whip his head around. The men of the group were utterly confused as all the girls stood to their feet and quickly followed Nadia to wherever she ran to.

Lewis spotted Nadia’s phone on the floor, lifting the screen to his face. His eyes adjusted to the bold words written and as short as the title of the article was, it felt like reading an encyclopaedia written by the vultures within the media.

‘NADIA HAMILTON BATTLES INFERTILITY, ANON SAYS’

The article went on to explain how close the anonymous source was to Nadia, citing that they had kept this secret with themselves for years and hated the new found fame that Nadia attracted. All types of nasty connotations were made against her, calling her out of her name. This anonymous source also spoke on who she saw before Lewis but never exposed their fake marriage.

“Bro..” Andrew spoke up first, all the boys scrolling through their phones and seemingly looking at the same thing. Lewis knew he had to stop himself from reading on after the author wrote that he should divorce her because she’s ‘unable to give him a family’. He quickly locked Nadia’s phone and ran a hand down his face before he stood up to make a few calls.

With her head on Amara’s chest, Nadia wept as she struggled to keep it all together. She did not want to show her vulnerability to her friends so quickly but seeing the headline broke everything she had worked on to be private. Natalia moved Nadia’s hair back as she continued to rub her back.

Charlotte stood with her phone in her hand, immediately shutting down anything that was objectively negative about Nadia. Every single time she heard her friend sob, her heart broke. After what felt like hours of her friends consoling her and encouraging her to stay strong without bugging her for any information, she sat up and wiped her tears.

“Not to chase you guys away but I really wanna see Lewis right now.” She chuckled as she wiped her tears from her cheeks. The girls laughed at their friend’s ability to smile after something so terrible.

“We’ll let him know to bring up some water.” Amara nodded and stood up, giving Nadia’s hand a squeeze. Once her friends left, Nadia began pacing around the bedroom, the New York skyline still shining ever so bright although it was nearing 3 am.

She heard the door and she watched as Lewis walked in with a water bottle in his hand, his ring catching light from the ceiling lights. His eyes landed on her, cheeks hollowed with her trying to breathe as easily as she could, her hands shaking.

Eyes connected and neither of them had to say a word. He brought her head into his chest as her arms went around his waist. Nadia sighed softly as she leaned into her husband’s warmth. “I’ve sorted everything out, baby. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” He spoke, keeping his hands still as his voice vibrated through his chest.

Nadia sniffled before she spoke. “Thanks,” her voice quivered. “I didn’t want you to find out like this. Wanted to be the first one to tell you, you know.” She chuckled through her tears.

“None of this is your fault, love. Please don’t blame yourself, you have done nothing wrong and we’ll get through this together.” Lewis said. “We could try find out who-”

“It was my mom and Rea.” She deadpanned, lifting her head to look in his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed at the quickness of her revelation. “Nads.” He started.

All she did was look at the bed and he took that as a hint to sit on it and she followed. “I’ve only ever told my mother and Rea about my…infertility. Not even my friends. My mom found out through a fight we were having during high school.”

She took a breather and continued. “I completely changed my career path to become a teacher because if I couldn’t become a mom myself, I could be that teacher for my kids. I love those kids more than anything in the world, Lewis. When you introduced me to Willow and Kaiden, my heart was already attached the second I saw them so if we didn’t work out, I was going to feel like absolute shit.”

“To do this properly. Lewis, I am infertile and I won’t be able to have kids with you in the future because of my shitty anatomy.” Nadia finished with a smile gracing her face, always finding a way to lift the mood.

He didn’t want to smile but it crept it’s way on his face. Lewis reached his hand to hold hers. “Love, you are something else,” he chuckled. “I never want you to worry about me in this circumstance, I still want you for you. For everything. You’re my family and I never regret signing those papers, Nads.” Lewis finished, his gaze softening as she looked at him.

The tension in the air eased but there was still a lingering feeling hanging. This was an extremely vulnerable moment for Nadia and she was feeling all types of emotions. Lewis didn’t want to invade on her feelings and make her uncomfortable as she dealt with all this. She deserved the best, if she asked, he would give her the universe. He’d build a kingdom and worship her as his queen.

Feeling her manicured finger poke as his exposed shoulder, he snapped out of it to see a smile on her face. “I thought I lost you there, bruv.” Nadia smiled, her eyes swirling with so many emotions.

A beat or two passed.

“I love you.” Lewis blurted out.

Lewis Hamilton wasn’t someone who usually got nervous. He was learning to express his emotions to people around him and was confident in himself at most times. Now was one of those time where he felt his stomach become queasy, his hands suddenly feeling sweaty and he swore he felt the world had stopped spinning.

Nadia was taken aback at his sudden confession but never showed it on her face. If anything, she felt as if Cupid shot her with a heart shaped arrow. Her body felt warm and relaxed, the butterflies swarming as if her crush just looked at her and smiled. Her cheeks felt tight as she full on grinned.

“I love you too.” She confessed and Lewis swore his world became brighter as she spoke those magical three words. He couldn’t believe it. “Say it again. Please say it again, my love.” His accent became a tad bit stronger as he spoke, his large hands enveloping her smaller ones.

Nadia laughed. “I love you, Lewis.”

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to tell you that. I love you so much, Nadia Thandeka Hamilton and never forget that, my angel.” He scooped her up into a hug, falling back into the bed in a giggling mess.

Nadia’s hands were stuck in her hoodie pockets when she stepped out of the bathroom, her face feeling fresh as ever as she had just taken off a new face mask she had wanted to try out.

Los Angeles was a place she would definitely call home if she chose to settle down in that very moment. The couple had flown over after two days of friendship therapy and a crazy amount of ice cream as a way to distract her from touching her phone.

The woman had no clue of what was going on surrounding her and that damned article but one thing she did know was that her ears were not deceiving her.

She had known that Lewis always woke up before her as a force of habit but he had vowed to not wake her up until she was ready to. She even moved her hood to hear properly.

The faint sounds of Minnie Riperton’s ‘Lovin’ You’ rang throughout the house speakers but the volume was clearly amplified in the living room. With her eyebrows furrowed, her ugg boot clad feet slowly led her through the hallway and right downstairs.

Her breath felt like it had been snatched out of her as she looked at the current state of her living room. Pink balloons were scattered across the roof and the floor, two bouquets of tiger lilies sat pretty on the coffee table along with several, several boxes from all her favourite brands. From small boxes to large bags beautifully arranged with a small note sat within the bouquet.

“Oh my god…” Nadia’s hand was over her mouth as she walked further into her living room, not even noticing that Lewis entered from the kitchen with his hands behind his back. “Hope you like it, love. Wanted to make it perfect for you.” He licked his lips as he watched his wife glide her hand all over the bags.

“Like it? I’m absolutely speechless, Lewis.” She softly spoke. “You’ve just…oh my days. You make me feel like a princess.” Nadia turned to look at him. “You tellin me all I have to do is tell you that I love you?” She joked.

“You existing is enough for me.” He spoke. “Boy.” She laughed. “Tryna make me blush knowing damn well I can’t.”

“Well, yes and no.” He scrunched his nose then chuckled with her. A beat or two passed before she spoke. “Let me say thank you.” She tilted her head as her hand went under his simple black shirt.

“Oh?” Lewis expressed. She didn’t have to say anything except look up at him and give him a smirk then he was ready to go.

“Say less, Mrs Hamilton.”

lewishamilton

liked by charlottiee, fencer and 2,394,447 others

lewishamilton the mrs. 🤍

view comments

nadiahamilton i love you

lewishamilton i love you more

user lord, guide this type of love to me

megantheestallion absolute cuties 🥹

fencer la familia!

serenawilliams my favs! 👑🤍

user aren’t they going to speak about everything?

user they don’t owe you anything!

sza 💗💗💗💗

saint’s notes: long overdue. love you guys!

tags: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @henneseyhoe @saturnville

if your account is blank, that means tumblr can’t find you!

#saint writes #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton angst #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x oc #f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 imagine

295 notes · View notes

aesthetically-dying101 · 26 days ago

Text

Law of Attraction (part 6; End)

A/N:hereeee we are. okay so misery, sad moments, angst with a happy ending, smut, this is wayyyy too long idk, i tried.

nanami is a menace, lowkey whore behaviour.

MINORS GO AWAY PLS, this is sfw, ending is smut tho so..

-protected sex (wrap ur shit up), cunnilingus, bit of body worship, light bondage, soft smut cause i didn't feel like writting them jumping each others bones, also might bad cause uhhh i don't write smut very often, also very unrealistic, but reality is boring so

Other parts: 1, 2 , 3 , 4 , 5

Masterlist

The blaring of your alarm at 2:20 PM jolted you awake like a bucket of ice water. You shot up, bleary-eyed and disoriented, before the realization hit you: Nanami.

Coffee.

Oh shit.

You fumbled for your phone, swiping off the alarm with a groggy slap, and immediately cursed yourself. How had you slept so long? You barely had ten minutes. The panic set in quickly as you swung your legs over the bed and stumbled to your feet, tripping over the blanket that had cocooned you all night.

“Okay, okay, clothes.” You mumbled, yanking open a drawer with more force than necessary. What did people wear for casual, not-really-dates-but-kind-of hangouts? Sweatpants? No. Jeans? Probably. But you couldn’t find any clean ones because, of course, laundry day was overdue.

You finally settled on a pair of black sweatpants and an oversized band tee that was slightly wrinkled but still looked decent enough to not scream, I just woke up fifteen seconds ago.

You darted into the bathroom, scrubbing at your face with cold water in an attempt to wake up fully. The reflection staring back at you wasn’t great, but it wasn’t terrible either. You ran your fingers through your hair, hoping to tame it into something resembling presentable, and slapped on some lip balm for good measure.

Before you could overthink it, a knock sounded at the door.

Already? Your heart jumped, and you froze in place, staring at the door like it might bite you. “Coming!” you called out, your voice still raspy from sleep. You crossed the room, hoping it would cover any signs of how unprepared you were.

You opened the door to find Nanami standing there, holding two cups of coffee in a tray like some kind of saviour. His crisp shirt was slightly rumpled, and he had a soft, almost shy smile on his face that made your stomach flip.

“Good afternoon,” he said, his tone polite but warm, his eyes doing a quick sweep over you. If he noticed your rushed appearance, he didn’t say anything. “I brought coffee. Thought you might need it after the late night.”

You blinked, trying to shake off your grogginess, and stepped aside to let him in. “You’re a literal lifesaver,” you said, voice still gravelly. “Come in before I start crying over caffeine deprivation.”

He chuckled lightly as he stepped inside, and you tried not to melt at the sound. It was almost embarrassing how quickly your nerves turned to something softer when you were around him. But, God, it was Nanami. Could anyone blame you?

You stepped back to let him in, a tiny part of you aware that you probably looked like a walking disaster. But you couldn’t care about that right now.

Coffee.

Sweet, sweet coffee.

"Thanks," you said, your voice much too soft as you stared at the cups like they might solve all your problems—especially the big, glaring one that was currently standing awkwardly in your dorm. You’re not good enough for him. You’re not good enough for him.

“No problem,” he replied, setting the tray down on your desk and sitting on your bed like it was the most comfortable spot in the world. “You’ve been working hard. I thought you might need a little pick-me-up.”

You awkwardly shuffled in place, feeling your cheeks flush. Why are you being so nice to me? You wanted to ask, but it came out as an uncomfortable cough instead.

“So, uh…” you started, trying to sound casual even though your stomach was twisting like you’d just eaten a brick.

Nanami looked at you for a moment before setting his coffee cup down, his expression softening, almost like he was thinking carefully about his next words. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.”

Great. Talk.

You internally braced yourself. This could only go one of two ways: 1) Awkwardly or 2) Awkwardly with a side of rejection. You knew you weren’t going to like this.

His tone was calm, but there was an unmistakable seriousness in his eyes.

"I think I like you," he said. “Like... more than just as a friend. More than just a study partner, you know?”

And that’s when you froze.

Wait, what?

You blinked, your brain completely short-circuiting. He... liked you? Nanami Kento liked you? The guy who always looked so collected, so perfect, liked you?

You stared at him, completely speechless. And when the silence stretched on for too long, you started to feel like maybe you were the one who was living in some alternate reality.

“Are you—Are you sure? Like, really sure?” Your voice came out far too squeaky for your liking. Your mind kept replaying his words like some kind of broken record. Nanami likes you. Nanami likes you. Nanami...

“Yeah,” he continued, and you swore you could see a tiny blush creeping up on his face. “I like you. I know we’re different, but I really enjoy spending time with you. You’re interesting, and you’re funny, and—I—uh..."

He was rambling now. He was absolutely rambling, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop staring at him like he was some kind of strange, beautiful alien who had just landed on your planet.

“I mean, I—I’m sorry if that’s weird, or too forward, or—" He kept talking, clearly getting more flustered the longer you stood there, not saying anything. "It’s just that—well, I really like you. And if that makes you uncomfortable, I absolutely understand. If you need space, I will gladly do so."

You blinked again. Is this a prank?

The panic spread, cold and sharp.

The thought that maybe—just maybe—this was some elaborate joke crossed your mind, and you could feel your stomach sink.

“Wait,” you said, furrowing your brow, trying to make sense of it. “Are you messing with me? Like... am I being punked or something?”

And there it was—the worst case scenario—and now your insides felt like they were being twisted into knots. You could hear the growing unease in Nanami’s voice as he stammered, “No, I—wait, no, I’m not messing with you! I’m serious. I like you. Really. I wouldn’t—"

But you weren’t listening anymore. Your mind had already taken a sharp dive into the worst possible conclusion.

You took a step back, feeling like your heart was about to explode out of your chest, and Nanami looked like he was about to retreat, the awkwardness radiating off him in waves. "Maybe this is too much," he said, sounding uncertain. "I should just—"

Oh no.

You couldn’t let him leave. You couldn’t let this moment slip away. Your heart was pounding so loud in your ears, you didn’t even think twice before grabbing the tie of his shirt, pulling him toward you.

You kissed him.

It wasn’t slow or cautious. It wasn’t some perfectly timed moment from a rom-com. It was messy and desperate, and it tasted like the fear and adrenaline that had been surging through your body since the moment he’d walked through the door.

And when you pulled back, your lips were still buzzing with the kiss. You looked up at him—eyes wide, trying to read his face for any hint of... disappointment? Confusion? Whatever it was, it was gone in an instant when he looked at you.

You swallowed hard. “Sorry. I—uh, I’m just really bad at handling feelings and... stuff.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at you, probably still trying to comprehend what had just happened.

But then, he smiled. Just the faintest little smile, as though he’d finally seen the truth.

“You’re not bad at anything,” he said softly, brushing a hand against your cheek before taking a small step back, his voice soft but steady. “You’re just you. And I like you. All of you.”

You blinked again, still trying to process.

"Wait-" You lifted your hand, putting the pads of your index and ring fingers against his oh so soft lips (you were never going to recover from this). "When's your next class??"

"In three hours."

And with that, you crashed against him again.

*-*

You could happily say Nanami Kento was also perfect at making out because DAMN, it made your head spin. This man was ridiculously perfect.

You watched as he shed his suit jacket- folding it neatly over your chair (nerd). You giggled to yourself, which made him lift a brow as he slooooowly begun to undo his tie (evil man, he knew what he was doing.)

"What?" He asked.

"You're folding your clothes."

"I am. Wouldn't want to get them wrinkled."

You snorted. "Right."

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to hold back the smile that was threatening to break out. "Such a good little boy," you teased, watching as Nanami finished undoing his tie with deliberate slowness.

He paused for a second, glancing over at you with a raised brow.

"Well, I can't be running around like a mess," he said, his voice teasing, but his eyes sharp with amusement. "And you should try it sometime, you know. Not everything has to be chaos."

"Yeah, right. I like my chaos. It’s more fun."

Nanami finished with his cuffs, then gave you a pointed look, as if considering something. Slowly, he began unbuttoning his shirt, each movement deliberate, controlled—way too controlled. When his shirt was undone enough to reveal his white undershirt (yet the button up shirt wasn't completely off-urgh), he stopped and met your gaze. Tease.

“I think you should be more careful too,” he said, his voice lowering just a little, something a bit darker slipping into it. “I don’t want to see you getting too... messy."

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if you'd heard him right.

"Oh, you don’t want me to get messy, huh?" You asked, folding your arms, playing it off like it was no big deal, though your heart rate definitely picked up.

He smirked at your teasing, a glint of amusement in his eyes. But then, in that soft, but commanding voice that sent a shiver down your spine, Nanami suddenly said, “Sit. On the couch. Now.”

Your mouth went dry at the sudden shift in his tone. The command was low and certain, and you blinked at him in disbelief. Was he serious?

But one look at his face—serious, even the tiniest bit amused—and you knew he was. The heat that had began to pool, and suddenly you felt all too hot. You blinked again, and before you could even process it, you were standing up and making your way to the couch.

"What’s this? The couch?" you muttered to yourself, half-expecting to hear him laugh, but the way he was looking at you, his eyes intense, made it clear that wasn’t the joke here. His lips curled into a small, sly grin as you sat, and you could feel the heat creeping into your cheeks.

And then, with a deliberate, slow motion, he took his tie off completely. You watched in a mixture of awe and pure, unfiltered want as he turned the tie in his hands like it was a weapon, or something far more dangerous than it should be.

Your heart raced in your chest as you watched him walk toward you, your body tensing. You knew something was coming, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

First your shirt seemed to simply de-materialise from your body.

Gone.

His gaze paused at your chest, his eyebrow quirked ever so slightly at your pierced nipples.

"Piercing trifecta." You squeaked. A joke? Really? Now? "Cause it makes a triangle, y'know? The nipple piercings and the belly button?"

He paused in front of you, ignoring your dumb joke, his gaze never leaving yours as he casually draped the tie over your wrists. What?

"Nanami, what are you—" you started, but he was already securing the knot, expertly binding your wrists together with the soft fabric of his tie. Your brain short-circuited as you blinked up at him, your pulse skipping wildly.

“Relax,” he said quietly, his voice a velvet purr now that made your insides melt, and you could’ve sworn the world stopped spinning as his hands hovered over your wrists. "I’m not going to hurt you."

Oh, you knew that.

But you were still blushing so hard it felt like your face was on fire. It was so unexpected. So much more than you ever expected.

His eyes were watching you intently, and you could see how deliberate his actions were.

He knew.

He knew how much he was affecting you right now, and the worst part was... you couldn't even stop it.

You bit your lip, trying to keep it together, but you couldn’t help the small whimper that slipped out when you tugged at your bound wrists, the fabric holding you in place.

Oh shit.

Nanami’s smirk grew, and you hated how much you loved it. You immediately ducked your head behind your hands, desperate to hide your red face.

This is too much, you thought to yourself. Way too much.

But then Nanami knelt down in front of you, his tie still secured around your wrists. His voice was soft, gentle, almost... teasing. “I knew it,” he murmured. "You like being told what to do. To have someone else take the lead."

You almost choked on your own spit.

"I—" You cut yourself off, a flurry of words tangled in your head. You couldn’t even make a joke to deflect. The intense heat in your face was enough to make you want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

And Nanami was just sitting there, the most confident man you’d ever met, and somehow, you could feel his words hitting you like a punch.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice so close now, you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “I’m not going to do anything you don’t want.”

But your pulse was already racing. God, what is happening to me right now? You stared up at him in complete silence for what felt like a lifetime. Is he joking? Am I being pranked?

Nanami, sensing your hesitance, seemed to falter for a moment. The playful edge in his eyes softened, and suddenly, there was a nervous, unsure shift in him. His hands moved to loosen the tie, but before he could, you grabbed it—your grip tightening, pulling him closer.

You couldn’t help it. You just... couldn’t. Your body moved without you thinking, and you kissed him.

And God, it was so much more than you expected. Nanami’s lips were soft, firm, and you could taste the sweetness of his breath as his hands gently cupped your face. The kiss deepened, and you felt like you were melting into him, your earlier confusion forgotten in an instant.

You had no idea what was happening, but whatever it was, you were pretty sure you didn’t want it to stop.

When you two separated, Nanami had to stop himself from laughing.

"You look.. frazzled."

You blinked.

"That's your dirty talk?" You blurted out, as if the butterflies in your stomach weren't currently competing on which one of them could do the most cartwheels.

Nanami's lips twitched, clearly fighting back a laugh as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“No,” he murmured, voice dropping into something lower, smoother, “that was an observation.”

You blinked again, your brain short-circuiting for the second time tonight. Observation? Who says that after a kiss like that? A kiss that had your pulse doing Olympic-level gymnastics and your knees threatening to give out?

"What do you want me to say? I'm not here to impress you with words, (Y/N). I'm here to make you feel it."

God, this man was insufferable. But in the best possible way. Your heart raced, your brain scrambled for a response, but the butterflies in your stomach were wild, flipping and spinning in all directions.

Huh, maybe they're in a blender.

"You're really playing it cool, huh?" you tried to tease, trying to take back some control. "What are you, some kind of sex god or something?"

The words came out sharper than you intended, as if you were daring him to make a move—though part of you was regretting that challenge the moment it left your lips. Nanami’s eyes darkened slightly, a devilish grin curling on his lips, and in the blink of an eye, he grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off the couch without any warning.

You let out a startled laugh, half-shocked, half-amused, but before you could say a word, he plopped you down on the bed with an ease that made your stomach do an even bigger flip.

“Wha—” You blinked up at him, eyes wide in surprise. “Excuse me? Did you just—”

He hovered over you, that smirk still playing on his lips, but now it was filled with an intense heat.

"You think I'm a 'sex god'?" he asked, throwing your words right back at you, in a voice that was dangerously smooth. "Let me show you what I can do."

Your mouth went dry.

That teasing edge in his voice? The confident way he just dropped you onto the bed like you were nothing more than a feather?

Yeah, you definitely miscalculated this one. You could feel the weight of his presence pressing down on you as he leaned closer, and suddenly, you weren’t so sure of yourself anymore.

He leant down and kissed you again, this time it was a bit sweeter, as if to say "Chill, everything will be fine."

You weren’t sure when your pants had disappeared, but somehow you were left in nothing but your underwear, tits out, heart racing, and, well—distracted. Completely distracted by the sight in front of you.

The fucker had started to strip, removing his annoyingly perfect shirt.

He was lean but built—muscles defined without being overdone, the kind of body that came from actual discipline, not just some casual gym session. And damn, did it look good on him.

And you, like a dumbfounded deer, just sat there on the bed, staring. Staring at every inch of his defined chest, the sharp lines of muscle that stretched over his broad frame. Holy hell, you thought, your mouth drying. This man was... insane.

“You work out,” you blurted, completely unable to stop yourself. “What the fuck.”

You had to give yourself some credit for the fact that it was the first thing that came out of your mouth. In your defence, the man was a literal god of muscle and structure.

And maybe it was the moment, or the nerves, but you could’ve sworn you were glued to him—everything about his body was... insane.

Sculpted.

Toned in ways that made your brain short-circuit. His chest, his arms, the way his muscles flexed when he moved—it was like he belonged in a museum or something.

"You're cute when you're surprised," he said, his voice a quiet, sweet, low murmur.

But, God, you were still processing.

"I—" You stammered, heart racing, mind spinning. "You didn’t—"

He raised an eyebrow, cutting you off before you could finish your sentence. “Didn’t expect me to look like this?” he asked, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You couldn’t help the flush creeping up your neck. "I—uh, no. Not really."

Fucker removed his pants and.. just stood there in his boxers- books. There was tiny books on his boxers.

Is awooga? A good descriptive?

Because that's how you felt.

"Stop." You blurted out. And he did, a bit of concern in his eyes.

"Is everything-"

"Oh yeah. Just uh..." Your eyes racked over his half naked body and he chuckled. "Do you keep your glasses on? During sex I mean?"

That took him by surprise.

"Like don't they fog up?" As if your clarification was going to help anyone.

He looked genuinely intrigued by your curiosity, but there was a glint in his eyes that suggested he wasn’t exactly offended by your bluntness.

"Fogged up?" he repeated, his voice low and teasing. "I suppose they could, but I’ve never had that problem."

You blinked, and you were temped to snicker and call him a whore. But hey. No judgement here.

You fumbled, trying to cover your tracks.

"I mean, it just seems like they would. You know, all the... uh, movement and stuff. I don't know how people keep them on."

Nanami’s smirk deepened as he leaned in closer again, his breath warm against your skin.

"Well, I don’t think I’ve ever had an issue with them being in the way. Besides," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, "I think I can focus just fine with or without them."

He grabbed your still bound hand, easily undoing the knot- only the just tie your wrist to the wooden headboard.

"Still okay?" He whispered.

How could he be so horrendously hot.

You nodded enthusiastically.

"Words." He basically growled.

"Yeah it's okay." You squeaked almost immediately, he smiled affectionately and pecked your cheek.

"Good. Tell me if I go too far okay?"

"Yup. Yep. Mhm."

He nipped down your jaw- fuck Aiko was so gonna know.

"Still with me?" He asked when he got to the level of your chest. He had been eyeing your piercings with interest. He brushed the pad of his thumb against your pierced nipple and you sucked in a sharp breath.

You nodded, and he opened his mouth to reprimand you but:

"Yes. Yes Kento I'm still with you."

Nanami hummed in content and you could've just died. His soft lips kissed over your heart, and your face was on fire. But hey, a pretty man was touching your tits, so.. heat pooled in your lower stomach.

His tongue slipped out and flicked the underside of your breast. His mouth moved lower to kiss and bite along your side. He wanted to pay attention to every part of you, even the bruised flesh from the stab. Everything about you was beautiful to him.

"So alluring.." He murmured and you tried so hard not to laugh but..

"Kento- what??" You snickered. "Oh c'mon, alluring?"

Nanami lifted a brow, "What is up with you and my choice of words?"

"You sound like a nerd trying to flirt, t's terrible." You grinned. Nanami clicked his tongue in mock annoyance, softly biting your supple flesh, you gave him a falsely appalled look.

You watched, getting somehow more flustered by the second as Nanami made his way down, down, he paused, looking up at you:

"I-Woah- Are you sure-"

You groaned loudly: "Kento-god why -"

"You're quite red."

You blinked, and you simply wanted to shrink into your bed.

"Well.. so what?"

Nanami chuckled, his thumbs hooked in your underwear, he tapped his pointer fingers against your hips, signalling for you to lift your hips, which you did.

And phwoop, there goes your underwear.

"You're so beautiful." He murmured, he kissed the soft of your lower belly. You stuttered a bit, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot.

"I got you okay?"

"Mhm-y-yeah. Wait- are.. uh. are you like..?"

Nanami tilted his head, his breath warm against your sensitive folds:

"Going to eat you out? Yes. If you allow me of course."

The way he spoke made you want to explode.

With horniness obviously.

His eyes never once looked away, watching how your body moved. His lips pressed against your thighs with a sweet kiss on each.

"Uh.. yeah sure if-"

And you sighed softly as you felt his mouth on your heat and goddammit that man was just as talented at speeches and at eating you out.

"Fucking hell-" You gasped out.

Nanami chuckled and your arms struggled against the bonds. God you wanted to touch him. You couldn't care about anything else in the world, not when he was twisting his tongue as far as he could up your way-too- wet cunt. His hands were rubbing your thighs gently, running over your soft skin. His tongue probed your opening and teased at you.

Nanami's tongue went back inside, tasting and rubbing in just the right spots. His hands continued to grip your thighs and hold your legs open.

You were all he ever wanted. Nanami kept up his slow pace, letting you relax in the feeling. (And yes, his glasses had fogged up ever so slightly).

"Fuck-Kento.. ah-"

"Still with me?" He purred as he nipped at the soft of your thigh. You nodded furiously, gulping:

"Yeah, yeah- god you're so-" Your sentence died into a moan, that evil, evil man dragged his ring finger from your lower stomach, over your clit and into your folds with a soft wet noise, filling you out so very perfectly.

"Ah.. fuck.."

After a few more minutes, Nanami started to feel you tighten around him. He kept up his movements and licked a little harder but still slow.

Smug bastard grinned.

Every taste of you added fuel to the fire in his gut. He presses a kiss to your clit as he added a second finger.

But it's fine, it's fine.

"God you're so pretty f'me." He groaned, sounding like a starved man eating cake.

Nope. Not fine. Holy shit.

He doesn't stop, kissing- fuck even nibbling your clit, his fingers moving perfectly. His right hand was the one working into you, all while his left hand kept your hips angled in a damn bruising hold.

"Ah-" You barely managed to gasp out.

Nanami felt you tighten around his fingers, and with a finally press of his soft fucking lips against your clit, you whined. The tension inside you snapped, it wasn't a crashing orgasm, it was soft and warm and.. so.. Nanami- who gave a soft groan as he lapped up your essence with his tongue, licking you through the aftershocks.

Once your breathing had slowed, Nanami pressed a few last teasing kisses along your inner thighs before looking up at your face. His own eyes were full of lust, but his expression was soft as he looked into your eyes.

"Fuck you're stunning." He murmured, popping those two fingers in his mouth, licking them clean. "Still with me?"

You nodded, desperatly, "Uh.. yeah- fuck you're good."

Nanami snickered, but smiled softly:

"Thank you, pretty. You're too kind."

You traced the vein that ran down his forearm with your eyes, like some greek sculpture-god you wanted to bite him. He frowned ever so slightly:

"I.. I'm afraid that's all I can do. Or I can eat you out again if you wish."

You blinked.

"Huh?"

"I didn't come to your dorm expecting to have sex so I didn't bring a condom-"

You stared at him for a second then let out a breathy laugh:

"Oh that's it? I thought you were saying you weren't hard anymore-"

He looked shocked, "Never-"

"Let me finish my sentence-there's a pack in my nightstand, since you've so nicely tied me to the bed, please get them."

Nanami, like a perfect little soldier, did exactly that. He stood and-oh. Oh he was that.. hard. God. Okay. What the fuck.

And then boom.

No more boxers and oh-.

Oh no.

Not fair.

"What the fuck Kento." Was the only thing you could even think of saying, because genuinely- whose dick is that pretty??? He blinked, looking down then back up, poor man looked unsure of himself-almost.. ashamed.

"I must admit, I've had better reactions-"

"No! Nonono-not what I meant-.. but.. like.." You sighed, letting out a small laugh, "You have a very pretty dick."

It was true.

And the worse part? Everything about him was so damn pretty, he has a small happy trail-it was all so neat.

Your wrists dug into the soft fabric of his tie. God you wanted to touch him so fucking bad.

"Oh.. well I.. groom quite a lot-"

You groaned, loudly. "Pleassseeeee lemme give you head-"

"No."

"But-"

"I will cum imidietely so no. I'd like to make you cum at least once more." He paused as he took the condom out of the wrapper, lifting a brow, "Pink and glittery?"

You pressed your lips in a fine line.

"Listen. Don't judge- and it was Aiko's idea."

"Of course." Nanami sighed, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, then his teeth bit lightly along your neck, leaving love bites everywhere they could. One of his hands moved from your hip to slide between your bodies. His long, cool fingers rubbed against your heat and did a little spread motion.

"You're so perfect for me," he murmured against your skin. Nanami kept his hips pressed close to yours so his length would rub through your folds, your wetness leaking all over him.

You had to bite the inside of your cheeks as Nanami's fingers continued their ministrations, and his thumb began to rub teasing circles over your clit.

You mewled softly, still pretty damn sensitive after that first orgasm.

He pressed the head against your heat and slowly slid inside. Nanami bit his lip to hold back a loud moan and his jaw clenched as he fought to restrain himself. His breathing became short and ragged as he filled you to absolute perfection. Your pussy made slight squelching sound, every curve of his cock fitting snugly.

"F-fuck, you're amazing," he gasped. "So pretty- so perfect."

He moved, gently thrusting in and out, short, shallow thrusts that simply were sending you to heaven. Nanami panted, resting his forehead against yours. From here you could see the delicate eyeslashes, the way they batted ever so slighty at ever movement, ever gasp.. fuck this was heaven?

You had died and gone to heaven. Must be it.

You took a deep breath in, and he readjusted himself, and you let out a manic giggle. He looked at you curiously- flushed, but curious.

"What?"

"Fuck I've got the greatest view on this planet." You answered, almost dreamily, your eyes racking up his body in appreciation. "I don't think I'll ever get over how hot you are."

Nanami chuckled, his hips still moving in shallow thrusts, letting you accommodate for his.. size.

"I could say the same for you sweetheart."

Nanami was struggling to breathe properly, but he gritted his teeth. Of course he did. His face and heaving chest fucking flushed. Oh he looked so pretty.

His hands went from your hips, up to your waist, to your chest, touching everything he could.

He rolled his hips a bit more and thats when your mind simply.. went blank. You felt nothing but a warm, fuzzy feeling, that completely overtook you.

"S'pretty.." You barely heard Nanami mumble as he picked up the pace. Your jaw went slack, the rough pad of his thumb toyed with already sensitive clit.

Your entire body seemed to be following his lead, it felt so damn good. The warm, buzzing feeling intensified, your thighs squeezed around his hips and he chuckled:

"Feels good?"

"M'yeah.." You nodded, your arms straining against the tie knot again, his pace wasn't fast, but fuck he was going deep- paired with how much he was touching your clit, you weren't far from another orgasm.

"Oh sweatheart you're squeezing me so hard.." Nanami mumbled, his hips snapping against yours a bit harder, the sound of skin on skin was getting louder- harder.

"Should've told you sooner-ah. M'sorry pretty girl." He mumbled, looking down at you- eh, mostly your tits, he was mesmerised.

You didn't have the brain capacity to answer, your thoughts were completely blank, and this smug evil little shit kept hitting that same spot, again and again and again-

"Fuuckkk, you're close pretty?"

You blinked up at him, barely registering, but after a beat, you nodded. His hold on your hips was bruising, his left hand felt almost searing against your already flushed skin.

But a pinch to your clit made you refocus-how mean.

"Yeah- yeah." You chocked out. You knew he could tell, your walls were already twitching around him, squeezing him, as if you were trying to memorise his shape, every vein, every inch of him.

His left hand slammed on the headboard, near your bound hands and oh- the absolutly amazing view of him, panting, flushed, and look at that body.

But before you could try to even say anything, he kissed you, a messy, desperate kiss, his teeth nipping your bottom lip.

And his cruel right hand kept working on your clit, every moan, whimper or groan he swallowed completely, it felt like he was everywhere at once.

The orgasm that he tore out of you felt like your consciousness had literally been ripped from your body for a solid couple seconds. You were aware he came quickly after you, strangled groans against your lips, but barely so.

"...?"

You blinked, barely aware he had just spoken.

"Huh?" You gasped out. He tiredly chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"I asked if you were okay, you were looking quite spacey on me."

"M'good, great even."

He let a breathy laugh against you, he pressed a quick kiss against your lips. "Thank you sweetheart." He murmured.

"Hm? What for?"

"Just.. you." He answered, kissing your cheek. He pulled away, his hands quickly undoing the tie knot that had kept your hands bound. "I didn't hurt you did I?"

"No, not at all." You answered as he checked your wrists for any harm. He kissed the inside of each of your wrists. He stood, and you winced a little as he slipped out of you.

"Sorry." He immediately said as he saw you wince. "Are you-"

"M'fine Ken, don't worry."

He offered his hand, which you gladly took, he helped you to your small shower, he rolled the door open.

"How warm do you like your showers?"

"Hot." You answered, your legs honestly felt numb and shaky.

"Great." Nanami snorted. He turned the knobs, and gestured for you to get in, which you did, he followed closely behind... and ironically, his frame took everything up. You giggled a bit, your cheeks still flushed. He tilted his head, silently asking what.

You shook your head, simply enjoying the hot water. Nanami seemed to be wanting to stay as far as possible from the water.

"Hydrophobic are you?" You asked, looking over your shoulder.

"I'm enjoying the view and anyways, that water of yours is boiling."

You rolled your eyes, turning around. "You men are so sensitive."

Nanami chuckled, watching you carefully as you soaped him up. Your hands running over his muscles and ooooh he was so very pretty.

"Lavender soap?"

"Yup." You popped the p.

The shower was rather short, you tugged some sweatpants and a shirt on. You watched him go through his little rituals, but he still looked somewhat.. frazzled.

"Lookin' frazzled Kento." You noted. "You sure you gonna go to class like that?"

"I'm quite sure, wouldn't want to miss class." Nanami's eyebrow quirked at the word. "Frazzled huh? Copycat."

Nanami chuckled softly as you stuck your tongue out at him, the glint of your piercing catching the light. He finished buttoning up his shirt, looking infuriatingly put together despite the mess you'd just made of each other.

Meanwhile, you were standing there in your sweats, suddenly hyper-aware of the lines of your body under the shirt and his lingering gaze.

The doubts crept in like unwelcome guests. Was that... it?

He was calmly buttoning up his shirt, moving with that infuriatingly composed grace, as if the two of you hadn’t just… well. Fucked.

Meanwhile, you were a mess.

Overthinking everything, running through every possible scenario in your head. Did this mean something? Was this just a one-time thing for him? He was too polite to say it outright if it was, wasn’t he?

You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself.

“So… uh.” You crossed your arms, leaning against the dresser. “This was… nice.”

Nice? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?

Nanami glanced over, his lips twitching slightly like he was holding back a smile. He paused, his gaze locking on yours. He tilted his head, studying you, and before you could second-guess your choice of words, he was stepping closer. His hands—big, warm, and annoyingly perfect—cupped your face gently.

“Nice?” he repeated, voice soft but teasing. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

“Well, yeah, I mean…” You avoided his gaze, feeling heat creep up your neck. “I don’t really know where we—what this…” You trailed off, floundering, feeling like an idiot.

He cut you off with a kiss, silencing the storm of thoughts in your head with the simple press of his lips. It was gentle, reassuring, and left you breathless.

When he pulled back, he pressed a second kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he was trying to tell you something without words.

“Date night tonight,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of certainty. “Whatever you want.”

You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Date night,” he repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You pick. I’ll be there.”

Your heart felt like it might actually explode. “Are you serious?”

He arched an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Of course. Unless you’d rather not?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean—” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m messing this up, aren’t I?”

Nanami chuckled, gently pulling your hands away from your face. “You’re not messing anything up.” He kissed the corner of your mouth, soft and sweet. “Seven o’clock?”

You nodded, unable to trust yourself to speak without tripping over your words again.

He stepped back, picking up his bag like it was just any other day, but the warmth in his gaze said otherwise. “I’ll see you then.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you standing there, heart pounding and mind racing.

You blinked as the silence filled the room, you turned on your heels and fuck your room was a mess, especially the bed, you definitely needed to change the sheets-

BAM!

Your door slammed open with the kind of force that made you jump.

"Okay, fucking spill.”

Aiko stood there, wild-eyed and practically vibrating with excitement.

“Aiko,” you sighed, hand flying to your chest in an attempt to slow your heart. “I love you, but I’m this close—” You pinched your fingers together for emphasis. “—to having a heart attack.”

She ignored you entirely, storming into the room and slamming the door shut behind her.

“He left, like, two seconds ago,” she hissed, “and you’re just standing here?! Explain. Now. Everything. Did you two—” She wiggled her eyebrows in the most suggestive way possible.

“Yes, we did, okay? And now we have a date tonight, and I think I’m going to spontaneously combust before then.”

Aiko gasped like she’d just been handed the best gossip of her life. “A date? Oh my god, you’re finally becoming a normal human being!”

You threw a pillow at her. “Shut up and help me clean, or I’m canceling it.”

She cackled but started gathering the scattered clothes anyway. “Fine, but you’re telling me everything while we do this.”

You sighed. It was going to be a long afternoon.

A/N: im so sorry idk how to write smut, tbh i was hella tempted to just write: they fucked. the end. Idk if i'll write smut again, this is bad

#nanami x reader #jjk nanami #fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu nanami #jjk #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento x you #jjk au #smut #aesthetically dying101

114 notes · View notes