#v ; pretty handsome awkward

[kerothi]

@astutior | continued from x

It's already been such a great night. Their first big gig — A real gig. At a concert, not a bar. With people that came because they paid for the tickets, not just for the closest and most convenient pint they could get their hands on. Sure, the tickets weren't bought for them. They were only the openers of the night, the band that's thrown out there to fill the time and entertain the masses until the real show was ready to start. But it was still an amazing opportunity! And such an incredible experience as well...

Jean had spent the rest of the night practically vibrating, still awestruck at the sight of that large a crowd when he wasn't being completely blinded by the spotlights, and the roar of applause his band had gotten when it was finally time to get off the stage.

He was psyched.

He was still psyched when the real show was over and the girls had finally finished their set as well. That's probably what had given Jean enough confidence in the first place to actually approach one of them when they came through to the backstage, where he and the rest of his band-mates had been taking their glorious time packing their van back up with all of their junk.

Aria just so happened to be his personal favorite of the idols from her group, too. Really, that was all he'd planned to tell her when he first came over with his lopsided grin and spectacularly fumbled hello. She's very pretty (he'd always thought so, hence the favoritism) and they're so much bigger and far more adored than him and his gang of try-hards and wannabes. Jean didn't expect to get much further than that before she, most likely, stared directly through and walked right past him.

She didn't though.

And now, the guys are getting annoyed with waiting on him to get in the goddamn van already, as Connie has just so loudly put it from out the passenger-side window. Their gear is now all fully packed away with hardly a finger lifted to help from him. The engine's running. And Jean's not entirely convinced they won't just leave him here.

But Aria agrees with him when he, boldly, still riding on that concert high, tells her he wishes they had more time together. So, only emboldened all the more, Jean can't help how stupidly he smiles at her when he says, in-tune to the series of honks coming from the van that he ignores, "Well, uh— we should do this again, then. Sometime. Maybe. If ya mean that, I mean," he laughs a bit. Giddy. More nervous.

He picks up his bag and takes at least one step around Aria and back towards his beloved assholes so they'll hopefully cut him a bit more slack while he continues to linger. Hesitating. Before he finally thinks fuck it and asks, "Can I get your number?"

[vampstel]

Hello! How are you? Here's a Random Idea for a drawing, Rei and Lawrence first meetup in their workplace! Kind of a basic idea in my opinion, but I'd like to see what you do if you do this! :DD -Dreamist

I’d probably have that as some kind of mini comic!! The time they met was kinda awkward but sweet since it was brief. They were very polite and shy, which is a drastic difference to how they’re like now.

Here’s some quick doodles of their first impressions on each other!!

[dark-fics-4-you]

Blue Christmas

dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), p in v sex, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, abusive behavior

A/N: this fic is directly inspired by the movie P2 (2007) but I changed a couple plot things to make it fit for Rafe. Hope you enjoy!

The click of your heels echoed throughout the large, empty parking garage. You let out a frigid puff of breath as you shivered, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders as you looked for your car.

After the holiday party had died down, you had volunteered to stay late to finish up a report so you could have Christmas day off with your family. And now, a full hour and a half after everyone else left, you were finally about to be on your way home.

You reached into your purse to fish your keys out, clicking the unlock button to help you find your car.

Chirp chirp!

The sound came from the level above you and you let out a small groan as you began the walk up to the next level.

After spotting your car, you let yourself in, sliding into the seat and closing the door behind you.

You slid the key into the ignition and turned it, but instead of coming to life, your engine stuttered, refusing to start.

“Shit!” You cursed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Fucking seriously?!”

All you wanted right now was to get home to see your family, but now it appeared your car might not even be leaving the garage.

You reached into your purse to pull your phone out, dialing your mom, but when no sound came over the speaker, you pulled the phone away from your ear to realize that you didn’t have any signal.

Realizing that your only options were to find the parking security guard or walking out into the cold air to get better signal, you decided that you needed to find the parking office.

However, before you could even open your door, you saw the lights on the opposite side of the garage begin to turn off, one by one, growing closer until you were swallowed by the darkness of the garage.

“I’m still in here!” You shouted, feeling freaked out by the dark.

But the sudden sharp knock against your window nearly stopped your heart.

A bright flashlight flicked on, pointed at your face like the person was trying to get a look at you.

He must have seen the fear in your eyes because the light lowered to the ground, revealing the parking security guard, and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.

“Thank god it’s just you,” you joked nervously as you opened your car door to step out.

You looked up at the tall, blond man, remembering the many times he had let you in the parking garage or waved goodbye as you drove out. He was a shy and somewhat awkward guy, but he had been nice in all of your previous interactions.

Underneath the nerdy looking glasses, you might have even considered him handsome.

“I’m glad you’re still here so late, or I’d be in a lot of trouble,” you groaned, gesturing to your car. “It won’t start and I don’t have any signal in the garage.”

“Ah that h-happens here more than you’d think, I can help you out,” he grinned, taking a cursory glance at your car. “You could um- make a call from the office, if you wanted.”

“Oh that would be perfect! Thanks um… Ray?”

“Rafe,” he corrected you with a lopsided smile.

“Oh. Rafe, sorry,” you repeated. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know.”

“You do?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked up at him.

“You hand me your parking pass every day, remember? Everyone who works in the office does,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah, true,” you let out a small laugh.

“Did you enjoy th-the party?”

You blushed, smiling to yourself as you remembered your coworker, Jack, pulling you into one of the empty offices for a quick make out session. This was the first time the two of you had ever done something so risky at the office before, and it had been pretty thrilling.

“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready to get home to my family though, they’re all waiting on me.”

“Then we better call you a taxi, huh?”

“Guess so.”

You followed him as he lead you to the parking office, and your eyes widened as you took in the sparkling Christmas lights that were wrapped around the small space.

“Did you do all of this decoration yourself, Rafe?”

“Uh yeah,” his lips curled into a shy smile and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it just brightens the place up. Makes the job less depressing.”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” You sat down at the chair opposite from his desk, mindlessly glancing over at the monitor that was showing multiple grainy camera angles throughout the garage, cycling through all the cameras throughout the building.

You looked over at the corner of the office to see a large black dog curled up on a bed.

“So, here’s the office phone,” he passed the landline to you. “I’m gonna step out for a quick smoke, you can uh, call your family or a cab, or um whatever you need to do. I’ll be b-back in a couple minutes.”

“Okay! Thank you so much for your help!” You smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door of the office.

You dialed your mom’s number, holding the phone to your ear as you waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” You could barely hear your mother’s voice over the sounds of children playing.

“Mom? It’s Y/N.”

“Where are you?? We’ve been waiting for an hour at this point sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, I had a little extra work to do tonight so I could spend all of tomorrow with you. And you’ll never guess what happened when I left the office.”

“What?”

“My car wouldn’t start! So I’m waiting in the security office and I’m going to call a cab,” your mother started to interject, but you cut her off, “don’t wait up on me. I’ll get there soon hopefully, but with this weather it might take a bit for the cab to get here.”

Your mom was saying something about sending your aunt to pick you up, and you waved her off, but when your gaze landed on the monitor’s camera feed, your blood went cold and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing anything.

Your eyes widened as you watched Jack open the office door building on the camera feed, pulling you inside, leaving only a moment before his lips were on your neck, and his hands were trailing down your body.

Your stomach lurched when you heard yourself softly moan his name before his lips covered yours.

This video was from earlier tonight.

“Y/N?” Your mom asked and you realized you had gone silent.

“I-” your mouth felt dry, your mind was racing, but you knew you needed to call the cab as soon as possible. “I’m calling the cab now.”

You hung up quickly, looking behind you and around the now cramped feeling office for the security guard.

Would it be safe to leave the office? How would you find your way out quickly with the lights off?

He was nowhere in sight, so you dialed the number of the cab company, hand shaking as you held the phone to your ear and cursing when it kept ringing with no answer.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, someone picked up.

“Hello? Please, I need a cab at 9876 Main Street.”

“How many passengers?”

“Just one, please hurry,”

“We’ll be there in under 5 minutes.”

You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going home.

However, you were shocked back into reality when a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, pressing a damp rag over your nose and mouth.

You let out a muffled yelp, struggling against them, but the strong arm that wrapped around your chest held you firmly in place.

You had only taken three gasping breaths before the world around you grew fuzzy, and then your vision went black.

Your eyes cracked open slowly and you lifted your aching head to find yourself still inside the security guard’s office, laid out on the couch. A chill ran up your spine and your noticed your coat was missing.

Rafe was sitting at his desk with his back turned to you, watching the video of you and Jack on a loop.

You let out a soft whimper of fear, shifting to stand up and try to run out of the room, but you quickly realized your right wrist was handcuffed to the sofa when it dug into the skin of your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch.

The clinking of the metal alerted Rafe to the fact that you were awake and he turned around, a sick grin spreading across his face.

“You’re up! Sorry about all that with the rag and stuff,” he chuckled, acting as if it was some run of the mill accident.

His casual ease as he looked over you sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t miss the fact that his large dog was awake now, sitting beside him and staring you down imposingly.

“Also, I um- I cancelled your cab,” he told you and your heart skipped a beat.

“W-why?”

“Well… I thought maybe you’d want to spend your Christmas Eve with me,” Rafe nervously offered.

You blinked at him in shock, at a complete loss for words.

“W-we could get to know each other, and finally have our first date.” Rafe stood up from the chair and approached you, and you shrank away from him.

“Listen, Rafe..” you swallowed dryly, heart hammering against your chest as you carefully chose your words, “I- I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m already seeing somebody.”

There was a deadly silence at your words and Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in a way that made you nervous.

His dog noticed the subtle change in his attitude, a low growl building at the back of its throat and he slowly started to walk towards you.

“Easy Max,” Rafe warned, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t wanna scare poor Y/N too much.”

The dog backed off at that, laying down in his bed, but still eyeing you suspiciously.

Rafe sat beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist and you shuddered at the physical contact.

“Listen, Y/N, just give me a chance okay? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“I-” you stuttered nervously, your mind too blank with fear to know what to say. “I have t-two siblings.”

You tripped over your words, face warming up when you felt his hand slowly begin to trace up your back.

“Keep going,” he ordered with a whisper, his hand rising to the rest at the back of your neck. Your pulse was racing and your breath was beginning to grow uneven with tension.

“I’m f-from a town 40 minutes from here. I’ve never ah-” you winced when his fingers flexed slightly, putting you even more on edge. “I’ve never lived outside of the state.”

“Really? That’s incredible. Me personally, I’m from North Carolina, but I’ve traveled all over the world.”

His eyes flicked from your face to your chest, eyeing the way your breath was coming quickly. He grinned wickedly, drawing so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

“Am I making you nervous, Y/N?”

He adjusted his hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the back of your neck while his other fingers splayed down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Would you feel more at ease if I was Jack?” Rafe spat his name out like it was poison in his mouth and you winced.

“N-no. I- I don’t- no,” you whimpered, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

This night had taken a turn that you never expected and your head was still spinning as you tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Rafe let out an annoyed huff, a scowl blooming across his face as he stared at you.

“Do you want to see him again tonight?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to see him again tonight?”

“I-” you stuttered, but you trailed off, not knowing what he meant or how to answer.

Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly growing irritated by your indecisiveness. He turned to find something on his desk before returning to you with a key in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the knife, your breathing picking up as you looked to him in fear.

“What-?”

“I’m going to unlock you and we’re going to take a short drive, but I can’t have you getting any smart ideas, sweetheart.” Rafe grabbed your cuffed wrist, jamming the key into the lock on the cuff that was attached to the sofa.

He grabbed your wrist tightly with one hand, pulling you off the couch and turning you away from him before reaching over your shoulder and bringing the knife to your throat.

He leaned forward, letting his lips come to your ear and you held back a shudder as he spoke, “if you so much as think about trying to get away from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you, do you understand?”

You nodded, choking down your tears as he pushed you forward to signal you to walk out of the office.

Rafe led you to a car, opened the door, and shoved you inside, giving you a warning glare to not run before walking around to the driver’s side.

“W-where are we going?” You asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

“You’ll see, sweetheart.”

He turned towards the exit of the garage, and for a moment you could feel your escape within your grasp, but he steered away, instead steering towards the ramp that led to the lower levels of the garage.

“W-we’re not leaving?” You could feel your heartbeat pick up again in your confusion. Where the fuck was he taking you?

“We’re almost there, Y/N, calm down.”

Your eyes scanned the dark garage, but they widened when he turned the corner, his headlights revealing Jack duck taped to one of the office chairs.

“Oh my god,” you whispered in shock, taking in the blood that was already dripping from his forehead. Jack shifted in the chair, his eyes squinting as he tried to look through the windshield.

“What’s going on Rafe?? Why are you doing this?” You hissed through tears, frantically looking back and forth between Rafe and Jack.

He chuckled, but it lacked humor and you felt nauseous at the sound.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N?” His hand came to your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you so much, and he’s what’s keeping us apart.”

Now you were almost certain you were going to be sick and you let out a sob as his thumb lightly traced your face.

“I- I don’t even know you, Rafe! I barely knew your name before tonight,” you cried hysterically, begging him to find reason. “Please, whatever you’re planning, just stop!”

You couldn’t stop the burning tears from falling now, anxiety making your heart beat so fast you felt dizzy.

“Shh Y/N, calm down.” He wiped away some of your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes watched you with concern, but there was a coldness underneath the surface that frightened you.

“I’m gonna take care of it, okay? And he’s never going to come between us again.”

Before you could question him, he closed the gap between you, holding you in place as his lips covered yours.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, stomach turning in disgust as you squirmed against him, and you whimpered when he forced his tongue into your mouth. His lips felt hot against yours and the kiss lasted too long, as Rafe held you down against the chair by your throat until you were gasping for breath.

He pulled away with a dreamy look in his eyes as he scanned your distressed expression.

“Do not try to run. Got it?”

You stared at him blankly, taking a beat too long to respond and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Got it?” He repeated with a sickening edge to his voice.

“Mm, mm hm,” you nodded, mouth too dry to make any noises other than humming yes.

“Good girl,” he purred, leaning forward to press one last kiss to your trembling cheek before reaching over to open his door and climb out.

You were glued to your seat, too scared to attempt running with him still so close. You could barely watch as he approached Jack with the knife brandished in his hand.

“Please- stop it! Don’t get any closer!” Jack cried out and your heart skipped a beat, more tears sliding down your face was you watched with horror.

“You were never good enough for Y/N, you know that?” You could hear the rage in Rafe’s voice simmering beneath the surface, ready to be released.

“Always taking her for granted and treating her like she’s some everyday slut.” He spat, pulling his arm back before punching James hard across the jaw.

You stifled your cry by biting your lip, trying to ignore Jack’s groans of pain when Rafe punched him again.

“Rafe, stop it!” You cried from inside the car and he turned around to look at you before punching him in the stomach with a grin.

“She may not understand what kinds of tricks you’re pulling, but I do.” He slammed his fist into James’ gut again. “I know guys like you, who get off on playing nice girls like Y/N and treating them like shit.”

“No- I’m not-” Jack grunted, blood trickling past his lips as he struggled to breathe. He strained against the layers of duck tape wrapped around his chest and the back of the chair to no avail.

“And I’m sure you look down on the guys like me. You think you’re so much better because you went to college and got a comfy, corporate job, and assholes like you always get the girl in the end,” Rafe’s voice was downright venomous at this point, and you could tell that he was working himself up to a boiling point.

“Not this time,” he chuckled darkly, bringing the knife to Jack’s throat threateningly.

“Rafe please!” You screamed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you watched the scene before you unfold, feeling utterly powerless.

In one smooth motion, Rafe brought the knife across Jack’s throat and a river of crimson sprayed from his neck, splattering across Rafe’s face and clothes.

You sobbed as Jack slumped against the chair, his head leaning back to reveal the large cut splayed across his throat, and you knew in your heart that he was dead.

Before you could think twice, your hand was wrapped around the door handle, and you pushed yourself out of the car.

The garage was almost pitch black, save for Rafe’s headlights and you didn’t notice the cement wedge in front of you.

“Shit-!” You cursed as you hit the ground, adrenaline too high to register any pain from the fall.

You turned your head as you scrambled to your feet to find Rafe’s angry gaze fixed in your direction. Heart pounding, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you remembered him turning from the ramp to the upper levels, the sounds of your heels echoing off the walls of the parking garage.

“Fuck!” You heard Rafe roar from behind you followed by the sound of him hitting something hard in frustration, likely his car, before you heard his heavy footsteps chasing after you.

“Y/N!!” He yelled, his voice reverberating and repeating as he cursed.

Knowing that this was likely your only chance to escape, you frantically looked around for an exit once you got onto the ground floor, only to find that it was gated off, and there was no way for you to leave.

When you passed a second exit that was gated off, you realized Rafe must have closed them all down to keep you inside and your heart fell.

“Where are you hiding?” Rafe’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he was getting closer.

If you were going to escape, you weren’t going to be able to do it alone.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer behind you in the dark, and you tried to quiet your shaky breath as you ran to the brightly lit office, hiding behind the support pillars along the way.

Even if he caught you in the office, if you could just make a call to the police, hopefully that would be enough to save you.

You finally reached the front, pushing the door open slowly and quietly before crouching and entering.

Unfortunately, in your panic to get away, you had forgotten all about Rafe’s large dog, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he ran up to you, barking and lunging, only to be yanked back by his chain at the last moment before reaching you.

Your heart rate spiked as the dog growled loudly in between sharp ruffs, barring his teeth and trying to nip at you.

“Shhh!” You whispered. “Good doggie, please be quiet!”

You eased past the dog and towards the landline, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking in your knees as Max continued to bark.

Images of Jack’s throat being slit flashed through your mind and you choked back a sob as you reached for the phone.

Your sweaty fingers slid over the numbers and you held the phone up to your ear waiting for the ring.

But it never came.

You pulled the phone away from your ear in confusion, and looked down at the handset, following the wire connected to the phone to where it should have been plugged into the wall.

Instead, you stared at the severed wire in terror, realizing that Rafe must have cut it while you were knocked out earlier.

“Why are you trying to ruin our first date?”

Rafe’s voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you slowly turned around to find him standing in the doorway of the office.

He was an imposing figure, made all the more terrifying due to the flecks of blood painted across his face and shirt. His glasses were gone now, and you realized just how much they had been hiding the threatening glint in his eyes.

Rafe no longer seemed like the shy, nerdy guy you had taken him for before tonight, but instead a dangerous predator who had finally cornered his prey.

“Rafe,” your voice was so faint you weren’t sure if you were even speaking. “Please, I’m scared.”

Your throat felt tight, tears filling your eyes when you noticed the blood on his hands.

“Scared?” He asked incredulously. “You should be thanking me for getting that loser out of our way.”

A sob clawed its way out of your throat, and you took a step back, only to jump forward again when the dog’s low growl came from behind you.

“Now it’s time to stop running,” Rafe taunted.

You felt dizzy with fear as you watched him step closer, towering above you, the outline of his muscular form barely hidden by his leather jacket.

Heart beating loudly against your chest and blood rushing in your ears, you didn’t have any time to think your decision through before acting.

You rushed forward, trying to push past him to get to the front door, but you were a moment too slow.

Rafe’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, easily picking you up and spinning you away from the door.

You cried out as he carried you forward, pushing you against the table in the middle of the room and bending you over it.

“Stop it-!” You screamed as you struggled against him, but he easily pinned you against the hard wood, letting out a wicked snicker as he roughly pushed the skirt of your dress up.

“Don’t you want someone to take of you, baby?” The blond groaned desperately, fingers grasping at your tights before ripping them open.

“I just wanted to treat you nice, Y/N.” He growled, anger radiating off his tongue. “Like the good girl I thought you were.”

You wretched your arm free before bending your elbow and thrusting it into Rafe’s stomach.

He cursed loudly, his grip on you loosening for just a moment before his hand clamped down around your wrist, painfully twisting it behind your back and harshly forcing you against the table. When you heard his belt jingling behind you, your heart skipped a beat.

“Looks like I was wrong.” Rafe spat, and you whimpered in fear as he pulled your panties to the side. “Maybe you are a fucking slut.”

“Rafe please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this, Rafe,” you were quaking beneath him, crying harder as your pleas fell on deaf ears.

You froze however, voice dying in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock run along your folds.

“Oh god,” he strained, and you squirmed beneath him, cringing when his lips came to your ear.

“You’re so wet you’re dripping down your fucking thighs, sweetheart,” he taunted, barely shifting his hips forward and spreading your lips with his dick.

You sucked in a shaky breath, legs growing weak underneath you. You fisted the hand pinned against your back until your knuckles grew pale. His fingertips brushed your clit as he languidly dragged his tip along your pussy, up near your ass, then down to your clit. Up, down, languid strokes as he hissed through his teeth.

"Bet Jack wouldn't ever get you this wet, huh?"

Jack’s lifeless body flashed before your closed eyelids again, quickly replaced by the sharp sting of Rafe's fingers clamping your clit, rolling his slick-covered digits over your nerves. An instinctual whine left your lips, and Rafe sneered down at you as he dragged his dick back up to your hole, circling the head around your entrance as you protested.

"Rafe, please, please," you cried into the table, clenching your knees together and tilting your hips from him, anything to get him to pull away.

“Fucking stay still!” He hissed, wrapping his thick bicep around your throat in frustration. You let out a choked whine, tears coming to your eyes when his muscles flexed, cutting off your breathing, and Rafe ignored you as you helplessly scratched at his arm.

He groaned as he pushed into your cunt, his tip nearly sliding all the way inside of you, met with resistance that only fueled him further. Your pleas were lost to the heat that blushed Rafe's face.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you been holding this back from me?" He dragged himself out of you, watching as you clenched and quivered from the sudden withdrawl. Again, he pushed his flushed head into your warmth, and then out, in slow teasing strokes that made your head spin.

Against every survival instinct that was screaming at you, you stopped fighting. Each sting of his dick breaching you, each wet squelch of his fat tip inside you left you feeling dizzy with want.

However, when you felt his cock inch deeper inside, you whined in protest and squirmed in his arms, but one flex of the bicep at your throat quelled your resistance quickly.

“You’re so pretty, you know that, Y/N?”

You shuddered as Rafe groaned against your ear, his arm locked around your neck and preventing you from turning away. Your knees shook beneath you as he slowly forced himself deeper, and you felt betrayed by your body when you felt yourself growing slicker around him.

“Too pretty to be trapped in this shitty office job, wasting your hours at work, if you ask me,” he purred.

His fingers found your clit again, thumb rolling over your sensitive bud, and you bit back a moan as your back arched instinctively, allowing Rafe to dip deeper inside.

He was much bigger than you expected, stretching you out with each thrust, and pushing himself deeper and deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

The blond wasn’t holding back anymore, reveling in every mewl and whimper he could draw out of you; and the way your snug walls clenched around his length had his hips snapping against your ass as he chased his release.

“Don’t you want a family to care for, baby?” He groaned, fingers swirling over your clit and you whined, trying to squeeze your legs shut in a desperate attempt to stop him.

His words echoed in your head, the sick irony completely lost on him.

You already had a family and he was holding you hostage to keep you away from them.

“We could start our own, together,” he whispered, and a muffled sob escaped your lips. When you squirmed beneath him, he easily held you in place, punishing you with quick, painful thrusts.

“You’ll never have to worry about working again,” he groaned when your tight walls squeezed around him. “Just- fuck- stay at home ‘n be my pretty, little housewife.”

Disgust and terror bloomed in your gut as you realized with a shock just how twisted his fantasies were. You felt sick thinking about how long his obsession had been festering beneath the surface and you had been too blind to see.

Rafe pinched your clit between two fingers and you whined, tears running down your cheeks as he forced your legs open again. You tensed around him, letting out a choked moan when he rolled his thumb over your tender clit.

You hated him, but even worse, you hated how much control he had over your body, and how painfully delicious each stroke of his cock felt.

“Please-” you whimpered, not entirely sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going, twisted desire clouding your head as he plunged into you again and again, the sticky sounds of your slick cunt filling the cramped room.

Rafe groaned, easing his hold on your neck to lean forward and trail messy kisses from your cheek to the side of your throat that was exposed, never slowing his pace or the steady circles around your clit. Nausea churned in your gut at the overly intimate gesture; and when the scent of copper reached you, you realized he had smeared some of Jack’s blood onto your cheek.

You gasped loudly when his lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Rafe’s low grunts vibrated against your throat when you squeezed down around him.

Your body rocked with every thrust of his hips, your knees quaking beneath you as his thumb circled around your clit faster now.

“Rafe-” your breath hitched and you shamefully realized that your undoing was hurdling towards you.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his bicep flexing around your throat as he lost himself in his pace, plunging into you again and again.

You let out a choked whine when his thumb pressed harder against your tender bud, and you were finally pushed over the edge.

Your body tensed, legs shaking as your slick walls spasmed around him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, whimpering pathetically as Rafe pushed his cock into you again and again.

He snickered as you cried beneath him, reveling in the way you helplessly scratched at his arms, tearfully begging him to stop.

The blond slammed into you harder, each slap of his balls against your sensitive clit made your head spin and it wasn’t long before you were coming around him again.

You trembled beneath him, so dazed that you could only whimper mindless pleas.

“Fuck-” Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as you squeezed around him, his pace stuttered, and the arm at your throat tightened as he grew closer.

You could barely breathe now, and you struggled against him as he choked you, panic overtaking you when your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

Rafe groaned loudly when he came, forcing his cock deep inside you and painting your walls with his hot, sticky seed.

You shuddered when he nudged himself deeper and you felt his thick cum overflowing past your sensitive, puffy lips. Out of instinct, you tensed beneath him, and he moaned against your ear when you tightened around his softening cock.

After what felt like forever, he finally pulled out, loosening his hold on you, although you couldn’t have fought back now even if you tried.

You heard him pulling his pants up behind you, and you flinched when his hands came to your back to pull your skirt down to cover you.

“C’mere honey,” he cooed, carefully lifting you off the table and guiding you to the couch. You obeyed him, much too out of it to put up any more resistance.

You cringed in pain as you sat down, but tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

Rafe’s hand was on your back, lightly drawing small circles on your exposed skin, and you found it nauseating that he could be so gentle after treating you so savagely.

He was staring at you, studying your nervous face for a few moments before reaching out to cup your cheek.

You flinched, turning away slightly as he drew closer, but his grip was firm, and he held you in place as he leaned in and draped his lips over yours.

Your stomach turned as his lips slid over yours possessively, and you let out a squeak of surprise when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he staked his claim on you.

When he finally pulled away, your head was swimming, and the dazed look in your eye made Rafe smirk.

“Aw look at you, never seen you so cock drunk before,” he chuckled, before leaning in to give you another quick peck on the lips.

“You gave me the best Christmas gift I could ask for.” He grabbed one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

You stared at him blankly, a tear rolling down your cheek that Rafe chose to ignore as he looked deep into your eyes.

“I love you, and I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.”

[incognit0slut]

Champagne Kisses

A night involving champagne gives you the perfect excuse to end up naked after weeks of harmless flirting. Spencer thinks one night isn’t enough.

category: smut, fluff word count: around 8k content: softdom!spencer, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v (but no creampie he’s testing his pull-out game), alcohol consumption, food play (more like drink play), and i wanna say spit kink but they’re using champagne instead so does that count? a/n: merry 2025 please tell me you remember me or else i might actually cry

You’re doing it again.

You’ve been clawing at his face for the past hour, stealing fleeting glances and looking away just as quickly, because every time you do, you find the same thing.

Brown eyes. Chocolate, marbled in hazel with tiny golden speckles. Pinning you in place. Dismantling you layer by layer. And somewhere in the quiet heat behind them, in the barely-there twitch of his jaw, you’re pretty sure he’s already mapping out the fastest way to get you out of your clothes.

It’s nerve-racking. Smart Spencer you can handle, awkward Spencer you can charm. But flirtatious Spencer? Flirtatious Spencer is dangerous.

Even more so when you’re squashed between Penelope and Luke at the overcrowded booth of O'Keefe's, who are mid-argument over something you can’t even muster the energy to care. Not when long legs stretch in front of you, and strips of neon lights slice across the table in a glow that crosses his form, curving around handsome features that make him look far too inviting.

Because that’s what your mind keeps drifting to. Taking him back to your place, where the only thing glowing would be the dim light of your bedroom.

Or maybe the pale light from the hallway.

Perhaps the soft flicker of the lamp in your living room.

Either way, your mind is already drawing images of him doing whatever it is he’s picturing in his own head. The location doesn’t matter.

“Don’t you agree?”

Your gaze fall over him once more before you force yourself to look away, catching Penelope staring at you expectantly. “Agree to what?”

“That margaritas are objectively the most fun drink and clearly better than boring beer.”

This is the argument they’ve been debating for the last five minutes?

Luke scoffs from your left. He doesn’t look angry though, his expression is more amused than irritated, lips formed in a cheeky smirk. “I can tolerate margaritas if we’re on a beach. But beers are solid all year round, pop a cap and you're good to go."

“You’re such a guy."

“I'm telling you, you don't need fancy ingredients or a blender. No little umbrellas."

“Literally proving my point. Beer has no personality.”

“Are you saying I have no personality?”

Bright pink-framed glasses shift as Penelope tips her head. “If the shoe fits.”

You’re at the point where you’re no longer surprised by their arguments. Loud and pointless, is how you'd describe them. You suspect Luke does it to get a reaction, and normally you’d add fuel to the fire, because Penelope is a pretty fire-cracker when her nostrils flare in absolute indignation. But your attention is elsewhere tonight.

Knees brushing yours under the table. A small smile curled at the corner of his lips. Deep set of eyes dragging over your face, your neck, the spot between your collarbone and shoulder where the pulse of your heartbeat seems to echo louder each second.

You slide with your back against the chair, thighs clamping shut. 

You feel him imprinted on you, heated gaze traveling beneath your skin. You wonder if he realizes what he’s doing, if he’s even aware of the effect all the time his eyes fall on you. Since the moment he walked in the room, since he took that seat directly across from you, and if you’re being completely honest, that glint in his eyes has been there probably for weeks now. The when of it all is a bit fuzzy.

Tonight feels adamantly different though, and you feel like you might just need a little extra something to quiet the nervous hum beneath your ribs.

But you’re not entirely sure whether it’s nerves or something far more indulgent that has your mind secretly leading you to a very unholy place. A place where you wonder if the rough, scruffy drag of his jaw feels the same below his navel.

You’re a hundred percent certain that it does.

“You know what’s a better drink?” your voice cracks, desperately needing that extra little something. “Champagne.”

Penelope’s head whips toward you. “Champagne? Here?”

You glance around the bar and raise a hand, trying to flag down the bartender.

The wood-paneled walls are covered with vintage beer advertisements, and the sticky floor is dotted with peanut shells from the complimentary bowls on every table. It’s the kind of place where the closest thing to champagne is probably prosecco poured into a plastic flute for a wedding after-party.

“What’s wrong with champagne? It’s a classic drink, great for celebration.” You order a bottle and four tall glasses before fixing her with a look. “It’s the New Year.”

She snorts. “We’re already halfway through January.”

“Penelope, we had to work on Christmas and New Year’s. We finally have this night to breathe, let me have this.”

There’s a beat of silence before she sighs dramatically. “Fine. But it still feels weird drinking champagne in a bar where the most sophisticated cocktail is a rum and coke.”

“Which is exactly why we’re elevating the night,” you reply, watching as the bartender sets the bottle down with (thank god) proper crystal flutes. You pour the first glass, the golden bubbles racing upward like tiny fireworks as you pass it to her.

Luke accepts the next glass without the same hesitation, but when you offer one to Spencer, the curly-haired man shakes his head.

“Right. I forgot you don’t really drink alcohol.”

The faintest smile tugs at his lips. “I don’t have anything against alcohol, just not in large amounts.” His gaze shifts to the bottle on the table. “I also happen not to like champagne.”

Penelope looks mildly offended. “Why not?”

“Because the carbonation overpowers the flavor. It’s hard to enjoy a drink when it’s constantly popping on your tongue.” You stifle a laugh before you can stop yourself. He looks at you. “What?”

“I think you’re overthinking it,” you reply with a grin. “Here, maybe this will change your mind.”

You pour him a glass and nudge it toward him. He simply looks from the glass to you.

“Come on,” you coax. “We’re celebrating the New Year.”

“Seventeen days late."

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"Do not ruin the fun. We’re still celebrating, and you can’t toast with water. That’s practically begging for bad luck.”

He exhales sharply, lips twitching in what might be defeat or mild amusement, before reaching across the table. Everyone raises their glasses. The instant the bubbles hit his tongue, his nose scrunches in subtle distaste, and the sound of your laughter flies through the small space.

“It’s not that bad,” you insist.

“I still don’t understand the appeal.”

Champagne isn’t exactly your first choice either. You’ve always been more of a wine person. A good wine. A rich Burgundy that makes you close your eyes on the first sip to taste the faint of autumn in a glass. But champagne feels right for the occasion.

This taste blooms on your tongue, crisp and bright with hints of green apple and citrus and that faint yeasty richness at back of your throat. They dance across your palate, leaving a lingering sweetness through your veins that doesn’t soothe your nerves so much as ignite something beneath them, something warmer, deeper, curling into your bloodstream.

It makes you very bold.

Bold enough to hold his gaze without flinching. Bold enough to let your tongue flick across your lips. Bold enough to let your foot glide slowly up the length of his long, long leg.

You’ll have him taste his own medicine.

You, too, can play with fire.

“Maybe you’re drinking it wrong,” you hum, feeling him tense for the briefest, tiniest moment before he relaxes. “There’s another way to make champagne better.”

He grips the stem of his glass. “Something tells me you have a suggestion.”

“I do.”

He tilts his head. The din of conversation around you slowly fades into a muffled hum, the clinking of glasses and Penelope’s laughter barely registering as you notice the curve of his smile, the question lingering in his eyes.

Will you show me?

And that’s how you find yourself naked between his thighs two hours later.

It started innocently enough—or at least that’s the lie you fed yourself when you watched Penelope and Luke stumble their way to the dance floor, giggling as they poured yet another round of sparkling wine. But the champagne didn’t keep your attention for long. A few more stolen glances later, you found your hand wrapping around his arm, the other clutching a half-full bottle of champagne like some reckless lifeline.

It is reckless. Even you can’t deny that. You’ve always been cautious when it comes to bringing a man home. But this isn’t just anyone. This is Spencer. Someone who already knows too many pieces of you, someone who doesn’t need to be deciphered or explained.

And maybe that’s why you couldn’t stop yourself from dragging him out of the bar.

The ride in the stuffy cab felt like an eternity and a blink at the same time that the moment your apartment door clicked shut behind you, his mouth was already on yours. You barely had time to process how surprisingly good he tasted before your clothes started to disappear.

It’s a dizzying rush of hands and heat, and you’re now standing over him, knees brushing his as he sinks into your couch.

Yes, your couch. The soft, slate-blue one you’ve spent countless evenings curled up on, legs tucked under a blanket, flipping through books or half-watching shows you never finish. But now it cradles a completely different weight—the heavy heat of him radiating with tension-laced curiosity and a barely contained lust that seems to bleed right into the fabric.

“I can’t believe I’m kissing you,” he mutters dazedly, trailing his lips along your jaw with a hand resting on your naked back.

“I can’t believe you can unhook my bra that fast.”

He catches the sheer black fabric now hanging haphazardly over your lamp where he’d tossed it aside moments ago. “It wasn’t that hard.”

“Should I be concerned about how much practice you’ve had?”

“Not really. I’m a fast learner.”

That, you believe. But you’re not entirely sure if it’s his innate skill or the way your body seems to respond to him so effortlessly that leaves your lungs feeling like they’ve forgotten how to work. Breathing is no longer instinctive now. It’s a function you have to remind yourself to do as his tongue dances along the curve of your breast, and by the time he takes the achingly hard tip into his mouth, your chest tightens.

You suck in a desperate need of oxygen while he sucks the last thread of composure from you.

“Sweet.”

“Huh?”

“You—” He pulls back just enough to let his teeth graze the delicate skin before soothing it with a slow drag of his tongue, “taste sweet.”

Your hand slides to the back of his neck with a sigh. “You’re exaggerating.”

“What do you mean?”

“Bodies don’t taste like anything, it’s skin.”

Spencer shakes his head as he cups the weight of your other breast with the same care you’ve come to expect from him. Taut nipple rolls under his thumb. “How do you explain this then?”

You don’t respond. Not with words, anyway. Your body speaks first as you arch into his touch, chasing the warmth of his hands before you can form any thoughts.

“How do you explain,” he continues, his lips trailing down the slope of your stomach, “why I can’t get enough of how sweet you taste?”

Your mind finally catches up, and the words settle over you like honey itself.

“You think so?”

“It’s not a thought, it’s a fact.” He presses a kiss to the soft skin just below your navel. “I don’t know how you can taste better than this.”

Your laugh is breathless, barely steady enough to be called one. “You’re laying it on thick now.”

“I’m just being honest.”

It’s cute how he says it with such conviction, like it’s the simplest truth in the world and not a line that’s turning your legs to liquid. Your knees threaten to buckle as you step away, reaching for the half-empty champagne bottle perched on the coffee table. The glass feels cool against your overheated skin as you twist the cork free.

“What are you doing?”

“Considering your words.” You hold up the bottle, the champagne fizzing invitingly at its neck. “What do you say we make this even sweeter?”

His eyes light up with interest. “Is this where you show me the right way to drink champagne?”

You nod and sink back between his thighs. “I know you’re not big on sharing food, but I think you’re gonna like this.”

“You do realize I’ll share anything with you.”

Your lips curl into a soft smile. You’ve already learned that kissing Spencer feels deliciously messy. It’s sloppy in the way passion tends to be when control is the last thing on either of your minds, with tongues and teeth colliding in an unpolished rhythm that’s as raw as it is consuming. Adding champagne to the equation doesn’t feel like much of a stretch.

You step forward at the same time his hands fall to your hips. “There’s a trick to drinking champagne.”

“I’m listening.”

The bottle’s rim grazes your lips as you take in his appearance. His shirt is wrinkled, hanging just a little more loosely around his chest with two buttons undone. He’s the very definition of disheveled that’s entirely your doing. He looks absolutely irresistible.

“You need to linger on the taste,” you start, your voice dipping into something softer as your eyes meet his again. “Be patient. Let it sit and overwhelm your senses before you swallow.”

“You mean marinate it in my mouth?”

A giggle burst out of you. “Exactly. The longer you let it linger, the more it softens, and the sweeter it gets.”

You tilt the bottle to your lips. The sweetness starts to bloom on your tongue, subtle at first, but then richer, fuller against the roof of your mouth. There's a flicker of recognition in his eyes when you pull him closer by the nape of his neck, the exact moment he realizes what you’re about to do.

Your lips meld seamlessly with his as the Champagne slips from your mouth.

His lashes flutter briefly. There’s a soft flush spreading across his pale cheeks, and you feel the faint hum of pleasure, vibrating against the delicate curve of his skin as a liquid thread drips down your chin.

And then you’re kissing him. Or he’s kissing you. It’s hard to tell who moved first, but it doesn’t matter. His lips part further, and you swear you can taste every nuance of the champagne in a way you've never experienced before. Sharp citrus, a whisper of honeyed sweetness, and beneath it all, something clean and cool that reminds you of first snowfalls.

His lips are swollen and wet and perfectly shiny when you finally pull back.

“What do you think?”

“I think we should drink champagne every day.”

Your hand drifts to the side of his neck with a smile, thumb brushing lightly against his pulse. “Even when we’re working?”

“Especially when we’re working,” he counters, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, tasting what’s left of you. His gaze flickers to the bottle in your hand. “Can I try it?”

You pass it to him, your eyes fixed on the way he tilts it to his mouth. You’re sure the bubbles in your system aren’t the reason your pulse races as he sets the bottle aside and rises to his feet. You’re also sure that no amount of champagne is responsible for the way your lips part eagerly when his hands cradle your cheeks.

There it is again—that sweetness. It hits you the moment his mouth captures yours, but it fully overwhelms you when he tilts his head and gently coaxes the champagne from his lips to yours.

You’re not surprised at how quickly he picks this up. It’s common knowledge that he’s a very diligent person, but it’s still a bit astonishing how he’s taken to playing with a drink he supposedly doesn’t even like. This is nothing like solving cases or flexing his impossibly sharp brain, nor the crosswords you’re used to seeing him hunched over at his desk at lunch.

This requires a different kind of finesse that involves his lips and tongue rather than a pen and paper.

It also seems like he might be enjoying this even more. He leans back just enough to let his tongue sweep across the seam of your lips, collecting the last trace of sweetness clinging to you.

A thumb swipes over the wet trail under chin. “I could get used to this.”

“Champagne or me?”

“Both.”

Satisfied with his answer, your fingers trail down to undo the last few buttons of his shirt. “Do you wanna try something else?”

He quirks an eyebrow as you push down the fabric down his shoulders. You don’t say anything all the while you start to unbuckle his belt, peeling every layer of his clothing until you’ve stripped him completely bare—and would you look at that? The faint trail of hair down his belly matches the scruff shadowing his jaw.

There’s a brief pause as your eyes travel down his body, lingering on his surprisingly impressive size, and a comment sits at the edge of your tongue. You decide to let your actions speak for you.

Your delicate fingers wrap around his delicious thickness. You swipe the first signs of precum glistening over his tip with your thumb, and a low sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest.

“Is this what you had in mind?”

He sounds like he’s in pain, and you shake your head with a playful smile curling at your lips. “Sit back on the couch.”

Spencer sinks into the cushion.

“This might get a little messy.”

His brow furrows slightly, and for a moment, he looks genuinely intrigued. What he doesn’t expect is the way you slowly pour the remaining liquid down your chest. His mouth parts in surprise, and then his gaze follows every single drop like it’s gravity itself pulling him in.

You’re mesmerizing. Always have been, actually. There is no doubt in Spencer’s mind that you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever met in his life. Your mind is brilliant. Your heart is kind. But watching the champagne mix with the sheen of sweat on your skin, you’re something else entirely. You look lethal. A different kind of captivating.

He’s already pulling you by the waist, and you’re a mass of giggles as you twist out of his grip to set the bottle safely aside. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Can you blame me?”

Honestly, you can’t. If the roles were reversed, you’d probably look at him the same way.

When his hands finally find your hips again, there’s no point in pretending you don’t want to be caught. You bend your knees and shift on the couch. He helps you swing your thigh over his own and deposits you in his lap.

Desperate is a good enough word to depict for him because as soon as you're close enough, he’s tasting you all over again. His tongue drags slow over the curve of your shoulder, across the hollow of your throat, and down to the soft swell of your breasts. Goosebumps ripple across your skin with every pass, every flick of his tongue, his touch leaving a trail of heat that you swear you can feel seeping into your bones.

You don’t even realize when you start to move until you feel the slow, unintentional rock of your hips into him. His cock fits snugly between your folds that you start grinding as the words fall from your lips without much thought, “What do you think of sex without a condom?”

His pupils dilated, lips parting, but no sound comes out right away.

"Spence?"

His gaze flickers to where your wet bodies are pressed together. Damp moisture from his tip smeared erotically between puffy lips, clear liquid coating his hard length.

“I think… it’s very intimate."

“Too intimate?”

"No." His fingers trail along your skin before his thumb settles just under your breast, in the delicate curve where your rib meets, and finally looks at you. "Is that what you want?"

You're bobbing your head up and down.

“Then I'd really, really like that.”

You shift your weight on your knees. “So you trust me?"

"More than anyone."

“I trust you too,” you say, your voice dipping low as your fingers wrap around his cock, guiding him to your entrance. “Can I request something, though?"

"Anything."

You pause just long enough for your words to land. “I don’t want you to come inside me.”

He exhales a soft laugh. “That can be arranged.”

His answer makes your lips twitch, but as you start to sink down, your body seems to have other ideas. There’s a resistance you didn’t expect, a sudden tautness that refuses to give.

Your eyes widen in surprise.

Oh my.

“What’s wrong?”

When you first wrapped your hand around him and took in the full reality of his size, you’d been impressed. Now you wonder if maybe you underestimated just how much he has to offer.

You bite the insides of your cheeks and try again.

“It’s been a while,” you confess quietly. You can’t even recall the last time you were this intimate with someone that the hesitation feels foreign, like a hiccup in a moment you’ve been eagerly anticipating.

And you are eager. Maybe a little too much. It feels almost ironic, considering how much you’ve thought about this, how your imagination has filled in the blanks a hundred times over. Now that it’s real, your body seems to be having second thoughts your mind absolutely isn’t entertaining.

You shift your hips, determination flaring as you take a slow breath. Left, right, up, down. But then a sharp sting shoots through you. Your face quickly twists into a grimace.

"Hey,” he calls gently, thumbs brushing gentle circles against your hip. “We can stop. You don’t have to push yourself.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You want him to push past whatever invisible barrier your body is putting up. The idea of stopping now feels more unbearable than the sting itself.

Your lips press into a stubborn frown. “No,” you say firmly. “We are not stopping.”

"Are you sure?"

"Mhm. I think my body's just being weird. I'm sorry."

His brows knits together almost immediately. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Frustration suddenly wells up in your chest, and this time your teeth sinks into your lip, unsure whether it’s the tension in the muscles between your legs or the ache of wanting him that feels stronger.

And you want him. So fucking bad.

“You need to relax,” he soothes, running his hands up your waist, past your ribs, across your back.

“I am relaxed,” you huff.

“I don’t think you’re relaxed enough.”

Before you can respond, he carefully lifts you from his lap and settles you back onto the couch. The cushions dips under your weight, and you barely have time to process the change before he gracefully drops to the floor.

“Should we move to your bed?”

He grips one of your ankles, his thumb brushing along the soft curve of your bone before he leans down, pressing warm lips to the skin above it.

“After this,” you reply, glancing at the sticky champagne trail still glistening faintly on your skin. “Don’t want my sheets getting sticky.”

There’s a flicker of amusement on his handsome face. “After this?”

“Did you think we’d be stopping after one round?”

His laughter vibrates against your calf. “How many times are we talking then?”

“Until I can’t feel my legs.”

The smile he gives you is slow and warm. It curves one corner of his mouth first, almost shy, before spreading fully, lighting up his face in a way that steals the breath right from your lungs.

“You’d let me have my way with you all night?”

“I’d probably let you have me anytime you want.”

His grin is almost blinding that you can’t help but give him a pleased smile of your own.

“Let’s focus on tonight first.” He moves to your other the leg. Delicate bone and tendon brushes against his lips. “I need to get you ready for me. Would you let me do that?"

Words fail you as his mouth moves closer, and the heat of his breath against your skin makes your entire body tense in anticipation. He presses another open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

"You're still tense."

Kiss. Kiss.

“Really need you to relax.”

You try, but then again, it's impossible when his lips are so close, yet still not where you need them the most.

His name slips in a desperate whisper.

"Hm?"

"Stop teasing."

His lips quirk in response, but he doesn't argue.

He dips his head and finally— finally! —drags his tongue along your achingly wet folds. Your eyes almost roll to the back of your head.

"Better?"

The question is entirely rhetorical.

You don’t bother answering. Words seem sparse when his actions are spelling out everything you need to know in bold, underlined strokes. His touch is distinctly different from the playful, champagne-dampened kisses he had gifted your skin.

Now he’s utterly focused. He’s researching, and it appears his diligence isn’t confined to his academic when the same focus he applies to his studies is translated so flawlessly into reading your body like a favorite book. One he’s intent on memorizing every line of, delighting in every pause and whisper between the chapters of your sighs.

It’s this thought that tickles the back of your mind when he slips a finger in. He’s always been about comprehensive understanding, and well, you’re all about empirical evidence. Right now is proof of a hypothesis you’re too pleased to confirm that Spencer Reid might just be a genius in more ways than one.

Especially in how his steady thrust of his finger syncs perfectly with the hot, wet pull of his mouth, scratching such a carnal itch that it resonates deep in your brain. You sigh in pleasure when he adds another finger, and he lifts his head then, lips shiny and pink from his ministration.

"Do you think you can take a third?"

Your heart gives a few extra thuds in your chest cavity. “Please, please.”

Look at you, reducing yourself into begging, but really, how could you resist? Who could withstand the intensity of his gaze, the way his voice dips low like velvet wrapping around your senses?

Your head tips back against the couch, a soft whimper lashing out as he adds that third finger. The stretch is almost overwhelming but oh so good.

"Does it hurt?"

You let out a loud exhale. "No."

"Tell me if it hurts."

"Feels good." Your legs fall apart even further. "Don't stop."

He smiles, and then he's doing things to your body that have you questioning how you're even still breathing. The wet, sticky slosh of your arousal fills the room, a sound so explicit it should mortify you. But then three knuckles press deeper, stroking against that rougher patch of nerves and all rational thought dissolves.

A sound you didn't even know you could make escapes your throat. You're gasping, moaning, a little bit squealing as his free hand slides up your plush thigh before finding your puffy clit. And dear god, you’re choking on the breath that lodges in your throat. You're so close it's almost unbearable. A hand shoots out, and you’re gripping his forearm with a desperation you can't even pretend to hide.

You need him inside you.

“I'm ready," you gasp harshly, your lips parting in quick, desperate puffs. "I'm ready. I’m ready.”

He has the audacity to shake his head.

"I'll decide when you're ready."

Your breath stutters even more.

Why does that sound so hot? Why does that simple, infuriatingly calm statement make your thighs clench, your pulse race, and a fresh wave of heat roll through your body?

Before you know it, he’s coaxing your orgasm from you with just the right pressure, and every movement feels like it’s designed to bring you right to the edge. You’re not surprised by how wet you are, you’ve been dripping for what feels like hours. But what does surprise you is just how much your body can take. The intensity that doesn’t wane, that keeps pushing you higher, drawing out gasp after gasp until hot syrup gushes out of you in long, sticky droplets that pool on his fingers, down to the couch.

It’s endless, relentless, and you can’t even tell where one orgasm ends and the next begins. Your hand claw at his wrist.

“Spencer,” you whine, your voice breaking on the syllables. “Sensitive.”

He stops immediately, his fingers still inside you, his other hand slipping from your clit to rest on your thigh. “Too much?”

“A little,” you smile breathlessly. “C’mere.”

He crawls towards you as you lay on your back, relaxing your thighs.

His eyes trail over you, scanning your sweat-slicked skin, lingering on your perky breasts, moving down to where your legs are fallen apart, waiting for him. The sight is so overwhelmingly enticing that he finds himself wrapping a hand around his cock, muttering a low praise under his breath, “I don’t think I’ve told you how beautiful you are.”

Your eyes flick downward, and a spark of confidence—or maybe pure desperation—pushes your reply out without hesitation.

“Tell me again while you fuck me.”

You’re so blunt and shameless that a part of you might have blushed if you weren’t so far gone. Spencer doesn’t seem fazed, though. If anything, his eyes flash with a knowing sparkle that only deepens as he presses his bulbous head right at the shy of your entrance.

“I think I’m going to enjoy telling you,” he muses.

And Spencer is one to keep his promises.

He thinks you’re devastatingly pretty when he’s sinking into you. There’s a dazed look in your glossy eyes, and the sweetest sound coming from your lips as he stretches you in a way that leaves no part of you untouched.

He sings praises under his breath when the heavy weight of him finally settles deep inside your body. He patiently waits as your walls flutter around him, all the while his lips brushes the delicate curve of your collarbone, between low, broken whispers of how perfect you are.

Although perfection might not even capture the essence of what he sees in you at this moment. You’re a breathtaking array of contradictions. Powerful and vulnerable, fierce yet tender. You’re nothing short of divine as he gives another smooth, long thrust that pulls a sound from your lips that he knows will echo in his mind long after.

The heat of you surrounds him completely, and he swears he feels every pulse of your body welcoming him deeper. You’re slathering his entire cock with your slippery slick, and the dampness imprinting against his pelvis only seems to spur him on. He moves in steady, languid strokes, and your toes curl at the sensation burning in your belly.

He’s hitting you so good your ankles find themselves running down his back.

“Spence,” your voice is raspy and wet. “Fuck me harder.”

His quiet groan harmonizes with the rhythm of your heart. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t—”

You stop, and he looks through the mist of bliss you've shrouded him in. Your face twists, eyes going wide, lips parted to take in sharp breaths. He panics for a moment.

“You’re in pain,” he decides, reading the way your brows knit together, the way your breath stutters in your chest. It seems the most logical conclusion—until he realizes how wrong he is.

Because you’re writhing under his weight when he pushes in deeper, and your mouth trembles, not with discomfort, but with something devastatingly good.

“Oh,” he exhales. His smile is uncharacteristically smug. “It’s not pain, is it?”

You shake your head.

“You want it rough.”

It’s more of a statement than it is a question, but you’re nodding vigorously.

His restraint snaps like a frayed thread.

The next thrust is sharper, it pounds into you with enough force to shift your body slightly back against the cushions. Your lips mouth around another shaky breath he drinks dry with a wet kiss.

Still. Not. Enough.

“Harder,” you slur against his tongue.

What’s a hot-blooded man to do when asked so sweetly? He answers in the only way he can.

A hand curls around the back of your knee to pull you open just enough for him to drive deeper. The angle makes you feel impossibly full, how the folds of your vulva hugs around his shaft greedily, letting him claim all the space you didn’t even know existed. You can even feel the wet drag of his cock against your swollen clit with each hard thrust, a sensation so piercing it rips a gasp from your throat and a plethora of groans wailing from the couch.

“Like this?”

The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of skins colliding is making you delirious.

“Yes,” you cry out. “Fuck—Yes. Yes.”

Your vision blurs as you blink, and—god, you think you might actually cry. And honestly, with how full you feel, with how every nerve is sparking to life under his loud rhythm, it wouldn’t even surprise you.

Your lashes feel wet as you squeeze your eyes shut, but you force them back open, unwilling to miss the way he looks above you. Jaw tight, sweat beading at his temples, eyes locked on you like nothing else exists.

Nothing probably does, not when he moves with a rhythm that feels both gentle and crude, like he’s savoring every second so sweetly while simultaneously chasing the most carnal kind of pleasure known to mankind.

Pleasure that has you melting, pleasure that has your body fully acclimating to his size. And now you’re teetering on the edge of another intense orgasm that begins its ascent from the tips of your toes and fingertips, spiraling a tingling rush up through your legs and arms, gathering force at the pit of your stomach, and exploding into the point where you’re intimately connected.

It happens all at once.

You’re trembling.

You’re shattering.

You’re pathetically whining.

Euphoria floods every inch of your body until you’re drowning in it. A liquid fire in your veins. Your cunt clenches around him, so tight you swear you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as keeps pressing you into the couch. Again and again and again, until you’re nothing but an incoherent mess, your words blabbered in a breathless rush of pleasure-induced nonsense.

One heartbeat stretches into two, then the muscles in his arms flexes as his pace falters. He’s shaking now, his pelvis moving in hurried, shallow thrusts as though he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach before the heat of him presses into you one last time.

He abruptly pulls out, his cock visibly pulsing in his hand and strokes himself with a stuttering groan as thick, pearly ropes splutters across your stomach. His fingers dig deeper into the back of your thigh while he continues to paint your skin in messy streaks, and you watch in fascination the moment his head tilts back in pure, unfiltered pleasure.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him quite this beautiful.

His brows pinches in concentration for a few more seconds before his gaze slowly meets yours again, and a faint, blissful pink colors his cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes sheepishly, looking a little out of breath. Devastatingly handsome and sweaty. Flustered in the best way.

You brush the damp hair sticking to his skin with a small, satisfied smile. “Are you kidding? That was extremely hot.”

His laughter fills every corner in the room. Then his hand drift down a comforting path down your thigh as he leans to capture the giggle tumbling from your lips with his own. It’s then you realize that kissing Spencer isn’t just enjoyable, it’s downright addictive.

You’re beginning to think he’s just as addicted to you too, because when he pulls away, it’s reluctant, his lips leaving yours with a faint, wet sound that lingers as sweetly as the kiss itself.

“Will you really let me have my way with you all night?” he asks gently, and you can’t help but wonder why he even feels the need to ask.

“Was I not obvious enough?”

You feel his smile before you see it. “Bedroom now?”

To tangle your naked limbs with his again sounds pretty close to heaven. Absolute, indulgent heaven, except for the distinct stickiness of champagne, sweat, and a cocktail of other body fluids clinging to your skin. The thought of sinking into cool clean sheets in this state makes your nose scrunch.

“We need to make a stop to the bathroom first,” you say, running a hand up his arm to squeeze his bicep. “Have you ever tried shower sex?”

“Can’t say that I have,” he admits truthfully.

You make a sound of disapproval.

“We definitely need to change that.”

-

Spencer realizes a lot of things can change in one night.

He also discovers how much he’s capable of learning in such a short period of time. Granted, he’s always been a quick study, but this is different. The hours between midnight and sunrise completely upend his understanding of things he’d only ever read about—sex, intimacy, the intricacies of how touch can feel as much like a language as words.

But beyond the newfound knowledge (and let’s face it, an entirely new appreciation for his muscles), there’s something else. Something that surprises him even more.

He likes waking up with another warm body beside him. More than likes it. There’s a strange kind of peace in the way your leg drapes over his, your hair a tousled mess against the pillow. Peace that makes him wonder if this, too, is something he could get used to.

Even if you’re hogging the blanket. He can feel the cool air on his back while you’re wrapped in most of the covers, leaving him to soak up whatever body heat he can steal by staying pressed against you. Not that he’s complaining. He’d happily stay like this for hours, but the sun is already creeping higher through your window, and your phone has been vibrating nonstop ever since he opened his eyes.

The sheets rustle as he shifts closer, mouth puffing warmly on your cheek with a breath of your name folding into your skin. You blink through heavy eyelids, and Spencer thinks you look adorable all wrapped up like a cocoon in the tangled linens.

“Hey," you croak, then clear your throat. “Morning.”

The soft rasp of your voice is even as endearing as the sight of you.

“I think we’ve already passed morning,” he says, slipping a hand under the covers, finding the goosebumps prickling on your upper arm.

“We slept in?”

“My guess is it’s almost noon.” There’s another buzz vibrating from the bedside table that stops him from pressing you against his chest. “Someone keeps calling you.”

He wonders if you can sense the slight annoyance in his voice. He wonders if he even has the right to be annoyed. It's Saturday. You clearly have plans—or at least someone thinks you do based on how persistent they've been.

If you catch the flicker of irritation in his voice, you don’t acknowledge it. You stretch lazily for your phone instead, and his attention is momentarily snagged by the way the sheet slips down your shoulder, revealing the constellation of freckles and moles he’s spent the entire night memorizing with his lips.

"Nobody’s calling.” Your thumb scrolls through the notifications. "Penelope just doesn't understand the concept of personal space when she texts."

Spencer feels the tightness in his shoulders ease, though he doesn't miss the way your eyes narrow into sleepy slits at the screen.

"Oh."

That one syllable is enough to set his mind buzzing.

"What?"

"Um."

It’s the subtle crack in your voice that hooks him. He’s never been good at sitting with unanswered questions, especially not when your expression shifts just enough to make him wonder what could possibly warrant that little noise.

He finally curls an arm around your waist, and the faint trace of your scent fills his lungs as he gently draws you back against his chest. A relentless stream of messages glares up at him over your shoulder.

Penelope [Sent 23:37]: Where are you?? Penelope [Sent 23:45]: Is reid with you? Penelope [Sent 00:05]: Did you leave? WITH HIM?? Penelope [Sent 00:17]: You did, didn't you? Penelope [Sent 00:33]: You can’t just vanish like this, you know I have questions!!!

Spencer barely registers the way his hand drifts down to rest against your stomach. He pulls you in unconsciously as his eyes scan over the flood of texts that started piling up this morning.

Penelope [Sent 09:19]: Good morning. Penelope [Sent 09:25]: Answer me. Penelope [Sent 10:24]: Seriously, are you alive? Penelope [Sent 10:39]: YOU OWE ME DETAILS. Penelope [Sent 10:48]: Last chance. Calling you in ten.

"I think she's onto us."

It’s not so much a matter of thought as it is a fact. Your words are less a theory and more a confirmation of reality, as undeniable as the relentless stream of texts lighting up your phone.

"What should I tell her?"

Spencer leans in closer. The soft scent of your shampoo drifts up, clean and faintly sweet, wrapping itself around him in a way that makes his chest ache, though he’s not sure why. He’s inhaling everything—your warmth, the curve of your shoulder brushing his chest, the way your voice carries an edge of hesitation that feels so out of place for someone like you.

And that’s what truly catches him off guard. Not the fact that Penelope is practically banging on a metaphorical door with her texts, but that you’re hesitating. You, who rarely second-guess yourself, now unsure about sharing the details of last night with one of closest people in your life.

Or maybe the surprise lies closer to home. How easily the words form in his own mind, bypassing the overthinking that usually rules him.

He has ten minutes to think before Penelope supposedly calls, but he doesn’t need ten minutes, or even ten seconds, because the answer is already there, so obvious it practically tumbles out of him.

"The truth," he hums against the crown of your hair. "You should tell her the truth."

You’re quiet for a while.

“Are you sure?"

For someone who invited him into your home, who let him press you into the couch cushions, spread you out on the cool tiles of the bathroom, and pull every sound he wanted from you on the soft give of your mattress—on your back, your front, even sideways—you seem awfully uncertain now. Very out of character.

So what’s changed this morning? Is it the stale morning breath he’s sure he hasn’t fixed yet? The mess of his curls sticking up in every direction from a night spent pressed into your pillows?

Or is it something much deeper that he hasn’t quite put his finger on?

The thought clings to him as his thumb brushes your stomach. "I’m sure," he says. "Are you?"

You hesitate for a beat too long, and that tiny pause lands heavy on his chest.

"This is going to change everything," you finally say, sounding somewhat like a warning.

He frowns. "Didn’t you want it to?"

"I did. I do." You pull in a breath that shakes on the way out. "Maybe we should discuss this before we say anything to anyone."

Your phone slips quietly onto the bed as you twist in his arms. Face to face.

"Do you like me?"

What kind of question is that?

"Did I seem not to like you last night?"

"No, Spencer, I need to hear it. Do you like me?"

He studies the delicate fold between your brows. He watches the quiver on your parted lips. And your eyes—watery and glossy and wide. Soft lashes framing the quiet expanse of irises that shimmer like glass.

He knows what you need. Spencer has spent most of his entire life reading people, pulling truths out of their silences and decoding what they can’t (or won’t) say. And even though he hates applying that skill to you, he knows this isn’t just about reassurance. You’re not only questioning what happened between you last night. You’re questioning what comes next.

The time glares from your phone over your shoulder: six minutes. That’s all he has to convince you that his feelings go far beyond fleeting lust or the heady haze of alcohol. Six minutes before Penelope inevitably interrupts.

But he’s not the greatest with words, is he?

Sure, he’s read more books than most people will touch in a lifetime. He can recite Edgar Allan Poe by heart and dissect layers of meaning in Dostoevsky’s prose like it’s second nature. But his own feelings don’t come wrapped in poetic declarations. That’s not who he is.

What he can do, though, is tell you the truth.

“You know how you told me I could have you anytime I want?”

A strand of hair brushes against your cheek as you nod.

“You’ve already had me from the very beginning.”

Your gaze softens, then you sigh sweetly, and he knows without a doubt that the truth is exactly what you need. “Before all the sex?”

“Before we even kissed.”

The distance between you slowly becomes nonexistent. You slot your knee between his thighs, a lick of smile curling at the corner of your lips.

“So… when I ran my foot up your leg?”

His lopsided smile is no different from yours. “No.”

“Last week when I wore your cardigan because the AC got too cold?”

“You looked really pretty in it, but no.”

“Last month?”

“Even before that.”

You click your tongue. “Give me a clue. A hint.”

But you don’t need clues. Clues are for puzzles, for cases that demand solving. This has never been a mystery. He’s known it for longer than he cares to admit, and he wonders if you’re asking because you genuinely don’t see it or because you just want to hear him say it.

Either way, he’ll happily say the truth as plainly as it exists in his mind.

“From the moment you joined the team.” You pause for just a heartbeat, and he reaches out to brush away the stray of hair slipping down into your eyes. “You probably didn't notice, but I couldn't stop staring at you.”

“You’re lying,” you accuse softly.

“I’m a terrible liar.”

He watches as you mull over his words. He knows you’re trying to decide whether to believe him, though he doesn’t think it’s really a question of if. You already know he’s telling the truth.

Your voice is awfully quiet that he has to perk his ears for it.

“What took you so long then?”

Because while he’s a terrible liar, he’s always been painfully good at keeping his heart to himself. Years of compartmentalizing, of burying emotions under layers of logic and detachment, have made it almost second nature. And maybe that’s why it took him so long.

That, and bad timing.

Countless abductions.

A never-ending chase after unsubs.

Death of a team mate.

And prison.

God, prison.

He wonders if these are valid reasons or just excuses. Had there ever been a perfect moment? Or had he let his fears and the chaotic nature of his job push his personal happiness to the sidelines too often?

The words knot in his throat, and in the end, all he can muster is an apology.

“I’m sorry.”

For waiting so long.

For not saying this sooner.

For only finding the courage to make a move under the guise of flirtation and champagne.

He’s selfish. He is. Because he's reaching for you based on his time, his terms, waiting until he was ready to fit you neatly into his schedule. But you simply shake your head. Because that's what you are, isn't it?

You’re selfless, and so profoundly lovely that you offered yourself to him last night without reservation. And now you’re even more radiant, wrapped in the soft light of vulnerability, tinged with doubt, yet always so giving. Pulling him closer to your chest with a hand on his back. Fingers splay across his skin, nails dragging idly along his spine.

“Don’t be,” you reply, feeling his body expand and deflate under your palm when he breathes. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

See? Selfless. The least he can do now is give you back the words you need to hear, the assurance you deserve to hear. Your foreheads press together, and he reverently lays his hand on your cheek, spreading lean fingers into your hair.

“If you must know, I do like you.”

But the word feels so inadequate for what he’s finally trying to tell you. Like doesn't even scratch the surface of how much space you take up in his mind.

"I more than like you,” he decides to add.

It doesn’t take long before you kiss him. Soft petals bloom warmly against his mouth, puffing humid breath he tastes on his tongue. A blissful moan he swallows greedily, lets it settle deep in his chest, his bones, his veins, filling every corner of him with the sweetest weight of you.

A flutter of lashes skims against his cheekbone when you tilt your head, pulling back by the barest inch. “You’ve made a huge mistake, by the way.”

The pad of his fingers presses gently on your scalp. “Why?”

“You’re never getting rid of me now.”

His thumb moves against your hairline as he takes in your words. For a moment, all he can do is absorb them, replay them, savor them. Then his eyes soften, the corners crinkling with genuine delight, and he lets out a soft huff of laughter that melts right into the narrow space between you.

He scoots impossibly closer, hoping your skin will somehow mold with his. Because after all the surprisingly creative positions he discovered with you last night, it’s the only conclusion he can come to: you fit into him. Perfectly. Soft curves finding their place against the lines of his frame, every piece of you adhering like glue to his skin.

Chest to chest, nose to nose, and lips so maddeningly close to yours that he can still taste the warmth of your breath, sweet and intoxicating in its nearness. It’s enough to drive him a little insane, though he’d argue he’s always been slightly off-center where you’re concerned.

His fingers twitch, ready to close that infinitesimal gap when the sharp buzz of your phone suddenly slices through the moment.

Six minutes.

That’s all the time the universe has granted him, and it’s woefully too short.

"Might need to block her number," you mutter under your breath as you shift slightly to reach for your phone. He watches the way your fingers fly over the screen rapidly before placing the device back on the side table.

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth." Then you drop on him like a dead weight, limbs tangling in the most inconvenient ways until your head is tucked in the crook of his neck. "Also sent her an eggplant and water emoji.”

A crease forms between his brows. “What does that mean?”

You fail to keep in your laughter. “You don’t want to know.”

He’s fairly certain he does want to know. In fact, he’s starting to realize he wants to know everything about you now that you’ve given him the chance. Beyond the pull of bodies and the way they slot together so seamlessly, beyond the electricity of skin against skin.

Though he can’t deny his curiosity at one precise moment, the way you’d slightly gasped when his fingers accidentally brush around the base of your throat. He wouldn’t mind knowing what that meant for you, and, surprisingly, what that even implied for himself.

But as intriguing as that is, it’s not what lingers the most. It’s the subtleties he wants to unravel, the pieces of you he hadn’t even realized he’d been aching to explore.

Your wit, your thoughts, your mind—that lovely, intricate thing he’s admired for so long. Full of nuances and depths he hadn’t even realized he’d only been skimming the surface of. He’s sure there’s something far greater than even his endless mind could have imagined that ties to the beautiful shape of you.

And you’re so beautiful. He’s known that for years, but mere hours ago, he learned it in an entirely new language. Even when he understands seven different ways the world chooses to communicate and speaks four fluently, yours is his favorite.

Yours doesn’t need words or perfect pronunciation. It’s instinctive and warm, written in every sigh, every glance, every unspoken verse that linger in the subtle shift of your body. In every nuance of your taste.

God, your taste.

He knows you’re right, skin can’t be sweet. The dichotomy isn’t lost in him. Yet it doesn’t matter, because not even the crisp, effervescent bite of champagne compares to the warmth of you. Not even sugar, and he basically lives on sugar. In chocolate-sprinkled donuts that he grabs on the way to work, in the endless cups of coffee that fuel his day.

You’re something else entirely, beyond comprehension.

And if one night was enough to saccharine his senses with you, he can only imagine what forever could do.

[verstappen-cult]

PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.

✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.

content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.

GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.

However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.

Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.

"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.

Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.

"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."

Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.

Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.

"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"

“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.

His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.

Max likes it when you praise him during sex.

Especially when he surrenders himself to you.

"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.

You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.

“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.

You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.

Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.

He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.

Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.

“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”

You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.

“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”

“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”

You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”

“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.

“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.

“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.

“What do you need?”

“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”

“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.

His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.

“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”

Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.

You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.

Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.

You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.

Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.

And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.

You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.

You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.

“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”

You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.

Max is mesmerized by the view.

And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.

“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.

He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.

His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.

Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.

Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.

“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”

do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.

[raytoebiter]

Tunes of your heartbeat ‧₊˚♪𝄞࿐₊˚⊹

sypnosis; In which your fate somehow gets entangled into a jumble of mess between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. Or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. The question is; did the curse work?

a scaramouche x f!reader SMAU

• Genre; hate at first sight, slowburn, intense rivalry, also intense rivalry in?? who gets to?? pamper each other more?? yeah, rivals to lovers, scara doesn't know how to love, punk music, yakult and swiss miss, senior highschool love, bonding through music, confessions through music, hanging out in ugly places vibes, senior-high typa thing?, late highschool, about-to-be graduatees, and etcetera:)

• Warnings; mommy issues, a fuck ton of curses (be warned), mentions of alcohol and probably a few panic attacks here and there, sewersidal mentions, kys jokes, vulgar jokes, like very vulgar. 18+ not for wattpad purposes but bc it's too inappropriate and vulgar😭

• Taglist is open! ask to be added or removed!

• Status; ongoing. no update schedule, and irregular hiatuses.

inspiration; from the sidelines bkdk fic ao3, sleeping sirens' songs omg and this one fic that i made over a year ago which is the root of this SMAU

— notes..

- let me know if you want to be added as a twt user in this SMAU too!

- feel free to picture yourself however you want:)

- all the titles in this SMAU are songs:D

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╰┈➤ playlists; curse these feelings (scara's playlist) || fuck these feelings (name's playlist)

╰┈➤ profiles; the five horsemen of stupidity (name's group) || yacult (scara's group)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ PLAYING... FIRST BEAT ✰ .ᐟ

Prologue

I. Shut me up (by a punch)

II. Get it up

III. Situations

IV. Don't you dare forget the sun

V. Fake it

VI. I don't care

VII. Knives and Pens

VIII. Pretty Handsome Awkward

IX. Kick me

X. Another life

XI. Sink or Swim

XII. Aneurysm

XIII. Besitos

XIV. Heart Shaped Box

XV. Young Blood Spills Tonight

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ PLAYING... SECOND BEAT ✰ .ᐟ

XVI. My Love

XVII. Wut I Liek Abt U

XVIIII. Scream

tba.

AND... PAUSE!

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authors notes - i've been literally thinking of making this since uhhhhhhh idk last week ago? this fic was actually inspired by a bkdk ao3 fanfic. and what drove me to really do this smau is that—i really like the idea of applying real life things to fiction. like please tell me everytime u see yakult, it reminds u of this fic. or cafés. i want this fic to exude that vibe and by that, ill try my best to do exactly that.

(ask to be added in comments)

[melancholyhigh]

CRUSH CULTURE.

ft. college au!leon x reader

synopsis. you fuck up at being leon’s wingman, ruining his chances of getting a valentine’s day fuck. he’s frustrated and takes his anger out on you.

tags. 2.8k words. smut. mean!leon, lowk angsty, reader is kinda pathetic, angry fuck, dry humping, cunnilingus, dom!leon, rough sex, unprotected p in v, degradation, name calling (bitch, whore etc.), happy ending (?).

note. i’m sorry for being so inactive and rarely being online. school sucks so bad. i hope you guys can accept this as a formal apology. (let’s ignore that this is 2 days late.)

masterlist. reblogs & comments are highly welcomed :3

You aren’t the biggest fan of Valentine’s Day. You're sick of seeing everyone fall in love, watching lovers exchange cheesy gifts and bashful smiles. You’re sick of people pretending they love each other more than they actually do. No, you’re sick of being left out.

You were a hopeless romantic, chasing love only for it to fall flat. You were obsessed with finding your other half, the person who would cherish you as much as you treasured them. You didn’t know if you loved love or just the idea of it, but it wouldn’t matter.

You’re only hopeless as you help the man you liked hook up with someone at a shitty college party.

It’s pathetic, truly, chatting up some sorority girls and putting a good name out for Leon while he stood beside you. You didn’t get why he couldn’t do it himself. He was handsome, albeit a bit awkward, but so were you. It’s why you two got along anyway. Leon was watching as you tried to get the drunk girl’s attention on him. Throughout the night, your wingman skills had only failed. They either did not pay attention to you or paid too much attention to you.

You were sick of it. You would have preferred staying in your dorm room and rewatching one of your favourite rom-coms. But you were only a fool, trying to help your friend out. It hurt more being there with him as he lamely tried to pick up girls in front of you. You didn’t know what was more pathetic, his terrible jokes or the state you were, absolutely heartbroken that he wouldn’t give you the time of day he’d give to random girls.

Maybe it’s faith’s cruel way of commentating on your desire for love by making you play cupid for the only person you seem to care about more than yourself.

You and Leon had something special, or you had hoped so. You met in your first year of college. You were both fucking awkward that you had to initiate the first conversation. Majoring in similar subjects, you both had gotten along well. You would even say you were best friends, but you knew deep down you always wanted more.

Ever since you first met, you found him enthralling. It only got worse as you got closer. Learning more about him seemed to solidify your pining for him. You were the only person he talked to, and vice versa. You confided in each other, maybe more than what close friends should, so it was only inevitable that he would share with you that he wanted to lose his virginity.

You had looked at him perplexed. Leon was pretty attractive, and maybe you were biased, but how had no one fucked him? You’ve seen the way girls look at him, blushing when he even glances at them for a second.

That is when Leon told you he planned on trying to hook up with some girl at the party, and he wanted your help because he knew he would fuck up somehow. You had humoured him. Nothing more romantic than taking a random girl home on Valentine’s Day and fucking her brains out.

–-

“It’s not that serious, Leon,” you groaned for the umpteenth time. You were both walking back to his apartment after unsuccessfully trying to hook him up with some sorority girl. He was grumbling behind you, pissed and sexually frustrated.

“It was your fault.” You roll your eyes at his statement. When you reach the door of his flat, you observe as he clumsily takes his keys out, trying to open the door. He finally manages to open the door, and you enter, taking your shoes off before settling on his couch.

You watch him beyond amused at his predicament as he paces back and forth in front of you.

“Why did you have to mention that? They were so into me before you fucked it up,” he huffs, stilling his movement to glare at you.

“C’mon, Leon. I’m sure they couldn’t give a fuck that you’re a nerd,” you said, repeating the same word you had let slip when you were praising your beloved best friend. You peered back up at him, acting casual as if his icy gaze didn’t have your heart beating wildly against your chest. You rarely saw him angry, and when he was, he never directed it to you.

“You ruined my chances at finally getting laid. I don’t know how to talk to these girls. You’re the only person I have.” He’s frustrated with you for fucking up whatever chance he finally had at popping his cherry. Even though logically it’s not your fault nor your duty to get his dick wet, he didn’t want to take responsibility right now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you sighed, standing up and moving towards him. You try to put a comforting hand on Leon’s shoulder, and he shrugs your touch off him. You don’t take it to heart. He’s a few inches taller than you, head slightly tilted as he looks down at you.

“Yeah? Well, now I have no one to fuck tonight.”

“I can change that,” you quip, and you instantly freeze at your own statement. You part your lips lightly in shock as you observe Leon’s reaction. It was a freudian slip, and it seemed to be happening more often than you’d like.

He continues looking down at you with furrowed brows as he tries to comprehend what you said. He thinks this might affect your friendship if you even mean what you said. He was horny, being teased all night by pretty girls in skimpy dresses, only to be denied, fucking furious too.

“Really?” He responds, somehow stepping closer to you. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and you try to back up, only to be pushed against the wall by him. His stare is still cold, piercing through you. He’s still pissed at you.

“Are you still mad?” You mumbled, your back flat against the wall of his living room. You knew the answer. You just wanted him to say it. Maybe you found his mean side more attractive than you’d like to admit. It was so rare to see him like this — a usually composed man so broken.

“Yes, I’m still fucking angry. Do you want me or not?” He seethes. You squeeze your thighs together at the tone he uses. You were so pathetic, getting wet at him berating you, but any attention was good attention.

He notices your reaction, grinning to himself. “You backing down?”

You shake your head no in response.

“Beg for it then. Beg for me to fuck you. That’s what you want, right?” He says, mocking you. It’s as if he knows how deep your desire burns for him, how badly you’d do anything for him if it meant he noticed you. His hands grasp your face, his fingers squishing your cheeks together as he forces your head back against the wall so you look up at him.

“Please, Leon. Fuck me. ‘M all yours.” You plead through pursed lips. Your eyes are glossy, and he’s laughing at your desperate nature. He would have never expected his best friend to be a whiny mess within his grasp.

He lets go of your face before leaning down, capturing your lips into his for a needy kiss. Your eyes flutter shut, and a surprised gasp escapes you. Teeth clashing, you’re whimpering desperately against his lips as you entangle your fingers into his soft golden locks. His hands trail down to your hips, gripping them as he moves his body against yours.

You let out a soft moan, and he pulled apart from the passionate kiss. Both your lips are swollen and covered with your shared saliva. He continues to grope your body eagerly as he pushes you further into the wall. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear you.”

Biting your lip, you try not to let any moans slip free while he toys with your sensitive body through your clothes. He hooks one of your legs over his hip while he explores your body. He grinds his hardening cock against your crotch, and the action does little to quell the ache inside you.

Your back arches off the wall, your head tipping back as you try to buck your hips to his. Digging your nails into his shirt, he hisses slightly, but your movements don’t get past him.

“So fucking desperate,” he moans loudly.

He continues to rock his clothed erection against your cunt. The rough fabric of your pants provides enough friction through your damp underwear to your clit. Your hand clamps around your mouth shut, suppressing your whines as you near your climax.

Leon’s eyes close while he groans lowly at the pleasure coursing through him as he ruts against you. He wants so badly to feel your dripping cunt against his throbbing length. Just as you’re about to finish, he pulls away, panting, and the feeling in your core dissipates.

“I want to fuck you properly.” You’re unsure if he knew what he had just done, but with the smug look he’s giving you, you’re positive it’s on purpose.

You push yourself off the wall of his living room, and with trembling legs, you follow him to his bedroom. You were familiar with the area and used to the messy appearance while you two were either doing work or binging shows. But it’s different now, he’s going to fuck you dumb in it.

You both begin to rid yourself of your clothes once you’re inside. You’re fully nude, lying flat on Leon’s mattress, and your skin feels tacky with sweat as it clings to his soft sheets. Leon is only in his boxers, precum staining the fabric, as his strong palms spread your bent legs apart to admire your bare pussy.

You realise that this is most likely his first time seeing one other than in porn videos he jerks himself off to. He marvels at how wet you are, your folds glistening with your slick. Leaning down, he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you.

His tongue teases your entrance before slowly moving to your clit. He alternates between sucking on your sensitive nub and lapping at it slowly. He looks like he’s concentrated as he focuses on pleasing your cunt, his brows furrowed and his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs.

You can’t help the moans and sighs that slip past your lips while he eats you out. The pleasure is nearly dizzying as you grip the sheets. Your hips are bucking against his tongue, and Leon groans as you use his face. He’s not so subtly grinding against the sheets, his cock painfully hard as he fails to relieve the sensation.

Tentatively, he slurps at you, drinking in your essence. The wet, sloppy noises your cunt makes are embarrassing, but he’s obsessed with it and your taste. It’s addictive. He sucks at your clit roughly, adoring the reaction you give him. Your tummy clenches as he pays attention to your throbbing bud. Your sounds are getting more frequent as your orgasm quickly approaches you.

When you finally come undone, your thighs are quivering around his head as he revels in your release. He parts from your cunt, his lips coated in your cum like lip gloss as he licks them clean. Trying to collect yourself, your chest heaves as you pant heavily.

Leon slips his boxers down, revealing his hard-on. His cock was flushed red and dripping with precum as he stroked it. It was average in length but quite thick and prettier than you had imagined. But you shouldn’t act surprised.

You let out a whimper when he slid the tip of his cock through your folds stained with your cum and his saliva. Your pussy was overstimulated, spasming as he teased your entrance with his head.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch,” he groans, gripping your hip to steady himself. The heat of your cunt was welcoming as it tried to suck him inside you. His tip touches your overly sensitive clit. He was quickly losing his composure, desperate to fuck you open.

You both moan simultaneously when he fully enters his length inside of you. Your walls were sucking his cock deeping into you, filling you up to the brim with nothing but him.

You had not imagined your first time with Leon like this. You daydreamed of him taking you out on a cute date before undressing you and then fucking you slowly on a bed littered with rose petals. You did not anticipate that he’d split you open on his cock as a last resort taking his sexual frustration out on you. You can’t complain with how good he’s fucking you, even if it’s out of spite.

He begins thrusting his cock in and out of tight pussy, groaning. You feel each ridge and vein of his cock as he fucks the shape into you. You sometimes forget how well-built he is, usually concealed by his clothes, sweat dripping down his muscular frame.

“Your cock feels so fuckin’ good, Leon,” you gasped out loud, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you out of his fat cock.

“This was your plan, huh? You wanted me to fuck you, whore.” He says as he punctuates each word with a thrust.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock presses against you deliciously. You did want him all to yourself, but you wouldn’t go as far as to sabotage him. You’re unable to answer him, too drunk on his cock bullying into that one spot inside of you.

“Answer me, bitch.” He huffs, gripping your jaw and positioning your face to his. He looks into your eyes only to note how they can barely stay open. His hips stutter at your fucked out expression. He was so fucking close, his abs flexing, only holding out so you can cum first.

“Y- Yeah, Leon. Want to you all for myself,” you stammer incoherently, tears collecting at your waterline as he pounds into your oversensitive cunt. Your walls grip around his cock sporadically as you near your climax.

“You like me too, then?” he mocks through clenched teeth. Your pussy hugs him tightly, and he thinks he might never want to leave your warm embrace.

“I’m so close,” you cry out, your body squirming in his hold. Your peak was rapidly approaching as he continued his assault on your pussy.

“Answer the question then you can come,” he whines, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, leaving marks as he nears his peak.

“Mhm! Yes, I’ve always fucking liked you, Leon.” You cried out, eager to expose all your secrets to him if it meant you came. As you climax, your pussy milks Leon’s cock as it gushes around him.

“Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum,” Leon moans, his voice breathy as his orgasm crashes after yours. He doesn’t know if it’s the weight of your confession or the whimpers that escape your throat that send butterflies in him as he spills into you. He kisses you one last time, moaning into you as he rides his high.

Pulling out, he collapses right next to you. You’re both panting, covered in cum and sweat. A wave of exhaustion overcomes you, and you hope he doesn’t bring up what you said amidst fucking. You’re content pretending it didn’t happen if it meant you wouldn’t get to face your fears.

“Thank you for uh,” Leon trails off, and it's like a switch flipped. He’s bashful at mentioning that he had just lost his virginity as if he wasn’t calling you a whore a few minutes ago. Turning to his side, you come nearly face-to-face with him once again.

“Mhm, you’re welcome, I think.” You’re still unsure how you feel about the situation. Finally, you had fucked him, but what significance did it hold to him? Your eyes flutter shut, sleep finally overcoming your wrecked body. You expected the same would happen to Leon, but you were wrong. Leon was in deep thought.

Leon calls your name, cutting your sleep short. You snap your eyes open, sitting up, you await his question with your arms crossed. He looked uneasy, but you’re too drained to question why.

“Did you mean what you said? That you liked me.” His voice is quiet as he gazes at your form.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumbled in response. What was even the point of lying anymore? His cum was dripping between your thighs. What is the worst he can do? You think you can already guess his response. Guilt was eating at you. He wouldn’t be in this position if you did what he wanted. You added, “Sorry for fucking up your night.”

It’s quiet, and you’re nervously trying to gauge his reaction until he breaks the silence.

“I think I found someone better,” he responds. You laugh at the mere absurdity of the entire situation.

“It took fucking me to find that out?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

herogasm ~ soldier boy;the boys

word count: 3678

request?: no

description: in which she’s trying to leave the supe orgy, just to stumble into the room of the man who started it

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (fingering, praise, unprotected p in v), mentions of herogasm (the event, not the episode)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I didn’t want to be there. There was a number of reasons why, but the most prominent one was definitely that I did not want to be involved in an orgy full of Supes.

My best friend, Maria, had convinced me to come. I had gone through a pretty hard breakup that left me basically inconsolable for days. I only left the house to go to work, and even then I was very much just operating on autopilot. Maria wanted to get me out of the house, so she came over and told me she had gotten an invite to some big Supe party and intended to take me with her to get my mind off of things.

She didn’t tell me until we showed up that the “party” was the infamous Supe orgy known as “Herogasm”.

Apparently, Maria had hooked up with a Supe who had an in to the party. She got the invite and thought an orgy would be the perfect idea to get me over my breakup. There was just one little flaw in her plan: I was not an orgy person. I was insecure enough about my body that I felt awkward being naked in front of one person, let alone an entire house full of strangers. Supe strangers at that.

Maria abandoned me the minute we walked through the door, taken by the Supe she fucked to get here. I was left, on my own in the corner, while a lot of naked people walked or fucked around me. A couple glanced in my direction, one even tried to proposition me, which I politely declined. I wasn’t sure how long I was stood there before everything became overwhelming. I needed to get away from all those people. I needed to be somewhere with no moaning or screaming or sex noises. Somewhere that I could calm myself down before I left.

I stumbled through the house, feeling my heart pounding harder and harder with every overwhelming second that passed. Behind almost every door I could hear more moaning and squelching. It felt like there was no true escape from it - there was even people fucking outside - until I turned the knob on a door that led to a seemingly empty room. I stumbled in, slamming the door behind me and sliding down it until I was sat on the floor. I brought my knees up to my chest and rested my head against my knees.

“Well, hello there.”

I jumped at the sudden sound of someone’s voice. I looked up to see I had hidden myself away in a bedroom. The main bedroom, I concluded, judging by the huge size of the room, the bed, and the fact there was a mini bar in the corner of the room. A mini bar with a man stood behind it. A very handsome man in nothing but a silk robe.

“Shit,” I sighed. “I’m sorry, I - ”

“No, don’t be sorry,” he said. “Judging by the fact that you still have clothes on, you’re not here for the orgy.”

I shook my head. “One of my friends brought me here. She didn’t even tell me what it was until we pulled up.”

He looked thoughtful for a moment before stepping away from the mini bar. I tensed up as he got closer to me. I was trying to figure out if I’d get out fast enough when he reached me. He reached over me and turned the lock on the knob.

“Stay as long ad you want,” he told me. “Not that anyone usually comes in unannounced anyways. I think you’re the first person to stumble into my room in years.”

My eyes widened as he started walking away. “Y-Your room? So...you’re the host here?”

He turned back and raised an eyebrow at me. “You serious?” I nodded. “I created this whole fuckin’ thing. Herogasm is my baby.”

That’s when it finally clicked. “Holy shit, you’re Soldier Boy!”

He grinned at me before he took a sip of his drink.

I couldn’t believe it. I had stumbled into the room of the most famous Supe in the entire world and I didn’t even recognize him at first! God, this couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

“You don’t have to huddle up by the door like a scared kid,” he said. “I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I wasn’t sure if I could take his word for it. I knew he was a Supe and all, and Supes were supposed to protect people, but he did have me locked in his room, while he was naked no less. Well, besides a robe. I’d be helpless against him if he did decide he wanted to hurt me.

Despite knowing this, I still slowly got to my feet. He was pouring up another glass as I walked further into his giant room. It was like the size of my living room and kitchen combined. I was in awe of it so much that I could hear Soldier Boy chuckling to himself. He extended a glass to me and gestured to the bed. I took the glass, hesitantly, and sat down.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Bourbon,” he responded. “Some of the best shit money can buy.”

I wasn’t much of a drinker. I could smell the strong, alcoholic scent before even raising the glass to my lips. I took a small sip and immediately cringed at the stinging feeling that ran down my throat. Soldier Boy laughed.

“That’s God awful,” I groaned.

“You just don’t appreciate fine alcohol,” he said.

“I appreciate it when it doesn’t taste like battery acid,” I retorted. “What are you doing in here, anyways? If you created this...thing, shouldn’t you be partaking?”

He grunted and took another mouthful of his own drink. I figured that was the best I would be getting from him.

“How did you get in?” he asked. “It’s invite only, and usually the only non-Supes invited are hookers.”

I looked down at my glass again, debating on taking another sip. “My friend hooked up with a Supe who gave her the invite. She lied at the door and told them I had been invited, too.”

“Then she ditched you?”

I nodded. “Probably getting her pussy super-stretched as we speak.”

That made him laugh. I felt some sense of pride at that. The most famous Supe in the world was laughing at my jokes. That had to be bragging rights.

“Sounds like a shit friend, then,” he commented.

“No, she is a good friend. She’s very...sexually liberated. This type of thing is very up her alley. Me, not so much.”

“Then why did she take you here?”

I gazed down at the glass of auburn liquid. The memory of my recent breakup brought back all my negative emotions. With one swift gulp, I finished the contents of the glass. I shuddered as it burned down my throat.

“My boyfriend of four years dumped me,” I said. “Just woke up one day and told me he didn’t feel the same way anymore. After we had just moved in together a few months prior.”

Soldier Boy whistled. “That sounds rough.”

“It was the worst fucking day of my life,” I muttered. “Maria, my friend, I guess she thought a super-sex party would be the best way to get me to move on. The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and all that.”

“That never works. Trust me.”

Oh, there was a story there. I could tell. One that was probably connected to the reason he wasn’t participating in his own orgy. Normally, I wouldn’t pry. I didn’t know Soldier Boy. He would probably forget all about me once I left his room. But the bourbon was starting to get to me. I found myself leaning forward, close enough that I could smell his aftershave.

“What happened?” I asked him. “What made you not want to participate in Herogasm?”

He looked at me. I could tell he was debating on telling me. I wasn’t sure if I should push the issue further than those questions, even if my curiosity was getting the best of me.

Finally, he sighed and said, “My girl left me because of one of these things.”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. I couldn’t even remember who Soldier Boy’s “girl” was in that moment.

“We used to host together,” he explained. “Once a year, we would allow each other to fuck whoever we wanted at Herogasm. One night, one meaningless orgy, and that was it. Then, a few years back, she comes to me the day after Herogasm and she tells me that she met someone that night. I don’t know, I guess they talked in between the fucking or some shit. She dumped me on the spot for the guy. Took all of her shit and left that same day.”

Okay, definitely a lot worse than my sob story. My ex completely shattered my heart, sure, but he didn’t leave me for someone else. Especially not someone that he fucked in our own house, during a party that we were hosting together. Even if they had an agreement that they could sleep around during Herogasm, that was a huge hit to trust. One that I don’t think I would’ve ever gotten over in his shoes.

“Since then, I haven’t participated,” he continued. “I’ll host, since it’s my creation, but I usually just walk around, make sure everything is going okay and everyone is having a good time, then I hide away in here until everyone gets too tired from the fucking and either leaves or falls asleep.”

“Why keep hosting it if you don’t want to participate anymore?” I asked. “Why not hand it off to someone else?”

“Because it’s my thing. I created it, and it got bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. I thought about cancelling it after Countess left me, but it’s become this huge thing to Supes and their groupies. I don’t want to disappoint anyone by cancelling it, and I wouldn’t want anyone else stealing it from me and making it a shit version of what it used to be.”

Before I could respond, there was a bang against his door. We both jumped and turned towards the door. Judging by the rhythmic beating on the door and the shouts of pleasure, it was just a couple that had decided to use Soldier Boy’s door as another fuck place. I chuckled and turned back to him. My laughter died out, though, once I realized how close we had gotten to one another. My face was mere inches away from his. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face. The closeness made my heart start pounding a little harder.

The alcohol had definitely kicked in because I did something that was very unlike me in that moment: I leaned forward and kissed him.

He was receptive right away. His free hand moved to hold the back of my head. His lips moved perfectly in time with mine. His tongue slid against my lower lip, asking permission for entrance, and I gave it to him. I let my empty glass fall to the floor, luckily the fall being cushioned by a rug next to his bed, while he placed his on the nightstand next to the bed without breaking our kiss. In one swift movement, he moved me so that I was straddling his lap, not once breaking our kiss.

His hands explored my body, running down the sides of my torso, to my hips, then over my ass. He grabbed the meaty flesh there, rocking my hips forward unintentionally (or maybe it was intentional) against him. His cock was growing hard and I could feel that the tip was starting to peak out from his robe. Suddenly, I felt very overdressed compared to him, and I wanted to change that.

I broke away and Soldier Boy watched with lust filled eye as I pulled my shirt over my head and discarded it onto the floor. I stood from his lap to unbutton my jeans and let them fall to the floor. I stepped out of them and stood in front of him, just in my lingerie. Realizing how naked I was, I felt a little shy suddenly. Like I wanted to cover myself up or make all the light in the room disappear so that he couldn’t see me. But when he pulled me forward again, standing me between his open legs, and leaned forward to start kissing over the exposed skin of my stomach, the insecurities melted away into desire again.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. “Don’t you dare think of hiding this beautiful body away from me.”

I was shocked that he knew what I was thinking, but I didn’t have time to figure out how he knew. His hands were on me again, pulling me down onto his lap and then quickly turning the two of us so that I was laying beneath him on the bed. I could feel him pressing against my inner thigh as he kissed me again, a pool of wetness starting to fill in my panties.

He moved one hand between my legs, opening them up for him, and ran his finger over the clothed material. I gasped and he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth again.

“You’re already so wet,” he noted. “How long has it been since you were touched?”

The answer was a bit embarrassing. That probably should’ve been the first sign that my relationship was going downhill, but I was too naïve to notice that we hadn’t been having sex. Or maybe just too blind to the downfalls of my relationship.

When I didn’t answer, he pulled my panties to the side and slid a finger into me. The sudden protruding felt painful at first. I dug my nails into his arms hard, but didn’t leave any marks or didn’t seem to hurt him in any way. He slowly started thrusting his finger in an out of me until the pain turned to pleasure, and then he added a second finger.

“You’re so fucking tight,” he commented. “That asshole must not have stretched this pussy out in a long time. Either that, or he had a microdick.”

His fingers gained speed. I could hear them becoming wetter and wetter every time he thrusted them inwards. I was well beyond cloud nine, probably cloud twenty at this rate. Whenever I opened my eyes all I could see was stars, and Soldier Boy’s face watching me as I came undone beneath him. He was an expert in ways I could only dream of, reaching places I didn’t even know could feel so good. He had me on the edge of my orgasm, when suddenly the pleasure was ripped away as he pulled his fingers from me.

I whined, trying to reach for him to get the feeling back. But he pulled away from me, putting the two fingers covered in my slick into his mouth and sucking them dry.

“You taste just as sweet as I thought you would,” he said.

“Please,” was all I could manage. It almost sounded pathetic how desperate I sounded.

He smirked down at me. “I’ll give you what you want. I just want you to cum on my dick instead of on my fingers.”

He sat up and untied his robe, throwing it to the floor along with the other discarded clothes. His cock finally sprang free, standing at attention against his stomach. My eyes widened at how big he was. I should’ve anticipated it, I figured most Supe men were probably well hung, but it a shock none the less. I wondered if I would even be able to take his whole length.

He spit on his hand to lube himself up, moved my panties to the side again, and then lined his tip up with my entrance.

“Ready?” he asked. I nodded and he began to push into me.

My gasps and moans filled the room as he slowly slid into me, inch by inch, almost at a painfully slow rate. I felt so full with him completely inside of me. I could feel the burn of him stretching me out around his girth, but even the burn felt like pleasure. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to me. I kissed him again, hungrily, desperately, and he got my silent message to start moving.

His thrusts were slow at first, testing the waters. It felt so good to feel him pushing in and out of me. His dick was so long that I could feel it not only poking my g-spot, but absolutely abusing it with every thrust. It sent shockwaves of pleasure through me that I wasn’t even sure I had felt before. My head fell back onto the pillow, letting moans tumble from my lips as they felt the need to.

“F-Fuck,” I breathed. “S-Soldier Boy.”

“Ben,” he said, not breaking his pace. “Call me Ben.”

“Ben,” I moaned instead. Definitely a better name to say in bed. “Fuck, it feels so good.”

“Yeah? I think I can tell.”

I didn’t have to open my eyes to know he had a cocky smirk on his face.

I ran my hands from his shoulders down his toned back to his ass. I gave it a squeeze, urging him to go faster. I could feel my high coming back, and I desperately needed to chase it. He did as I wanted and his thrusts became faster, rougher. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with my moans and his grunts. He took hold of my legs and wrapped them around his waist, giving himself a better vantage point for his rough thrusts. I screamed out as his dick pounded against my g-spot, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“I can feel you’re close,” he said. “I can feel this fucking pussy getting tighter. Cum all over my cock. You can do it, beautiful, I know you can.”

His words of praise and encouragement sent me toppling over the edge. Stars exploded from my vision as my body trembled and convulsed around him. It was the hardest I could ever remember orgasming in my life, and it was definitely the best orgasm I could remember having. I felt like I was flying off of the bed and high into the sky, never to return to Earth again.

If it weren’t for Ben above me, still thrusting and whispering words of praise into my ear, I probably would’ve thought I had actually floated away.

His release came shortly after my own. I could feel his dick twitching inside of me before he was coating my walls. His arms tightened around me as he rode out his own orgasm, grinding into me until he has squeezed every last drop into me. He pushed himself up so he could look down at me again.

“You look fucking gorgeous after being filled with my cum,” he commented.

I felt myself grow hot at the compliment, but my body felt too heavy to cover myself.

“Are you...are you on the pill or anything?” he asked. “I probably should’ve thought of that before, but I was kind of...busy. I can get you a plan b. We have plenty of those lying around for this day.”

I lazily shook my head. “I’m good. I’ve been on birth control since I was a teenager. Besides, I don’t think Supes can reproduce, can they?”

“We’ve been unsuccessful in that field thus far. Thank God.”

I started to chuckle, but it turned to a gasp as I felt him pulling his soft cock out of me. Even when it was soft, it was big. I could hardly believe all of that fit inside of me.

He took hold of my panties and pulled them down my legs, gazing at the mess he had left between them.

“That’s a fucking beautiful sight,” he commented. I rolled my eyes and tried to close my legs, but he quickly held them open. “No, let me see this for another little bit at least.”

“You’re fucking weird.”

“You just fucked me, what does that say about you?”

He eventually climbed back into his bed next to me. I could still hear the orgy raging on outside of the door. I chuckled to myself, causing Ben to look over at me and arch an eyebrow.

“I fucked a Supe at the Supe orgy,” I explained. “But just one Supe, and it was the guy who created the whole fucking thing. I was planning on leaving when I stumbled into your room.”

“Well, thank God you didn’t.”

He put an arm around me and pulled me into his chest.

“Maybe getting under someone does help you get over someone,” I said. “I don’t even remember my ex’s name now.”

His chest vibrated as he laughed. “That is a good thing. If you find yourself remembering, though, you know where I live. You can always come over and I’ll help you forget again.”

I looked up at him. “Really? This wasn’t a one time thing?”

“I don’t intend for it to be. Did you?” I shook my head. “Okay, good. Since we’re on the same page, my offer still stands. Although, the offer actually extends to any time you want to come over, for any reason. Not just for some rebound sex.”

“That’s a dangerous offer. In a house this big, a bed this big, I might never want to leave. I might just live in this bed, honestly.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

We both laughed as he pulled me in to kiss my forehead. I made a mental note to thank Maria for dragging me to the super-fuck party when I finally found her again. Turns out, it wasn’t such a bad time after all.

[cuteandhughesy]

This Love | Mikko Rantanen

summary: you and mikko used to hook - up, but after a classic miscommunication, your arrangement ends, leaving nothing but sour greetings between you both. It doesn't help that mikko is your neighbour - and everything seems to end up with you on each others doorstep.

15.8 K

warnings: NSFW! enemies to lovers | ex! friends with benefits | angst | asshole! ross colton | asshole! mikko rantanen | descriptions of blood and a cut (reader cuts herself | alcohol | suggestive themes + comments | smut | kissing | brief breast play | oral (f receiving) | fingering | unprotected p in v intercourse | pulling out | read at your own discretion.

link to masterlist

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you switch from your left foot to your right, fingers running along the strap of your work bag. the material is a momentary distraction from the awkwardness that floods and sits thick in your apartment elevator.

there's no noise other than the hum of the elevator raising up the shaft and the gentle ding that comes with reaching every floor. you don't look around, eyes downcast at the dark green carpet.

beside you, a throat clears, a subtle reminder that you're not alone.

you can't help yourself from looking - your eyes darting to the left. mikko isn't looking at you, his eyes are focused straight ahead with his eyebrows pulled tight. his large hands are shoved in his dark gray sweat pants, his black compression shirt hugging his biceps so perfectly, that if it was 3 months ago - you probably would've pounced on him right in the elevator.

but, you don't.

three months ago, yourself and mikko were actively jumping each others bones. always stealing glances in the lobby, groping each other in the hallway, mikko trailing kisses along your neck while you tried to unlock your door, and having sex: on a regular basis.

it was pretty much dating - only without the labels and commitment. it was good while it lasted. really good.

you had been new to the building when you introduced yourself to your handsome, tall, and blond neighbour. his accent had your stomach swooping, and the way his large hand had covered yours as they meet in a greeting had your cheeks flushing. mikko was just as enamoured with you as you were with him, and he invited you out to the bars that night. one thing led to another and he was bringing you into bed, treating you to three orgasms.

you two were obsessed with one another. he made you breakfast when he didn't have early practice, and you made him laugh after a bad game. not to mention the toe curling, earth shattering sex: you still think about it (not without cursing yourself for it). the situationship was perfect.

but then something changed. you had been at one of his games, waiting for him with the rest of the girls in the tunnel. he had greeted you like normal, large forearm wrapping around your shoulders, hips pressing into your backside. somebody said you two were a cute couple and...mikko got cold. you just laughed it off, respecting the agreement you both had, but mikko had pulled away from you. he didn't touch you for the rest of the night and didn't even hang around you at the bar afterwards.

you asked him about it in the elevator that night. you're not even sure what you fought about, and can't remember what you threw at him or what he said back. and then you went into your respective apartments and didn't talk again.

you were hurt. hurt because maybe you did want a full relationship with mikko, not just the sex and non commitment. you wanted love. you were ready for love with him. clearly, mikko found that laughable and now here you were.

today, in that elevator, you and mikko rantanen were not friends.

you sigh, looking up towards the electric screen which lets you know you're almost on your floor. you can feel mikko look over at you, but you don't give him the satisfaction of eye contact - because when there's eye contact there's usually a sour look, followed by a jab and then before you know it you're arguing.

still feeling mikko's stare, you finally give in and look back towards him. you raise your brows when he doesn't look away. "what?" you snap.

"you look like shit." he deadpans. his accent sounds thicker today, which unfortunately sends the butterflies loose in your stomach.

registering the actual words he said, rather than the finnish accent, you sigh loudly. "gee, thanks."

mikko takes a hand out of his pocket, running it through the fresh buzz cut atop his head. "rough day at work?"

your brows pull together, "why do you care?"

"i don't." mikko says immediately, "just making conversation."

"well don't."

the ding of the elevator has you looking away, breaking the staring match between you. the metal doors open at your shared floor.

you adjust the strap on your shoulder, stepping forward to leave the stuffy space. mikko moves at the same time, which results in you bumping into his strong chest. you shut your eyes in frustration, taking a sow breath through your nose.

"go ahead," mikko huffs, hand outstretched towards the hallway.

"no, please," you shove your hand out, "be my guest."

"really, I insist." mikko grits.

the elevator doors shut again and you huff, pushing the button so they slide open once more. this time you don't wait for him, pushing past mikko and down towards your apartment.

you can hear him following behind you, probably too close for your liking, so you don't dare turn around to see. digging through your bag, you find your keys.

you miss the keyhole the first time, dropping your keys to the ground.

upon hearing your hushed curse, mikko looks down to his right to see you bent over, black scrub pants hugging your hips in a way that's so right it has his own pants getting tighter.

you stand back up, shoving your key in aggressively, ignoring the blonde's snicker as you open the door. just before you are out of his sight, mikko calls you back.

he's half way inside his own apartment, gripping the door his his long fingers. "same time tomorrow?" you give him an odd look which has the corners of his lips turning up in a subtle smirk. "our elevator ride. are you going to be in a mood again?"

you squint, "is this funny to you?"

"no," he says quickly, "it's not funny. that's what makes this awkward hating thing so much fun."

"akward hating thing?" you mimick, "god you're so incredibly infuriating."

mikko tongues his cheek, "thank you."

you scoff once again, slamming the door.

—

"I had a really good night."

"yeah, me too." you lean farther against your open door, looking up to meet the eyes of your tinder hook up. you're pretty sure his name was jett, but you can't be too sure.

after, like mikko predicted, your rough day at work, you spent the night scrolling dating apps in hopes of feeling something. jett (maybe) was nice. he caught your attention and before you knew it - he was in your bed. it wasn't something you typically did - but with your long work day yesterday on top of mikko's quips, you needed to get laid. it helped that jett (you're pretty sure) was 6 foot of solid muscle.

"well," he says, patting against his jeans once, "I should probably get going to work."

you laugh, "I should as well."

then he leans in, down into your space. you can hear an apartment door open just as jett (probably) closes the gap between you both, placing a heavy kiss on your dry morning lips. he pulls away with a small smile, bidding you goodbye once more before taking the stairs down to the lobby.

the door next to yours clicks shut. "seriously?"

you suppress a groan, turning your body so you can face mikko. "what?" you grit out, crossing your arms over your horse pyjama shirt - you're pretty sure it was a gift from erik johnson, hopefully mikko doesn't remember that detail.

"parading your hook up for the world to see?" clearly, he's not concerned about you wearing his friends gift, because he's not even looking at you when he bites out the snarky question -too busy locking his apartment door.

he's dressed in a similar outfit as the night before, and knowing the time, mikko is most likely on his way to morning skate.

"like you said, rough day at work. needed to blow off some steam."

mikko eyes your sickly sweet smile, clearly trying to get him to bite back. so he mirrors your expression, pocketing his set of keys and turning towards you. "well, you've always loved blowing."

you can feel yourself flush at his sexual innuendo. your clear your throat, "are you done?"

"are you done making out with random men in the hallway?" there's a certain bitterness to his words that has you scoffing.

you can't help but bite back, "I wasn't making out with him. we were saying goodbye with a quick kiss."

"whatever you want to call it." he huffs. he moves past you without another look in your direction, his shoulders tight. mikko sounds more miserable than normal with his last comment - he almost sounded...

you laugh out and it has mikko stopping in his tracks, shooting a glare over his strong shoulder. "what?"

you clap your hands together gently, subconsciously already having turned your body in his direction. "oh my god! you're jealous."

he bellows a deep laugh, spinning back around. "jealous? me? no, i'm not jealous of your sorry excuse of a parting kiss."

"ah, you're so jealous. this is fun to watch." you smirk.

"this is a common area. leave the PDA at home next time?”

"this is my home." you tease, shrugging your shoulders.

mikko pauses, almost taking a step towards you. much to your disappointment, he doesn't engage, just licks his teeth and turns around, stalking grumpily to the elevator. his thick thighs are flexing as he moves, back muscles shifting as well. both are just as drool worthy, and it has you feeling hot again.

he makes it to the elevator and scratches the back of his neck as he waits for it to arrive.

you don't wait around, shutting the door before he can look back at you. leaning against the door, you close your eyes, taking deep breaths. and just like you always did when you saw him, you think about what went wrong.

you can never come up with an answer through, just in a loop of what was.

—

the avalanche had won their game. it had mikko feeling good, leaning back casually in the elevator as he enjoyed the peaceful journey up.

although he was a little dissatisfied because you hadn't been in the elevator, he tried not to dwell on it. because of his game performance, media had run later than usual, so he had missed you on your way home from work.

the door dings open, and mikko's subtle smile that had been adorning his face all night fell. he sees harvey, the old man who runs the maintenance at your open apartment door, a sullen look on his face as you two speak.

he starts making his way to his own apartment, and the conversation becomes clearer.

"the family upstairs had already vacated for the night," harvey sighs, "but the guys will be here really early to fix it, it's too dangerous otherwise."

mikko can't help but peek inside when he passes, and the sight before him immediately has him stopping. "holy crap," he whispers behind harvey.

you groan at his presence and it lights an unpleasant fire in his stomach.

"what happened?"

you watch as mikko looks at your ceiling, the once white plastered flat area now half fallen down, cracks covering the space. "it's fine," you sigh.

harvey's eyes widen, "it's not fine, and i'm not sure how long it will take to repair. you gotta get out of here."

you meet mikko's large blue eyes, swimming with what you think is concern. but it's mikko, you think, so it's definitely more amusement at your predicament rather than care for your well being.

harvey turns toward the 6'4 athlete behind him, "the residence above her had fell asleep with the bathtub running, which is obviously a big no no. the floor got so wet and soft that it cracked, and then when they moved around in a hurry to stop the water, the floor gave out, leaving this hole and all these cracks."

"shit," mikko whispers, and then his eyes meet yours again. "are you okay?"

you don't allow his question to affect you, only sending him a quick nod. "yes, it's fine."

harvey, although a sweet man, sends you a deadly glare. "no, i'm not letting you stay here. you got somewhere you can go?"

you frown, swallowing thickly. "maybe? hotels are still open right?"

harvey is in the middle of a shrug when mikko pushes closer to your open door. "she can stay with me."

you send him a bewildered look, "like hell i'm staying with you."

harvey's brows pull together ever so slightly, sending you a concerning glance, "you two know each other?"

"we're neighbours"

"we're friends."

you say at the same time. you give mikko another disapproving look but he just shrugs.

"we're friends and neighbours," the blonde tells harvey, sending him a shiny grin. "pack a bag and let's go. you're not staying in a hotel alone."

you grit your teeth. "mikko, it's fine."

"y/n." he warns through a smile, "I insist."

harvey just smiles, "well, what a gentleman."

you send the maintenance manager a tight lipped smile, doing your best to look happy at the new arrangement, "oh you have no idea."

harvey doesn't catch on to your tone as you spin around, slightly stomping through your apartment to gather your things. you find a duffel bag pretty quickly, shoving an array of clothes into it.

"don't forget anything," you hear mikko call into your apartment, "harvey says it might be a couple days."

you scoff to yourself, unplugging your charging cables from the outlet, "mikko you're forgetting I live here, I can pop over if i need anything."

"not if it's a construction zone."

you don't brother answering, only rolling your eyes. he is right, you won't be able to access your things properly if there's men in here patching up your ceiling and any other damages caused. so you do pack your skin care and makeup, along with things like your meds and all your underwear.

you meet mikko back at the door with slow steps. he's not looking at you when you approach, himself and harvey in a conversation about something or other and you can't be bothered to listen in and find out about. you shift on your feet, trying not to panic about having to live with your ex hookup for the foreseeable future.

you eyes wander around your now dusty apartment, the con-caved ceiling behind you and the drywall covering the floor. you knaw your lip, trying to keep your emotions at bay.

"alright, let's get out of harvey's hair and head next door." mikko says, as if he could sense your worries.

you blink tiredly, "ok."

mikko rolls his eyes when you push past him, arm brushing his abdomen. he's glad you don't linger there, because he can feel his abs tense at your touch. he follows behind you, pulling out his keys.

your standing silently at his closed door, switching weight between your two feet, no doubt uncomfortable from the weight of the bag on your shoulder and the situation you're about to be in.

mikko sighs gently, unlocking the door.

quietly, you enter. it's just like it was three months ago: suspiciously clean. you suppose it's because mikko was very rarely home, and when he was, he wasn't making a mess. mikko always liked that you were the opposite, leaving a tornado anywhere you went. you werent dirty messy, just messy enough that mikko felt like he was at home. your socks were usually left on his couch, a mug on the coffee table, your lipgloss on the bathroom counter.

you place your bag on one of his bar stools, eyeing his back suspiciously as he bends to look into his fridge. "you thirsty?" he mumbles.

"are you not going to make fun of me?" you blurt out, brows raised.

mikko faces you with a look of confusion, "why would I make fun of you?"

you scoff, "my apartment literally fell apart, leaving me helpless. this is exactly the situation you'd be sure to drive me up the wall about."

mikko has a filthy thought at your words - images of him pressing you against the wall of his room with his body. your legs spread open as he thrusts up into you.

he clears his throat, "no. i'm not going to make fun of you."

"oh." you frown slightly.

mikko catches it and his chest fills with guilt. you just look so exhausted and stressed and kind of adorable. he shakes his head to try and be rid of his feelings. "want a tea?"

you fiddle with your thumbs and sigh gently, "I only like - "

"chee tea," he interrupts you, pulling out and waving around the flavoured tea packet from the cupboard.

he pronounces it wrong, like he always has. "it's chai tea." you correct gently.

mikko flicks on his kettle, "that's what I said, chee."

you suppress the giggle that works its way up your throat.

"are you going to say thank you?" he teases a moment later, long thick fingers preparing your drink. you ignore how he makes it in your favourite flamingo mug, and uses two perfectly sized scoops of sugar...feelings would resurface other wise.

"thank you." you quip, accepting the mug once he slides it over the counter. it easy when he's like this, you think. this is the mikko that you fell for many months ago. you don't dwell on those thoughts much longer, picking up your mug to take a sip of the tea.

he made it perfectly, even though the temperature burns your mouth a little. you hiss, and mikko gives you a knowing look. "don't start." you warn.

he chuckles, "wasn't going to."

you nod, blowing on the top of the beverage before taking another sip.

mikko turns back your direction after putting away the milk carton, crossing his impossibly large biceps over his chest. "you can have the bed. i'll take the couch or I can get out the air mattress for myself...i'll put it in the office."

you put your hand up, "no. i'm not going to be responsible for you getting a shitty sleep on the couch and then sucking on the ice as a result. you take your bed."

he smirks, "it would be your fault." he teases and you send him a look, "i'm being serious. take the bed, i'll be fine."

"don't try this with me," you warn, "i'll take the couch."

you see his face scrunch up in annoyance, "why can't you accept my kind gesture?"

"because, mikko," you breath, "I can't go in your room and sleep in your bed, it's... it's too much."

his shoulders deflate and you look away, back down into your steaming mug grasped tightly between your hands.

"I was just trying to be nice - I can be nice sometimes."

"yeah, thanks, but i'll be okay." you whisper.

it's silent for the rest of your tea, and mikko busies himself with doing the few dishes in the sink.

after, mikko grabs extra sheets and a blanket from his closet and helps you make your bed on the couch. nothing is shared between you but the occasional brushing of limbs, which obviously has you feeling nervous.

"i'll be leaving early tomorrow, we have a road trip." mikko says in the middle of fluffing a pillow.

you nod, "okay."

"but stay here until your apartment is done. i'll only be gone three days. there's no point in spending money on some shitty hotel room."

he's not even looking at you and it makes you almost sad. "are you sure?"

he grunts, "obviously."

"obviously," you mimick, in a high pitched voice. you clear your throat, finishing tucking the sheet underneath the plush couch cushions.

his lips quirk up in amusement, "I don't sound like that."

"obviously," you tease him, standing to your full height.

he joins you, all 6"4 of him towering over you. "i'll leave the key on the counter if you're sleeping."

you nod, "i'd hope so."

he gives you a look.

"goodnight," you smile sickly.

mikko raises a brow, "goodnight, y/n."

you spend the night turning and tossing. you can't believe what's happened. your apartment, staying with mikko...it was very overwhelming. you try not to think about how the last time you slept on this couch, you were sleeping beside the finnish native. his hair was longer then, his skin tan from the summer. he wanted you back then, and now...he hated you for reasons unknown.

he hadn't been that intolerable tonight, you think. he didn't nitpick you too bad, and he made you your favourite tea - helped you get your bed ready. it gave you a glimmer of hope that maybe things could get better. maybe you and mikko could get that friendship back that you missed so much.

but the morning came. you were awake when mikko exited his room, dressed in his slacks and a button down. he didn't even say anything to you, only tossing the keys beside you on the couch.

and your glimmer of hope is gone.

—

thankfully, although the damage looked like a lot of work, it only took two days for everything to get fixed in your apartment.

you were pretty much only in mikko's apartment to sleep. your last couple shifts at the hospital kept going into overtime, resulting in 10 hour days that left you exhausted. there's nothing to really clean up at his apartment, so you just grab your stuff and get relaxed back into your own space.

you're glad you didn't spend too much time at his place, because the whole apartment was filled with memories - ones that were so soft and sickly sweet they left a bad taste in your mouth.

you were off on saturday, which was the day mikko was coming home from the avs road trip. it was just after 11 p.m when mikko knocked on your door. your eyes had been fluttering closed on the couch, body on the verge of sleep when he arrived.

you look through the peephole even through you knew it would be him, your hand clutching onto his gold key.

"you got my key?" are the first words mikko says.

your lips tug down, brows scrunched together. "yes," you scoff.

he raises his brows, his palm up and outstretched in your doorway. you slap his key down in his hand with a sarcastic smile. "thanks." you grit.

"relax," he whispers, shaking his palm out after your rather harsh slap. "no need to get all irritated."

you take a step back, mimicking his high brows, "you're the one who came here with an attitude."

mikko laughs once, "I don't have an attitude, but thanks."

mikko walks away from you, granted it was about four steps before he stopped at his door, angrily shoving the key in the lock and jiggling the knob until the door opened.

he doesn't look at you, barley flinching when your door shuts with a rather loud bang for this late at night. he takes a gentle sigh, walking into his apartment. mikko had already tried to get into his apartment before he knocked on yours, figuring you'd still be living there - clearly not. he was in a shitty mood because the team lost both games on the road, ending their winning streak and all he wanted to was climb into bed - not knock on your door and argue.

he tosses his duffle bag by the legs of the bar stools, huffing as he pours himself a glass of water. he lets his eyes wander around the space, surprised that there's no mess or sign of anybody living there (like usual).

then he sees that damn flamingo mug, your lipgloss smeared on the rim. mikko then opened the cupboard above the kettle, and finds that all your chai tea bags are gone.

a gentle smile takes over his face and he gently closes the cabinet. he leaves the mug by the sink and heads to bed.

—

8 months ago

your eyes scan through the section of shelves that carry the boxes of tea bags, hands on your hips as you search for your desired pick.

you hum, dancing from flavour to flavour; green, orange pekoe, english breakfast, apple cinnamon...

"I don't see chee." mikko states. he's mimicking your stance with his hands on his hips, one foot propped out in a way that makes his thigh look extra strong.

your brows furrow, a glimmer of a smirk appearing, "chee? that's not a tea."

"you said chee." mikko muses, turning his large body towards yours.

"chai," you correct with a smile, "pronounced like lie."

mikko hums once, and then tries again "ch...ee."

you laugh and mikko throws you a playful look, "don't make fun of me." then his bottom lip juts out, looking plump and wet.

you mimick his face and his arms fall flush with his sides. you laugh again, stepping forward into his chest. "i'm not, i promise," the end of your scentence is quiet, pushing up on your toes to grab mikko's face.

he closes the distance between you, kissing your pouted lips deeply. his hands grip your hips over the blue sundress you're wearing, pulling you impossibly closer.

with a groan, you drop back down to the heels of your feet, breaking the kiss before mikko can slip his hands under your dress. "we're in public."

mikko grunts, "let's go home then."

home.

you breath a laugh, "we can once I find my.." you turn towards mikko just as he reaches for the top shelf, grasping onto a box of your beloved chai tea.

"I got the chee," mikko smirks, "let's go."

you giggle, grabbing onto the cart to push it down the isle. mikko tosses in the box and slaps your butt gently.

—

"fuck." your curse, fiddling with the nut that holds your shower pipe to the shower head.

you had finished a night shift at the hospital, wanting nothing more than to get home and shower off any traces of sweat, antiseptic or bodily fluids that may be on you, but of course, your shower head breaks off as soon as you turn it on.

you drop your arms again, running a hand through your oily hair, freshly down from your ever so tight bun. you had already contacted the front and asked for maintenance, but they couldn't do anything until tomorrow and there was no way you were going to stew in your filth until then.

"god damn it," you huff, pulling out your phone. you open your contacts and scroll until you find him. you knaw your lip, hesitantly opening the chat and typing a message.

y/n

hey, sorry to message you but my shower is broke and I need help fixing it. can you help?

you shut your eyes at how desperate your message come across. you don't wallow much longer because your phone buzzes with a response.

mikko rantanen

who is this?

your mouth drops open slightly, because, was he being serious. when another message doesn't come through you start typing.

y/n

it's y/n. you seriously deleted my number that fast?

mikko rantanen

I thought it's what you would've wanted me to do

oh. you frown ever so slightly. your phone buzzes again.

mikko rantanen

i'll come help you

y/n

the doors open. let yourself in.

you attempt to get the pipes back together once more while you wait, which turned to be very unsuccessful.

you're up on your tip toes when mikko walks into your apartment, making his way to the bathroom he's showered in many times before. he takes a moment to admire the way your scrub top has ridden up, exposing the dimples on either side of your spine.

mikko clears his throat and you jump slightly, turning towards him with your shower head clutched tight.

"having some trouble?" he teases, brows raised at your flushed cheeks and messy hair.

your squint, "listen, i've had the longest shift at work and all I want to do it shower. maintenance cant do anything until tomorrow. the last person I want help from is you, so please don't provoke me."

his big hands shoot up in surrender and he takes a step back, "I can leave if you really don't want my help."

you take a big sigh, closing your eyes momentarily. "no. although I many not want your help, I need it. can you fix my shower?"

he smiles triumphantly, "happy to help."

you send him a close mouthed smile, and you push the shower head to his chest, hitting right between his hard pecks. mikko looks down slowly and then his eyes dart back to you. "what's the magic word?"

"mikko." you deadpan.

"nope, that's not it."

"please." you grit out.

he smirks, hands overlapping yours. for a moment, your shocked at his bold movement, but then his fingers are gripping the shower part and your remember he's literally just grabbing the things you shoved at his chest.

he steps into your tiled shower, biceps flexing as she starts to work on putting the parts back together. you can see the tiny trail of hair below his navel as his arms lift, leading down beneath the band of his athletic pants.

mikko fixes it in like, 5 minutes, which was a little bit annoying. even more annoying when he sends you a knowing smirk: a little I could fix it and you couldn't smirk.

you tilt your head with a sarcastic face, "my hero."

he breaths, "I know right."

"don't push it." you say, your hand out infront of him to further your words. mikko chuckles slightly at that, watching as you move past him and test the dial, turning on the shower and watching the water as it successfully pours out the head.

"thanks," you say quietly, "now leave. I can't be in these dirty clothes any longer."

"you're welcome," he says deeply, "not going to walk me out?"

you send him a glare over your shoulder, "go away."

he tongues his cheek with a smirk before walking out. when you step into the steamy shower and finally have a moment to reflect, you realize that it was the first time since you and mikko 'broke up' you didn't truly argue. it was...refreshing.

—

7 months ago

mikko's strong arms wrap around your waist, your soft skin only covered by his dress shirt.

"wondered where you went." his voice is hoarse, words mumbled into the crook of your neck as he leans in.

you sigh contently when mikko's lips start pressing gentle kisses to your exposed shoulder and throat column.

"the sunset is really pretty today." your head falls back against mikko's chest, fingers tracing the veins along his hand. the warmth of the august sun is settling on your exposed skin, a reminder of the dwindling summer.

"you're really pretty," mikko teases, kissing your cheek as his hands slide down your body, slipping underneath the hem of his shirt to touch you. "thought you maybe left."

you spin around, arms coming up to warp around his neck. mikko's hands grab a fistful of your naked ass, tugging gently. "wouldn't do that unless you knew I was leaving."

he smirks, "good." then he leans down, capturing your lips in a hot kiss that has you moaning out.

you're thankful that your apartments balconies are enclosed, because you didn't want anybody to see the way mikko has you come undone on his balcony.

—

you have a bag of garbage in your hand and smiley face slippers on your feet when you run into gabe landeskog and his wife melissa in the hallway. it's almost 8 p.m. and the sight of them has you stopping dead.

"y/n," they smile in unison, all white teeth and blonde hair invades your space as they swoop you into tight hugs.

when you and mikko were seeing each other, you were often with him when the team all hung out. you had grown close with the landeskogs, and you and melissa often texted and had lunch dates.

"hey," you say, very aware of the star pimple patch stuck your forehead, "how are you guys?"

"good," gabe says gently, "i'm getting close to getting back out there."

you smile, "that's amazing."

the elevators ding, opening just as cale makar makes his way out, heading in your direction. your brows furrow, because why the hell are you running into two avalanche players in an apartment they don't live in.

"what's going on?" you breath a laugh, watching as cale smiles politely in your direction, moving past you and the landeskogs. then he knocks on mikko's door and everything makes more sense.

"mikko is having a party," gabe says, "it was his turn to host."

just as gabe finishes his scentence, the door next to yours swings open, revealing the finnish native dressed in a black hoodie and light jeans. you can smell his cologne and your knees almost buckle.

"you didn't know?" melissa asks.

you shake your head, switching the garbage bag to your other hand before your fingers have the chance to cramp.

"moose!," gabe calls out, pulling you under his arm, "you're having a party and didn't invite y/n? have you no soul?"

your eyes widen as gabe laughs. cale's expression mimics yours, mumbling something incoherent before moving past the winger and into the rather crowded apartment.

"oh, it's fine." you tell the couple, "mikko doesn't have to. we aren't really friends."

"and?" gabe questions.

"you're our friend," melissa smiles, tugging a strand of your hair playfully.

mikko looks at you all sheepishly and that has you swallowing thickly. "you don't need to, mikko. seriously i'm like totally not ready to mingle with people," melissa gives you an all too knowing look, "seriously i'm in my pyjamas."

"then get changed," gabe sing songs, releasing your shoulders. swiftly, he takes the garbage bag out of your hand. "i'll do this, you go get ready."

gabe leaves, somehow knowing where the hell the trash shute is. you curse the swede silently. melissa sends you a poke and a smile before leaving you in the hallway, crossing the threshold into mikko's apartment.

mikko is still standing there, staring at you with an emotionless expression.

you shrug, "seriously, I don't have to come if you don't want me to."

he sighs gently, "the doors unlocked." then he leaves, shutting the apartment door between you.

you nod to yourself, spinning right around and back into your own apartment. you do the best you can at getting presentable. not wanting to waste the skin care you had already applied by putting on makeup just to wash it off, you just rip off your pimple patch - thankfully the redness has disappeared.

you drag a brush through your hair before putting on the first pair of leggings you find and and plain fitted tshirt. you don't bother with shoes and keep your smiley slippers on. you spray your perfume and then you're leaving, turning to your right and letting yourself into mikko's apartment.

the smell of cologne hits you immediately, but you expected that in a room full of men with too much money. you smile politely at faces you recognize, making your way through the space, teammates of mikko's stopping you to greet you excitedly, hugs and small talk alike. nathan even cracks a smile when he sees you, which was crazy.

you see that mikko has set up a table for drinks near the built in fireplace. there's nothing crazy on the table with it being the middle of the season, and most of the bottles look untouched. melissa is standing there, and you march your way over.

"melissa," you hiss, "i hate you for this."

she smiles at you, "don't hate me. gabe started it."

"yeah and when I find him i'm going to kick him in the dick."

the blond snorts, pouring 7 up into her cup of tequila. "everyone is so happy to see you though, everybody misses you."

you frown, "I miss them too." and you do. although they were mikko's teammates primarily, they had become your good friends in the months you two were seeing one another. logan o'connor and his fiancé always wanted you to join their hikes, bowen byram was constantly sending you new imessage games and devon towes was always talking to you about all your mutually watched tv shows.

the team had been your only friends when you moved to denver, and now you barley saw them.

you clear the emotions from your throat, "maybe if mikko wasn't so stuck up and -"

"hey, ross!" melissa says quickly, deescalating your upcoming flur of anger. the brunette in question turns towards you both, already sporting his wide, shining smile. "ross, you remember y/n, right?"

ross colton then turns his body towards you, and you blush under the gaze of an attractive man (what's new). ross has always been handsome to you, all styled hair and strong muscles. he was pretty. pretty in a way that was almost distracting and way out of your league.

"yeah, I haven't seen you in forever."

you notice that melissa has slipped away, and you have to remember to flick her arm for that later.

"how have you been?" ross smiles.

"i'm okay," you breathe, "all things considered."

"you look great."

"really?" you wince, "i'm pretty sure this shirt has a stain on it and my skins all oily from the pounds of moisturizer i put on..."

"i'm complementing you, y/n, take it."

your cheeks heat up, "okay. thank you ross. you clean up nice." you immediately regret that, your choice of a compliment coming off very grandma like. "I mean-"

"thank you," he smiles.

"you didn't think I sounded like an elder?"

ross laughs gently, seemingly standing closer than he was when your conversation first started. "no, I'll take any compliment from a pretty girl like you."

"like me?" you splutter.

he laughs again, arm reaching out to squeeze your bicep. "is that okay?"

mikko, your brain screams. what about mikko?

"yeah," you whisper anyways. you tell your brain to zip it: because why the hell would you be thinking about mikko. I mean sure, ross wasn't as tall as mikko, or as big as mikko. you've always liked blondes, but brunette hair was good too.

"okay," ross whispers back. you flash him a smile and he releases your arm. "how about you put your number in my phone? we can hang out when our schedules line up."

you almost jump for joy. this is what you wanted, you think. ross seems stable, like he wants more than just that unfulfilling hookup culture that mikko wanted. "yeah," you say, "for sure."

you punch in your number, adding a little smiley face emoji beside your name in the contact.

"sweet," he smiles, pocketing his phone, "I gotta get back to logan but i'll text you."

"alright," you nod once, "i'll be seeing you."

"yeah," then ross leaves, disappearing back into the small crowd of people gathered in mikko's apartment. you watch as ross joins o'connor and a couple other people on the couch, taking his seat. for a moment you let yourself wonder if ross knows his teammate has been all up in your guts on that very couch.

you snap out of it, turning back to the table and making yourself a drink.

"what the hell did he want?" mikko's deep voice mumbles from above you.

you sigh, "nothing."

he moves so he's standing closer to your left, making his own drink beside you. "didn't look like nothing." mikko mutters.

you roll your eyes, turning to face him. "are you watching me?"

he looks into your eyes, "it's hard not to notice when you're eye fucking my teammate."

"I was not-" you pause, surveying the expression of the blonde's face. his brows pull together when you suddenly stop speaking, eyes burning into yours inquisitively. "why is it any of your business anyways?" you question.

"you're in my house." mikko spits. his cup is still only half made, abandoned on the sticky table top.

"you're jealous again."

he laughs, "that's funny."

"am I wrong?" you ask, arms crossing over your shirt. mikko watches the way your boobs push together in your v-neck, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

"i'm not jealous, i'm being absolutely reasonable." mikko sighs, "my ex is flirting with my teammate right infront of me. am I not allowed to question it?"

"am I really your ex if we never dated?"

mikko looks taken back by your question, licking his lower lip as you stare at one another. then he's clearing his throat, stepping closer to you.

he chooses to ignore your last question, only answering the initial accusation, "why would I be jealous of somebody like him?"

you gulp, looking up at him as mikko leans down slightly to whisper.

"maybe you should back off a little," you bite out. mikko scoffs at your threat and it has you frowning, "just because you didn't want me, doesn't mean somebody else doesn't."

mikko pulls a face of what seems like confusion, "you don't even know what you're talking about."

you roll your eyes at his rude accusation, your throat tightening with all too familiar emotions. you look away quickly, leaving mikko to watch as you turn on your heels and leave him standing alone, left with nothing but both untouched drinks on the table.

—

melissa has an expensive pair of dark sunglasses on when you sit down - so tinted you're not even sure if she notices you at first, busy looking over the menu.

"hey," she greets with a smile - clearly aware of your presence.

"hi," you huff. you're still in the burgundy v-neck from the night before, you've only switched out your black leggings for a pair of jeans - smiley slippers turned converse.

melissa texted you early the following day after the get together at mikko's apartment, buttering you up with the promise of breakfast and what she claims as 'quality time with your best friend' - she had you at breakfast.

"I didn't see you leave last night," melissa muses.

you laugh gently, "that was the point."

she eyes you over the menu, one perfectly shaped brow raised. "something happen?"

the menu that you had previously picked up was slapped down to the table. irritated, you run your hands through your straightened hair, a heavy breath leaving your lips. "mikko happened! god, mel, he's so fucking frustrating."

she sends you a small pitiful smile, "what he do this time?"

what he do this time - because melissa knows better than to assume you two have just stopped your arguments and sudden hatred and just left one another alone. she is too smart and knows you and mikko too well: both stubborn.

"well, it's started when ross asked for my number -"

"he did?!" melissa gleams.

"yeah, anyways," you dismiss, "he was all in my business because he saw ross and I talking - he was basically shaming me for talking to a friend. like are you kidding?!"

she hums, "sounds like he was jealous."

"yes!" you chant, "he totally is and i told him he was and that made it worse. he said 'why would i be jealous of someone like him?'" you mimick the finnish natives deep voice and then scoff, "god melissa, what does he even mean by that."

melissa takes a slow sip of her orange juice, brows pulled together. "sounds like he's trying to convince himself all while trying to tell you. maybe he's still got some feelings for you-"

"definitely not," you cut your friend off, "he made that clear when he blew me off at the thought of being in a relationship with me."

the blonde frowns gently.

"I don't even like fighting with him," you whine, "but he seems so admit of poking the damn bear until I have no other option but to bite back."

"gabe says that mikko never talks about what happened," melissa says gently, "anytime somebody asks him about you, he shuts down. maybe you two need to have a conversation and find out why."

you brows draw together, "why what?"

"why he never talks about what happened and why he treats you in a way that consists of arguing and jealousy." melissa says. you pull a face so she sighs, "something isn't right about it - don't you think you owe it to yourself to figure it out."

you pick up your menu again, "I don't want to get my feelings hurt again. although we fight, i'd rather not get along then not have mikko in my life at all."

melissa looks like she has something else to say, but then a young teenage employee is stopping at your table - effectively ending her train of thoughts.

"hey guys, i'll be your waiter today, what can we get started for you?"

nobody brings up mikko for the rest of the meal - you make sure of that. busy asking your friend about the kids and your shared book club.

the rest of the day is spent by yourself in your apartment, watching movies until your eyes start to hurt - a sign for a break and to start your dinner.

you're mid bite of chicken alfredo when somebody knocks at your door. the sound has you freezing, slowly placing down your fork to stand.

through the peephole you see mikko standing there, eyes looking down the hall as he waits for you to answer. you swallow your chicken, wiping your face before you open the door.

mikko looks almost surprised to see you, most likely assuming you wouldn't answer after your last conversation- you're honestly surprised that you did.

"last night," he starts, "I was mean. I hurt your feelings."

mikko pauses, watching your face for any sort of reaction - waiting for you to say something. you don't though, only crossing your arms and raising your brows as if urging him to continue.

"i'm sorry." he sighs.

"okay," you hum, "thank you for apologizing."

mikko shoves his hands in his pockets but immediately takes them back out. he's clearly debating saying something more, you can tell by the pull of his face and by the way he rubs the back of his neck.

"what?" you deadpan.

mikko looks at you shocked for a moment, brows raised and eyes wide. then his shoulders fall and he's sighing, "whatever happened between us a couple months back - can we just move past that? I'm tired of fighting with you."

you blink three times...'whatever happened between us' - like he wasn't the one who blew you off. although you want to defend yourself and your feelings, you don't.

you take a deep breath, "sure. we can move past that."

a ghost of a smile graces his plump lips. "maybe we can even be friendly?"

you squint, "we will see."

he bites his lip, "c'mon i'm trying to be nice."

"last time you tried to be nice it ended with getting your keys thrown at me."

his mouth drops open ever so slightly, "I didn't throw them at you, I lightly tossed them beside you." mikko argues.

you raise your brows at the blonde, and with the look on your face he stops himself, taking a slow breath through his nose and plastering a smile on his face.

"so what do you say?"

mimicking a sarcastic grin, you uncross your arms and jut your small hand in his direction. he looks down at your palm and tongues his cheek, a small breath of a laugh leaving his lips. mikko grabs your hand in his own, shaking it once.

"no more arguing," you hum.

mikko smiles, "no more arguing."

—

5 months ago

"hello? are you listening to me?"

mikko blinks hard, "what?"

bowen byram just lets out a hearty chuckle, swishing around the beer in his bottle against the high top table.

"I said -"

mikko's eyes dart away, moving through the crowded denver bar until he spots you again. your head is thrown back, laughing at something melissa has just told you.

you're holding a clear cup of some orange drink in one hand, your other palm pressed against the pale pink material of your summer top.

mikko has never known someone so beautiful, he thinks.

as if you can feel his stare, your head turns and you're locking eyes with one another. immediately, mikko feels his lips tug up in a smirk.

you smile back. one of your eyebrows pull up in a question for his stare.

mikko just shrugs, slow smirk becoming impossibly bigger. you shake your head in disbelief, a breathy giggle slipping between your lips. it has mikko biting his lip, not once breaking the eye contact between you.

"wow, you must really like her."

bowen's words have mikko clearing his throat, head swiveling around to meet his young teammates gaze. bowen's wearing a knowing smirk, taking a slow sip of his beer.

mikko shrugs but smiles with all his teeth. that's enough of an answer for bowen.

—

not arguing with mikko is actually not as hard as you initially thought it would be. sure, sometimes you both can't help yourselves and start poking at one another about stupid things.

but in the elevator you just smile at one another politely and ride up to your floor in peace - sometimes even small talk is exchanged between you. mikko even goes as far as taking out your garbage so you don't have to trek down to the trash shute. it's...nice - familiar. he's starting to remind you of the mikko you were in love with and that always sends your heart rate sky rocketing.

you're thinking about your and mikko's change of relationship while you're cutting your celery - which you probably should've been paying more attention to, rather than thinking about the 6"4 attractive sex god you once had the pleasure of having. your hand slips, the knife you had been using veering to the left and catching your index finger.

you hiss, dropping the blade to grab your finger. "fuck."

the blood seeping out beneath your fingers is enough indication that you had nicked your skin. suddenly you're panicking, everything you know about your profession exiting your brain. you have always been good with human fluids and injuries- that's why you got offered the job in denver in the first place: you were a great nurse. but anytime it came to your own body and self inflicted injuries - you clamped up.

with another shaky breath you leave your apartment, struggling momentarily to open the door without the proper use of your hands. you use your elbow to knock on mikko's door, praying that he's between a practice and game.

it's not a moment later that he opens the door, his eyes a bit hazy - probably just waking up from a nap.

you feel yourself get emotional, tears beginning to leak down your cheeks while you stand in front of him.

mikko's eyes widen and he reaches out to you, eyes dancing between your face and blood covered fingers. "what happened?"

you sniff, "I cut myself, and i'm too scared to see if I need stitches."

"oh, for the love of— come in and let me check." mikko guides you into his apartment with an arm around your shoulders, his free hand is over top yours, applying more pressure to your wound. you get to his bathroom, and you finally get a glimpse of yourself in his mirror.

your mascara is smudged under your eyes and your lips have swelled up like the typically did when you were crying.

"okay, let me see." mikko whispered, his hands prying your tight grip away until he can see your finger.

your eyes clench shut, and your breath quickens as you cry harder.

"i'm going to run it under the water so I can see it better, okay?"

"okay," you whisper. you let your eyes open so you can watch as he manoeuvres your finger under the tap. your breathing is a bit laboured which has mikko using his free hand to rub your back - if you weren't so emotional you'd probably be blushing.

"looks like it's not bleeding anymore."

you wince as you watch the water turn red, washing away the blood.

mikko's eyes dart to the side of your wet face, brows pulled together in the middle. "does it hurt?"

you shake your head, "I - no, I don't think so. I don't know," you cry.

he doesn't laugh or tease you about your stuttering, he just eyes you gently. he brings your hand back towards himself, using the paper towel by his sink to dry your finger. "it's not deep - doesn't need stitches. you probably cut it weird, that's why it bled like that-" he smirks gently, "but you're smart so you probably knew that."

you've stopped crying for the moment, and mikko is grateful for that. he wipes the skin with alcohol before putting a baindaid on your finger.

he's wrapping the tails around your digit when you sigh, your free hand coming up to wipe your face. "i'm sorry if i woke you up from your nap, I know how important they are."

mikko shrugs, "you're more important than a nap." you feel yourself soften at his words. he taps your freshly bandaged finger twice, a close mouth smile on his face. "that feel okay?"

"yeah," you whisper, "thank you, mikko."

"that's what friends are for, right?"

you nod, "right."

he thumbs behind him, back into the hallway that leads to his living room. "did you want to stay? you were pretty upset."

you huff, images of your crying face flashing through your mind, "don't remind me...i've never been an attractive crier."

he laughs gently, "nah, you looked," he hums for a moment, "pretty." mikko almost reaches up and brushes away your stray hairs, but he doesn't.

you wish he had. you clear your throat, eyes wandering down to your covered finger. you run your pinky over the edge of the baindaid as a distraction, "always a flirt." you tease him.

you look up just in time to watch mikko smirk softly, a tinge of pink covering the tips of his ears. "only for you."

there's a moment then, were your eyes and mikko's met in a soft gaze. thousands of emotions and unspoken words swimming between them. you breathe out, your minty breath hitting the white crinkled fabric of his shirt.

he blinks slowly and you mistake him for being tired - bored of your meltdown. you shake your head, breaking eye contact. "i'll go now," you take a few steps back, "let you get rest...i don't want to be responsible for you playing like shit."

your comment has mikko thinking about when you last slept in his apartment, vacated out of your own. although he's hurt by your sudden change of attitude, he doesn't show it. he knows you don't want the soft connections and commitment, so he just nods, "well it would be your fault."

you pause with a gentle smile, also thinking back to that night you spent on mikko's couch just a few weeks ago. you say goodbye again and walk out of his apartment, still fiddling with the brown bandaid on your finger.

mikko wishes you stayed.

you wish mikko wanted you.

—

4 months ago

you shove another one of your favourite chocolate cookies in your mouth, chewing quickly. the movie on tv isn't anything new, in fact you'd seen the hunger games well over 100 times by now. it still has you hooked though, blindly shoving another cookie in as your eyes watch the screen.

the tea mikko made you before the movie started is probably cold by now, sitting in the flamingo mug you claimed on the coffee table. when mikko said he'd never seen any of the hunger games movies you had sat him down, pushing him to the couch and bribed him with a make out and some dry humping to watch the movie. spoiler alert: it worked.

another cookie is in before you swallow the previous one, crumbs falling down your hoodie.

you're eyes snap to your right when mikko's thumb brushes your lips, gently wiping stray chocolate crumbs of your mouth.

"watch the movie," you say between swallows.

he breaths a laugh, "I am."

"no," you tease," you're watching me."

he just shrugs, clearly not feeling guilty. using the sleeve of your hoodie, you wipe over your mouth. mikko's brows come together and he pushes your hand away, using his own hands to wipe of the smudges of chocolate.

you flush, which makes him smirk. then he's pulling your face towards his. it isn't long after that you have to rewind the movie, missing the most important parts because mikko and you got distracted with each other.

—

two weeks after the whole crying in your old situationships/neighbour/friends apartment - you get a text from melissa landeskog.

you finish a gulp of wine, picking up your buzzing phone.

mel landeskog

gabe says mikko has been happier...

mel landeskog

did you take my advice and talk?

you sigh, placing down your glass.

y/n

we haven't really talked about it, no.

y/n

but you'll be happy to know we called a truce

y/n

and it's kind of working? we haven't had a real fight in a couple weeks

you catch yourself smiling at your phone at the mere thought of mikko. you stop yourself with a shake of your head just as a reply comes through the phone.

mel landeskog

yay! this is progress

mel landeskog

does that mean you can come to the game tomorrow night to keep me company? i haven't hung out with anybody but the kids in forever.

y/n

only if you buy me a beer

that's how you ended up at the ball arena, a place that just a few months ago you never thought you'd step foot into again. you have luke landeskog between your body and the plexiglass of the rink, your hands tight on his little hips.

gabe still isn't playing, not yet out of the lengthy healing process of his last injury. melissa still liked to bring the kids to games though. linnea loved seeing all her uncles and friends at the arena, and luke was starting to get to the age where he recognized what was happening in front of him.

"look, linnea!" melissa exclaims, bent down to her daughters level, "is that nate?" the blond is pointing through the glass and in the direction of the star player.

linnea giggles, shouting a yes and bangs on the boards. nathan's too far to hear her, but the little girl is excited anyways.

luke dances in your grip, hands pressed to the glass with a gummy smile. you laugh at his excitement, pointing out players as they warm up around you.

you're looking at melissa when a body comes at you, nathan's skates snowing the boards as he makes a hard stop. the kids giggle and wave excitedly as he waves back at them, his own smile cracking on his lips.

"does mikko know you're here?" melissa asks.

you send her a bewildered look, eyes wide. you pray nathan can't hear her question. "mel, people can hear you, ya know?"

your friend giggles, shrugging her shoulders. "well? does he?"

"no," you say, "why would I tell him?"

"you do know he plays for this team right?"

you whip your head around to look at her, but she's sporting a teasing grin, clearly trying to egg you on.

"ha ha," you muse, looking back through the plexiglass to watch the avs warm up.

"do you like mikko?!" linnea shouts up at you.

melissa shushes her immediately, reminding her to use an inside voice. you take a deep breath and try to remember that children are just curious.

"of course I do," you smile, "we are friends."

"oh, are you?" melissa muses.

you send her a look before glancing back down to the strawberry blond girl. "do you like mikko?"

"yes!" she cheers, banging on the glass when you see another player approach in your peripheral vision. "hi mikko!" linnea cheers.

your head snaps up, locking eyes with the man of the hour. you're at an advantage with the ice being a foot lower than the stands and you're almost eye level with mikko. he's still a bit taller though, and that's just hot in itself.

you wish you didn't flush at the sight of him, knowing that melissa would tease you about it later.

his brows raise slightly, surely wondering why the hell you're at the game. then he smiles all slow and syrupy at you....and you might just die.

you tickle one side of luke, using your other hand to take one of his chubby fits and wave it in mikko's direction. the fin smiles at the baby, tapping his stick against the glass at him. luke laughs, pushing against the surface.

then mikko takes his stick and hits the glass by your face, pulling your attention away from the kid. he gives you one more smile before turning away, although he stays in the same spot, just practicing his stick handling with his back turned to you.

you make the mistake of looking at melissa and she's already beaming at you, a raise to her brows. "friends indeed," she hums.

"stop." you warn, cheeks surely permanently flushed red for the foreseeable future.

after the third period ends with an avalanche victory, it's only minutes after the team leaves the ice your phone is buzzing in your lap.

mikko rantanen

i didn't know you were coming

mikko rantanen

want me to drive us home?

you smile at the way he worded the question, even though there was nothing special behind his words.

"I know who y/n is texting," melissa sings in a baby voice to luke, hugging him in her lap.

you ignore her.

y/n

melissa drove me

mikko rantanen

that's not what i asked. do you want me to drive us home?

his assertive texts give you a momentary flashback to other times mikko had been assertive with you. there's nothing to overthink, you remember. mikko is simply just offering to take you back to your shared apartment building - a place he's already going. he's saving melissa a trip, if anything.

y/n

okay, yeah.

you pocket your phone and turn towards your friend. "mikko is going to take me home."

melissa smirks, "I thought so."

you roll your eyes playfully but stand up from your seat, bidding goodbye to the landeksogs and making your way through the arena and down into the avs locker room hallway, flashing your badge at the security guards.

when mikko spots you, he smiles. in that moment it was easy to get caught up in the familiarity of your old selves - walking back to mikko's car and talking about the game. your heart cracks at the memories, because no matter what he's still the guy who doesn't want to love you the way you craved him too.

—

3 months ago

you're breathless, chest heaving up and down as you lay flat on your back. a smirk is playing on your lips, heart racing as you take a moment to collect yourself.

mikko rolls over and up on to his elbow, leaning over your body. he's smiling softly down at you.

"i like the freckles on your nose," he whispers, "and the ones on your cheeks. and i like your eyes and your lips."

you grin, a hand reaching up to run through his blonde curls - the action much softer than minutes ago when your were gripping his hair at the roots as he brought you over the edge.

"or I just like you." mikko muses, his free hands moving up until he can hold your face, his thumb stroking gently over your cheek bone.

"always the charmer," you whisper back. "I like you too."

your words send prickles down mikko's spine, the redness of his skin deepening down his chest and up past his neck.

his hand leaves your cheek and scoops behind your back, bringing your body flush to his own. your naked boobs push against his strong chest, his large leg slotting between yours.

sex with mikko was always phenomal, but the tenderness he showed you after was always the best part.

_

your pleather jacket makes a crinkly noise as you uncross your arms. you pull out your phone from the oversized pocket to check for an unread text from ross colton. you knaw on your lip again, and you're sure all your lipstick is gone now form the constant nibbling. there's no texts, no missed calls, no unheard voicemails.

you're being stood up - on fucking valentine's day. you shift on your feet in the hotel lobby, leaning forward to see if maybe ross has pulled up to the curb - waiting for you in a car with a bouquet of roses. but nobody is there.

you're embarrassed, standing alone in your tights and skirt. you even put on your favourite red top to match the holiday aesthetic. you did your makeup nice and styled your hair for what?

you sigh, pocketing your phone again. you can already feel the looks of pity from maintenance man harvey and jaclyn: the middle aged woman who runs the front desk.

you're going to go upstairs and cry - that's the only thing to do. you spin on your heels, avoiding eye contact as you sulk back towards the row of elevators. your hand shakes as you reach out and push the button.

the doors open not 10 seconds later. your eyes meet mikko's just as he pulls out his phone.

"hi," he whispers, blinking three times fast. he looks handsome. he's wearing dark jeans and white dress shirt. the first two buttons are undone, exposing his chain. he's got a gray peacoat on as well, pulling the look together.

"hey," you force a smile, "sorry, i'm going up."

his eyes dance over your face, no doubt taking notice of your teary eyes and flushed cheeks. "are you okay, y/n?"

"i'm great," you cheer quitely. you side step him, walking into the open elevator. his body spins to follow your movement, worried eyes still on yours. "just going to head to sleep. long day."

"are you sure-"

"yes, i'm fine." you chirp, the elevator doors sliding closed and separating the two of you.

mikko takes a deep breath, staring at the silver doors as they carry you up to your shared floor. you we're definitely not okay.

"she was stood up."

mikko turns, eyeing harvey and jaclyn as they sit behind the lavish reception desk. harvey is taking a slow sip of what smells like coffee, brows raised as he looks at him.

jaclyn was the one who spoke, her lips turned in so she can kiss her teeth.

mikko frowns, taking four big steps forward until he reaches the table, leaning on it as he eyes the employees. "she was?"

"huh uh," harvey hums, "she came down here twenty minutes ago all dolled up and she just stood by the door until, well, you saw her go upstairs."

"she didn't have to say anything," jaclyn says, "you don't get all dressed up for valentine's day for no reason. whoever she was supposed to see tonight - they didn't show up."

mikko curses silently, running a hand over the top of his head. his hair is longer now, pieces of blonde hair curling between his fingers. "I feel terrible."

"you didn't do anything wrong," harvey says, "but you could be the one to make it right."

mikko's brows furrow together, "what do you mean?"

"you're friends right?" mikko nods.

"then go check on her." jaclyn interrupts. "unless you're heading somewhere."

"no, I'm not." mikko does have somewhere to be. him and a couple of the single guys on the team were going to hit up a local bar and get a couple drinks. he was already opening the text thread to tell them he wouldn't be there.

"here," jaclyn hums, plucking a pink rose from the vase that sat on top of the reception desk. "take this and go make her happy."

mikko thanks them, getting back to the elevator and pushing the button rather frantically until the doors open.

25 minutes have passed since you'd made it back up to your apartment. you cried while scrubbing the makeup off your face, but thankfully your tears have stopped. you swapped your skirt and jacket for your favourite pink sweat set. you're moping around your kitchen, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose. you huff, moving to push them back up but a series of knocks on your door stops you.

you don't bother checking who it is, pulling open the white door slowly with a blank expression.

mikko looks up when the door creaks and he watches your face contort into one of cunfusion.

"what are you doing here?" you whisper.

"I live here," he teases. "this is for you," he hands you the delicate rose, and you frown while holding it to your chest.

"what is happening right now?"

"i'm not going to let you be alone on valentine's day, y/n."

"how do you know-"

"come with me." mikko grabs a hold of your free hand and brings you next door. you've noticed now he's not wearing his coat anymore, and another button of his shirt has come undone.

you walk into his apartment and are greeted with the tv on, its light casting a cool glow in the living room. it smells like candy, thanks to the candle on his kitchen counter. there's a few lamps on around the apartment and your favourite chocolate cookies are on a plate centered on the coffee table.

"what's all this?" you ask, words gentle as you gawk at the space infront of you.

he shoves his hands in his pockets, "I thought because you didn't get to go out for valentine's day, I would get you over here to relax and watch a movie."

"mikko-" you stop yourself, rose still clutched in your palm. "you didn't need to do all this."

"I wanted to." he insists. then he walks into the kitchen, flicking on the kettle.

you watch him wordlessly, your mouth hung open. he opens his cabinet and takes out a chai tea bag, plopping it into that mug you love so much.

confused, your brows furrow. "where did you get those?"

mikko glances at you over his shoulder, "what? the chee tea bags? i've always had them."

you don't mention his mispronounced word, walking forward until you are standing beside him. "no. when I stayed here a little bit ago, I finished them off."

he nods slowly, "okay. I bought more." he pours the steaming water into the cup, the liquid turning brown as the tea bag gets soaked.

"you don't like chai tea." you whisper.

he shrugs, scooping two piles of sugar into the mug. "no, but you do."

oh.

you look up at him with a million emotions, placing the rose down on the counter. mikko clears his throat, passing you the cup. "let's watch a movie."

you two end up on the couch moments later, both with your own throw blankets as the movie starts. mikko had chosen 'love, rosie' which was one of your favourite movies for valentine's day. you had told mikko this during one of your very first pillow talks and you're surprised he remembered.

"did you not have plans tonight?"

mikko looks over at the sound of your voice. you're not looking at him, eyes still on the screen while you hold you drink.

he shrugs, "nothing important."

"really?" you meet his eyes, "you were dressed up."

"just a thing with a couple of the guys," mikko says, "wasn't anything I wanted to go to anyways." he adds when he sees your worried face.

a beat passes.

"this movie reminds me of you."

your brows raise, "because I told you i liked it?"

mikko ponders momentarily, lips pursed. then he shakes his head, "you remind me of rosie. you and her love the same way."

you're speechless in that moment, eyes wide as you look at him. mikko's head falls back against the couch cushions, what looks like a smile beginning to tug at his lips.

"anytime I miss you, I watch this movie."

then you begin to smile, following suit and leaning back into the plush cushions. "that's a really nice thing to say to me."

"Thought that after all the terrible things we've said, I better say something worth while."

by the time to movie finishes you're both laughing with one another, the movie filling a void of happiness in both of your chests. only you had cried during the wedding scene - but you always had.

the credits begin to roll when you feel mikko's eyes on the side of your face. you don't hesitate to look over at him. "what's up?"

he bites his lip, "are you going to tell me who stood you up?"

your face falls, "how did you know I got stood up?"

"harvey and jaclyn are very perspective," he hums. you just nod once, taking a slow bite of your cookie. mikko continues, "plus you looked upset when I first saw you."

another nod.

"so," mikko hums, "who stood you up?"

"I don't want to tell you."

he chuckles gently, "why not?"

you don't crack a smile and that has mikko sitting up straighter, brows furrowed as he reaches out towards you. "why not?" your nervous expression had his stomach plummeting ever so slightly. "do I know him?"

you sigh, "yeah, but - "

"tell me."

"mikko, I don't want to start anything-"

"tell me who."

"seriously, you can't do any-"

"y/n." mikko warns.

you exhale deeply, hands falling down to your lap so you can fiddle. you don't look at him when you say, "it was ross."

the next morning at practice, mikko cross checks ross colton into the boards, definitely harder than necessary for a practice drill.

when ross turns around his face is red, "what's your problem dude?!"

mikko leans down slightly, "apologize for standing y/n up or a cross check will be the least of your worries."

ross scoffs, pushing off of mikko's chest, mumbling a 'yeah, whatever' on his way past.

mikko was fuming. if ross wasn't his teammate he would've smashed his face into the ice as soon as he stepped out. to ask his ex out in his apartment to then stand her up on valentine's day...mikko couldn't think about that or he would chase ross down.

—

it's after 10 when mikko gets home from his game, exhausted from the hard battle with the bruins. he is still wearing his suit, minus the tie, while he fills a cup with orange juice.

the avs lost, which was always frustrating. that combined with the ross thing was putting the blonde in a very sour mood. he chugs his drink in three gulps.

there's a soft knock on his door as he rinses the dish. he makes his way over, brows furrowed with annoyance at being bothered so late. he pulls open the door.

you stand in the hall, "did you say something to ross?"

mikko sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "listen..."

"I told you not to say anything." you show him your phone, the screen displaying the very brief chat between you and ross.

mikko frowns, taking your cell.

ross colton

i know standing you up was shitty

but tell your guard dog to back

the hell off

y/n

what?

ross colton

mikko. he fucking checked me

and told me to apologize or whatever

y/n

I didn't want...

mikko doesn't read the rest, scoffing as he gives you your phone back. "he's a dick," he muses, "I told him to say sorry to you, not treat you like a child."

you shove your phone in your jeans back pocket, "mikko, I didn't want you to say anything. the last thing I wanted was to put you in an awkward spot. this is why I didn't want to tell you-"

he leans against his door frame, arms crossed. "even if you didn't tell me who it was, i would've found out."

"mikko," you sigh, frustrated.

"if you think I wasn't going to say anything after he stood you up...you don't know me very well. nobody should treat you that way, y/n. you deserve more than that. better than that.."

your shoulders deflate, "stop saying things that..." you stop yourself, bottom lip coming between your teeth.

mikko gulps, pushing off the doorway. "stop what?"

your eyes bore into his, hesitant but desperate all at the same time. "stop saying things that make me want to kiss you."

mikko feels himself get warm, stomach swooping with nerves he hasn't felt since he met you. he takes ahold of your hand, pulling you into his apartment by the tips of your fingers. you go willingly, stumbling forward until you can push the door shut. mikko holds your gaze the entire time, pushing your body against the now closed door.

you tilt your head up so you can look at him properly. he's still gripping your hands, thumb running along your knuckles in a way that's so gentle and familiar it had your knees feeling weak.

a hoarse whisper, "kiss me." mikko squeezes your hands three times quickly and licks his lips, "please."

you don't need to be told again, pushing up on the balls of your feet until you're close to his face. mikko leans down just enough so you can press your lips against his.

his brows pull together, enchanted by the soft press of your mouth on his. you pull back after 5 seconds. mikko's eyes flutter open just as yours do, chests tight as you stare at one another.

just as you go to drop down again, mikko's hands are on you, one arm gripping your back to pull you up against his abdomen and chest, holding you to him. his other hands finds your face, just as both your hands grab his shoulder and neck and then you're devouring each other.

the kiss is passionate, full of heat and longing for what once was. months upon months of not having one another all boiling down into this heated exchange.

his hand is hot on your face, an all so familiar feeling that has you reeling with anticipation. the thought has you smiling into the kiss, mikko following suit. you're placed back to the ground and mikko is bringing you over to his couch, not once stopping the clash of teeth and lips you're both locked in.

he spins you around so that the back of your legs hit the couch cushions. the feeling has you dropping down, breaking the kiss as you fall into the plush cushions. mikko towers over you with a gentle smile. "you're so beautiful." then he's dropping to his knees infront of you, grabbing your legs to pull you to the edge of the couch.

you squeal, legs falling open to cage him in. using your hands, you push off his black suit jacket, the expensive item falling to the floor beside him. you smirk when his biceps flex underneath the tight material of his dress shirt. "I need you so bad, mikko."

he groans quietly. his hands dart up and pop open the button of your jeans, quickly tugging down the zipper. you help him when he moves to tug the denim down, lifting your butt off the couch so he can pull them away, soon joining his suit jacket.

mikko pushes your legs further apart, placing wet kisses against your thighs. he starts at your knee cap, slowly making his way down to your core.

he has one hand wrapped around the thigh he's kissing, and his other hand reaches forward, tugging your underwear to the side until you're exposed.

the air against your core has you whining, bucking your hips up. mikko smirks at the sight, "where do you need me, kulta?”

you moan at his native tongue, head rolling back. mikko wrapping your other leg in his arm has you looking back down at him, lip between your teeth. he's looking at you with raised brows, so close to where you want him.

"I need you on my pussy, mikko, please."

mikko has always been a good man, you think. because after your first beg he dives in, licking a heavy strip up your folds until his tongue reaches your clit, gently rubbing the sentive nub.

you moan loudly, your hand reaching out to grab ahold of his curls. you're thankful that he's started to grow out his start of the season buzz cut, because in this moment you'd never been happier to tug and pull his blonde locks.

he sucks oh so perfectly on your clit, and you think you could cum already. he pulls off with a pop, his long thick fingers immediately taking over and plunging into your hole, slowly pumping in and out.

your mouth falls open as he looks into your eyes, "you taste so good - better than I remember."

he continues pumping his digits into your warmth. using his other hand he pushes up to your face, capturing your lips in a messy kiss. the taste of yourself combined with his fingers and sloppy kiss have you cumming.

you groan loudly into his mouth, legs shaking as he works your through your orgasim. "fuck," you heave, head falling back. "you're so good at that"

"yeah?" mikko teases with a smirk.

your fingers start fiddling with his buttons, "yeah." you confirm. "you're wearing too many clothes."

you drag his dress shirt down his arms, gasping as more and more skin is revealed. he looks better shirtless than you remembered.

"so are you," mikko mumbles, clearly not bothered by the way you're ogling his arms and abdomen. he rips off your oversized t-shirt, leaving you completely bare. "no bra?" he smirks.

"no," you giggle, "i was getting ready for bed...oh."  mikko attaches to one of your nipples, sucking on the bud until it becomes painfully hard.

he switches to your other boob, his hand wasting to time groping the unattended nipple.

"mikko, I wanna...please I need you inside me."

he release your boob and nods at you, eyes glazed over. "fuck...yeah, lemme..." mikko stands up, grabbing your hands so you're also at full height. his hands start fiddling with his dress pants, eyes burning into your bright ones as he does. you smile slowly, your own fingers joining in helping him take off his pants.

he finally gets them off, pushing them down his legs until they fall around his ankles. you blink slowly, watching the way his boxers strain to contain his hard dick. you reach forward, palming him through his boxers until he moans, eyes downcast to watch you stroke him over his underwear.

"take these off." you whisper, locking eyes with him through your lashes.

he swears, waisting no time in pushing down the last article of clothing that stands between you.

you smile gently, hands running up his strong chest until you reach his neck. mikko reaches down, connecting your lips in another desperate kiss. he missed you so much, he could kiss you for the rest of the night and be satisfied with only your lips.

your hands drag back down his collarbones, down his pecks until they rest over his nipples. he shivers at your touch until you're giggling, pulling away from the kiss.

mikko's hand slips between your bodies, making its way between your legs until he finds your core, still dripping with your release.

as he's gathering your slick you groan, gripping his bicep to keep yourself upright. "where do you want me?"

mikko just might melt. he slicks up his cock, pumping it slowly. "fuck, kulta, on your back. I need to see you."

your stomach swoops. you get back to the couch, dropping onto your back infront of him. automatically your legs fall open, making room for the 6"4 winger.

mikko wastes no time climbing on top of you, slotting between your thighs just like he used to. "you ready?" he asks you, still fisting himself, the tip of his dick pressing against you.

you nod, hands holding onto his broad shoulders. "yes, fuck, please."

with that, mikko lines up with your entrance and wastes no time pushing into you. in sync you both moan, eyes fluttering closed at the familiar sensation.

he begins thrusting, the hand that was previously pumping himself grabbing ahold of your thigh, hauling it over his hip until you can wrap your calf around his lower back.

"you feel so right...so good." mikko huffs, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. he trails his lips down your face until they get to your neck, sucking on your sweet spot.

'you feel so right'

you could cry at that, because it did. you missed him so much that you couldn't believe what was currently happening. mikko's thrusts become harder, sending you up the couch in a way that so hot - you're moaning loudly.

"mikko..." I love you.

"I know, fuck." he grunts, his eyes flickering down to where your bodies connect.

but he doesn't know, you think. you feel a tear slip out of your eye and you turn your head, trying to ignore your brain and let your body go back into its euphoric state.

it's not hard when mikko is quite literally splitting you in half, thrusting in a way that's so deep it has you tightening around him. "I think i'm close." you rasp, meeting his blue eyes once again.

he was already watching you, mouth hung open as he breaths heavily. "you gunna cum on my cock?"

you nod, "yeah."

"cum on me," he moans. your eyes squeeze shut, your walls clamping down on his dick as you hit your peak, releasing all over him.

you moan once again, body falling flat against the couch cushions. mikko's thrusts increase speed, spluttering slightly as he chases his own release.

"i'm gunna cum here, m'kay?" he presses his free hands against the bulge in your lower stomach. it has you nodding, moaning quietly.

it's only three sharp thrusts later until he pulls out of your entrance, rubbing his dick over your stomach as his cum shoots hot and sticky over you. he grunts loudly, pumping his dick a few times until all of his seed is on you.

"fuck." he moans.

"yeah," you rasp.

mikko's eyes flicker up to meet yours and he smiles softly. he crawls back up your body, and just when you think he's going to kiss you again, he leans over the side of the couch to grab his suit jacket. he uses the material to wipe up a majority of his cum.

"isn't that expensive?" you muse.

he shrugs, balling up the fabric and tossing it near the bar stools. "i'll get it dry cleaned."

you smile very briefly, "not worried about them seeing your cum all over it?"

he cracks a smile, "maybe i'll just throw it out."

his eyes flicker down to your plump lips and you feel yourself flush. he leans in, eyes fluttering a few times. then he's pulling away, clearing his throat. "do you work tomorrow? you should probably get some sleep, no?"

you swallow thickly, sitting up. "yeah, it's probably late." you didn't work tomorrow, but facing the embarrassment of being kicked out after a hook up was not something you needed right now.

mikko knaws his lip, "okay, yeah...yeah, i've got practice tomorrow."

"okay," you hum, busying yourself by throwing your clothes back on. you curse yourself for having jeans on, having to jump slightly to pull them over your uncomfortably wet underwear. "i'll see you around, right?"

"of course," mikko hums, "neighbours and all."

you let yourself out, mikko watching your back with a frown.

when you get into your own apartment, nothing can stop the sobs that rips from your chest.

__

you hadn't seen mikko all day. you heard him leave for practice around 7, and he returned a couple hours after that.

you had moped around your apartment all day, nothing but guilt of the day prior and regret for not confessing weighing heavy on your chest.

you had called melissa earlier in the day, already crying before she picked up. you had vented about your feelings, and what happened the night before and how you couldn't just be another hook up for mikko. instead of an 'I told you so' from your friend, she was so supportive. this time in a much lighter sense, she suggested you talk to him and just lay your heart out there - talk about everything.

"if he's not the one, then you telling him won't change anything. but if there's something there...it will be worth it."

—

three days has passed and you still hadn't seen mikko - not in the elevator, not in the hallway or lobby. he hasn't reached out and it sort of had you feeling angry. you're not in high school - you were grown adults. and sure, even if he didn't want you the way you wanted him, he should have the decency to tell you. not repeat the whole hating game that you had already gone through.

the avalanche didn't have a game today, you had checked. you hadn't even heard mikko leave for any sort of practice or team thing - he must've had an off day.

you were ready to talk. you wanted to know why all those months ago he blew you off and started hating you. you wanted to know what went wrong. you needed to know if you were just a booty call.

so you matched over there, placing three heavy knocks on the white apartment door that belonged to mikko rantanen.

a beat later the door is pulled open. he's wearing a long sleeve team branded shirt and sweatpants. at the sight of you his face changes, brows pulling together in what seems to be confusion.

"6 months ago...why did you stop talking to me?"

he pales, "what?"

you sigh heavily, "why when after somebody said we'd make a cute couple...why did you turn on me. why did you start hating me?"

he stands up straighter, shoulders back. "what? I didn't turn on you...I was respecting you if anything."

"respecting me?" you bite out, "mikko you did anything but respect me."

"that's not true," he says, "I wanted it to work out but you changed...in the elevator that night-"

you breath a laugh, "that's not true! I didn't change - I loved you the entire time!"

his face falls and he takes a step back, "what?"

"god mikko," you laugh, "I was just respecting the stupid arrangement. the whole friends with benefits thing we had. but I loved you...god, I loved you so much. and then when we fought in the elevator...you blew me off just at the thought of being with me - being in a relationship....you broke me. and then you started picking fights and being an asshole so I fought back! because I wasn't going to let you continue to stomp on my heart without doing anything about it."

he runs a hand over his face, "are you being serious?"

you hands fall to your sides and you feel your eyes welling up with tears. "the sex was a mistake mikko. if all you want is sex...I can't do that with you. I thought maybe you felt something for me - a couple nights ago I..." you take a shaky breath, "mikko, I love you."

he takes a step towards you, a frown tugging on lips. "that night in the elevator...I thought that you didn't want me anymore. I only started being angry with you when I thought you hated me. i've never hated you, y/n, never. I thought you only wanted sex."

"what?" you whisper. at some point during your confession you had stepped into his apartment. the door remained open behind you so mikko reached forward, pushing the door closed gently. you watch him the entire time.

"I only argued with you because it was the only way I got to talk to you after we ended our relationship. I only got mad at you because I couldn't have you anymore. I only got jealous because I didn't think any guy was worthy of you or your time - and there not! you're so amazing."

"mikko-"

"a couple days ago, when he had sex again...it felt so right. the entire time I was so happy just to be with you again I couldn't bare the thought of being just a hook-up so I pretend it was more."

you sniffle, tears falling down your cheeks. "we were really bad at communicating huh?"

he takes another step towards you, "I've kept a box of chee tea in my cabinet since i met you and i've kept your chocolate cookies in there as well. I watch love, rosie every night and I cry at the wedding scene. there's a picture of us still up in my room. I've never not wanted you in every way humanly possible."

mikko grabs a hold of your face, tilting your head back until your eyes meet. "do you remember when we went to the grocery store together that one time? and we got the tea?"

you nod.

"that was the moment I fell in love with you."

you stomach swoops and your mouth goes dry.

mikko's lips curl gently, "and do you remember when you had to stay here with me after your ceiling fell?"

another nod.

"that's when I realized i'd never stop loving you...and I haven't. i'm in love with you. and i'm so sorry for not telling you before, i'm sorry for pulling away from you all those months ago. i'm sorry."

"im sorry too," you whisper, "I should've just talked to you." you laugh gently, "melissa told me I should've."

he laughs too, "gabe told me the same thing."

"maybe we should've listened to them."

mikko smirks all slow and hot and you blush. "yeah, we should've." mikko's thumb rubs your lower lip, tracing the outline gently. "I want you to be with me. all the damn time."

"I want that too," you smile, gripping mikko's wrists by your face. "now, please kiss me."

mikko smiles, leaning down and pressing a long kiss to your lips. he never planned on stopping.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[narcoticv3nus]

Blue is the Warmest Color ♥︎ Keegan P. Russ

Kinktober Day XIV: Panties & Lingerie

summary: it’s your baby’s birthday, why not get surprise him with something special? tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, oral sex (f!receiving), praise, p in v, fluff, fingering, cunnilingus wc: 2k a/n: i need to post more keegan content

MASTERLIST

Your eyes traveled down the expanse of your body, slow hands working their way down your chest, skimming over your waist before resting on your hips. You stared at yourself in the mirror before turning the opposite way, your head turning to the side, your hand planted in your ass as you looked yourself up and down.

The fabric was incredibly soft, almost like a gentle caress against your skin. The delicate lace adorned your body with a graceful elegance without causing any discomfort or itching. The fabric was a pretty shade of blue, Keegan’s favorite color. It beautifully complemented the natural tones of your hair and skin.

Right on time, just as you were lost in your thoughts, your phone began to ring. Glancing at the screen, you saw Keegan's name and picture flashing, filling you with excitement. With a wide grin, you eagerly brought the phone to your ear, savoring the anticipation as you answered, "Hello?”

“Hey, babe,” he answered. The distinctive rumble of the car engine in the background of the phone call made it clear that he was behind the wheel, driving while he spoke.

“Just wanted to let you know I was on my way home,” he said, his voice low and warm with a distinct sharp edge.

A smile spread across your face, your heart rate spiking at the sound of Keegan's voice. Your pulse raced, but your mind remained clear. This was your chance to put your plan into action.

"Hey, handsome," you replied, infusing your voice with a playful yet seductive undertone. "Just finished wrapping your present... it's a surprise, though." You could already imagine his curious expression, eyes narrowing slightly as his interest was piqued.

Your fingers traced the lacy pattern along the waistband of your lingerie, savoring the moment. "Can't wait for you to unwrap it tonight." You heard his sharp intake of breath followed by a pause.

"Sounds promising," Keegan chuckled. You could hear the smile in his voice. The engine's rumble grew quieter as he seemed to shift gears, possibly accelerating a little faster than usual now. His curiosity had been stoked, and you knew it wouldn't be long before you saw that familiar gleam in his pale blue eyes.

"Well, I better hurry up then. Don't want to keep my beautiful woman waiting," he added, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

After saying your goodbyes, you clicked the red ‘end call’ button before tossing your phone on your bed.

You nibbled on your lower lip, feeling a wave of shyness wash over you. You had never done this sort of display before. You were worried you might come off as awkward and unconfident. It doesn’t matter now, you thought as the distinctive sound of the car door thudding shut, resonating with a satisfying finality, followed by the sharp click of the locks engaging.

The front door swung open with a soft creak, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet hallway. You leaned against the cool wall, your heart racing in anticipation as you saw Keegan stepping inside. He kicked off his shoes with a casual flick, the thud hitting the floor breaking the stillness.

As he straightened up, his expression transformed. A radiant smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with delight as he spotted you. A warmth in his gaze made you feel like you were the only person in the world. The dim light cast gentle shadows around him, enhancing the moment as he stepped closer. The light exuded a sense of comfort and familiarity that enveloped you both.

“Hey there,” he greeted tentatively, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you hiding from me?” he chuckled, making his way over to you.

“No, I just…” you trailed off, your eyes downcasted, unable to meet his gaze. Keegan opened his mouth to speak before his words died on his tongue as he rounded the corner. He let out a low whistle, the sound causing heat to rise to your cheeks.

His eyes followed the delicate patterns, tracing over your skin as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Well, I wasn't expecting this," He said, his voice a mix of surprise and admiration. He took a step closer, reaching out to gently tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing softly against your skin.

"You look stunning," he murmured, his voice low and sincere. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.

Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back, meeting your gaze with a steady, reassuring look. "You don't need to be nervous," he said, his tone gentle but firm. "This is perfect. You are perfect."

You smiled wide, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, pulling him towards you as his hands wandered down your body, cupping the plush skin of your ass as your lips pressed together, his tongue seeking yours as his large hands squeezed.

You let out a gasp before it morphed into a moan as he kissed you with a newfound hunger, thrusting his erection against your stomach before he broke away from the kiss to catch his breath, a spark of playful mischief lighting up his eyes. With a firm yet tender grasp, Keegan lifted you off your feet, eliciting another gasp from your lips. He carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

As he laid you on the bed, Keegan carefully removed his jacket and shirt, tossing them aside and onto the floor, his eyes never leaving your form. He let his hands glide over the silken fabric of your lingerie, admiring the way it contrasted with your soft skin. He leaned forward, pressing feather-light kisses along your collarbone as he undid the front clasp.

His breath hitched slightly as he took in the sight of your breasts, his hands cupping them gently. He loved how you looked underneath him—vulnerable yet confident.

He moved his lips lower, capturing a nipple in his mouth, eliciting another moan from you. He sucked gently, feeling your body arch beneath him, before releasing it to lavish attention on the other side. His fingers trailed down your abdomen, teasing the edge of your lacy panties, and he could feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

He looked up at you, meeting your gaze, seeking permission to continue exploring. His thumbs hooked onto the fabric, pulling it to the side, revealing your pussy to his hungry eyes. Keegan took a moment to appreciate your beauty, his heart swelling with love and desire, before kissing your inner thigh.

Keegan's breathing grew heavier as he reveled in your reactions. He loved how you melted under his touch, surrendering to the moment. His thumbs brushed against your sensitive skin, eliciting another shiver from you. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering above your core, before he pressed a soft kiss to your center, his tongue following the path his fingers had traced earlier.

He took his time, savoring each gasp and moan, letting your reactions guide his movements. His hands slid under your thighs, lifting them slightly to give himself better access. He could feel your muscles tensing, your body readying itself for release. Pausing briefly, he looked up at you, studying your flushed features, the way your chest rose and fell rapidly with each shallow breath.

Keegan watched your reactions intensely, his eyes never leaving yours. He loved how you writhed under his touch, your body's unspoken language telling him precisely what you needed. He could feel the tension building within you, and it only served to heighten his arousal. As his tongue swirled and dipped with increased pressure, your moans grew louder, your hands gripping the sheets tightly.

He loved the taste of you, the sound of your pleasure—it all fed into his desire. Keegan's mind was wholly absorbed in the moment, his mind silencing as he gave in to pure instinct. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and valley as he continued his ministrations. He felt your thighs tighten around his head, your back arching off the bed—you were close. With one final flick of his tongue, you cried out, holding Keegan still by his hair as you ground into his mouth.

Keegan stayed where he was, savoring the moment as your body trembled and spasmed. Once your breathing had calmed, he crawled up your body, kissing every inch until he reached your lips. He smiled against your mouth, his heart swelling with affection.

Keegan hovered over you, his breath warm against your lips as he watched the pleasure recede from your eyes. As you smiled back at him, your eyes heavy with satisfaction, he couldn't help but lean in for another kiss.

His hands roamed your body tenderly, enjoying the feel of her soft skin against his roughened palms. His fingers trailed down your body before tapping against your mound, tracing lazy circles around your still-sensitive clit, eliciting another moan from your lips.

Keegan took a moment to enjoy the sight of you spread out before him—flushed and panting—before lowering his head again. He continued his attentions, teasing and tormenting you until you were writhing underneath him again. He loved how you reacted to him; your body was expressive and honest. Everything was clear—your needs, desires, and love for him.

Once you came again, he finally allowed himself to indulge in his needs. He quickly shed his clothes before settling between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance.

With a wolfish smile, Keegan watched as your eyes widened in anticipation. The scent of your arousal filled the air, further fueling his desire. He gripped the base of his hard length, guiding himself towards your entrance as his gaze never left yours.

Your eyes locked, and he slowly pushed inside you, savoring the tight heat that enveloped him. Keegan groaned low in his throat, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure through his body. Once fully seated, he paused momentarily, allowing you to adjust before moving with deliberate strokes. His thrusts were deep and measured, each one eliciting a moan from you that reverberated through his chest.

As he set a steady rhythm, Keegan's mind began to analyze your responses, instinctively adjusting his movements to maximize your pleasure. He noticed how you gripped the bedsheets when he hit just the right spot, the flush that spread across your cheeks when he picked up the pace, and the soft whimpers that escaped your lips when he changed angles.

Your bodies moved together in perfect sync, each thrust driving away the lingering stress of the day. Keegan let go of all his inhibitions, allowing himself to be consumed by the sensations coursing through him. He held onto your hips, driving into you with ferocity.

Keegan couldn't contain his admiration as he looked at you, your beauty illuminating the room in a way that brought a warm smile to his face. He gently traced a finger along your jawline, appreciating the softness of your skin. He leaned in for another kiss, savoring the taste of your lips and the feel of your body pressed against his.

"Beautiful," he murmured before lowering his head to capture your nipple between his lips. Keegan reveled in your sharp intake of breath and the way your body arched toward him, your hands tangling in his short, dark hair. He moved his mouth to your other breast, lavishing attention on it while his hand continued to tease your sensitive clit.

His hands roamed over your curves, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. When your breath hitched and your body began to tremble beneath him, Keegan knew you were close. He reached down to rub your clit in firm circles, his touch sending you over the edge. Your orgasm triggered his release, his hips jerking as he came hard inside you.

He collapsed onto you, his weight supported by his elbows, as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your bodies remained entwined as you rode out the aftershocks of your shared climax, Keegan's heart pounding against your chest. He softly kissed your forehead, murmuring, "Happy birthday to me."

main masterlist, rules

[lqveharrington]

Handsome As Always | V.

summary: After three years of dating, you and Vox decide to tie the knot. But what happens when Vox lets his fears consume him?

pairing: Vox x Lucifer’s Daughter!Reader

includes: MAJOR FLUFF, insecure Vox, over-protective Lucifer, Charlie being herself, Valentino being his usual self (that’s pretty much it, let me know if I’m missing anything!)

a/n: this can be read as a part two of ‘you look beautiful’ but can also be read individually!

Ever since your father deemed it was all right to date Vox, you’ve watched your relationship grow in many ways. Vox gained upgrades to his technical self while you gained more recognition as the upcoming Queen of Hell. Your relationship became more well-known to the Pride Ring, and eventually, the news made its way down the other rings. However, there were things you believed never changed. Like Vox’s fears that were kept hidden from lowlife sinners and Overlords.

Vox feared a total of three things as an Overlord and as your loving boyfriend. He feared your father, rejection, and losing you from his life in Hell. And throughout your three-year relationship, you were able to witness each fear creep up behind him at least once.

But there were times you didn’t realize they were happening or being kept from you.

“You promise to watch over my little girl?” Lucifer handed Vox a velvet box, watching the Technology Overlord nod with fervor. “You better. If not, I swear I will not hesitate to wipe you out of existence with the snap of my finger, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Vox tucked the box away into his suit pocket, flattening the new creases made. “I understand. I promise I will cherish your daughter until the day Hell freezes over.”

“Good.” He gave a harsh pat to the back of the Overlord’s back, earning an awkward chuckle from him. The two stood in silence for a hot minute, waiting for something else to happen before you walked in with Charlie trailing behind you.

“Dad, Charlie said she didn’t take the necklace but… Vox?” You give him a quizzical look, snapping your earring on. You and Charlie glanced at one another before you spoke again, smoothing out your skirt. “What are you doing here so early? I wasn’t expecting you to be here for another thirty minutes.” You squint when your father scoots away from where he originally stood. “Nonetheless seeing you with my father.”

Vox pulled you into his arms, squeezing your waist. “I just thought I could come earlier. I don’t mind waiting a little longer if you need more time, gorgeous.”

“Cheeky picture box.”

“I’m a flat screen. Upgraded, remember?” He teased, tilting his head at the way you grinned up at him. “You love me.”

“I do.” You let him lift your chin and press a kiss to your lips, smiling softly.

Lucifer coughed, “Won’t you look at the time? Sweetheart, you have to get ready for your date if you want to leave with Vox anytime soon.”

You separate with a grin etched on your face despite the eye roll you gave your father, gaining a chuckle from your partner. “I’ll be back soon.”

The second you left the foyer, Charlie was shooting questions toward Vox, bouncing on her heels at her sister’s soon-to-be fiancé. “Did my dad give you the ring? Are you excited? Gosh, my heart is pounding for you two! Do you know how you’ll propose? Who else knows that you’re proposing tonight?”

“Yes, more nervous than excited, mine is too, nope, and just you guys and Alastor,” Vox answered all her questions with a lopsided smile, fiddling with his fingers.

“Nervous? What for?” Charlie sat on her hands to prevent more movement. “It’s not like she’ll reject you after rejecting a million other guys. She actually loves you. Those other guys just asked her ‘cause she was royalty.”

“Charlie!” Lucifer glared in his daughter’s direction, earning a quiet squeak from her. “She won’t reject you, Vox. She truly loves you. She would never leave you.”

The father-daughter duo watched Vox glitch at the newfound information, both cursing themselves for making the sinner a mess. Vox was fine until Lucifer and Charlie began talking about your past experiences. The fear seeped into him as he felt his fans kick on, becoming a glitching mess by the time Lucifer was able to speak again.

“Okay, uh— I’m not sure how to fix this.” He rested his hands on his cane, looking back at the stairs and the sinner glitching in front of him. “Listen, uh, my daughter isn’t one to date someone for three years and just leave. She really does love you. I mean, she gives you these lovesick looks whenever she sees you!” Lucifer sighed when the thought of his little girl getting married appeared, a soft smile etching on his lips.

Charlie clasped her hands together in excitement, “And I’m sure she wouldn’t say no either. You two are perfect for each other…”

“What now?” You stick your head in between hers and your father’s, resting on Charlie’s shoulder.

“Come here, let me look at you.” Lucifer pulled his eldest to the front of him, eyes beaming with pride. “You look amazing, honey.”

“Thank you.” You do a full turn before you feel an arm pull your waist to a chest, warmth filling your own. “Hi, handsome.”

“Are you ready to go, my love?” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, missing the way Charlie and Lucifer glanced at one another.

“Of course.” You spun in his arms, linking your hands together.

You watched as Vox consistently dropped his fork, apologizing each time for the clattering noise. You purse your lips at his nth time for apologizing, the fork hitting against the table. Today was supposed to be a relaxing night for your anniversary, but something was bothering your other half. So in return, it bothered you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You set down your utensils and reach for his hand that wasn’t messing with the food on the plate. “You’ve been fidgeting since we left the manor.”

“Sorry, there’s just a lot going on in my mind.” He squeezes your hand and meets your eyes. His gaze relaxes within a second, giving you a soft grin. Vox sees it now, the look your father was talking about. He takes both your hands in his, “I love you.”

“I love you too, Vox.” You smile and rub his hand.

“I really do love you…” He feels himself heat up before clearing his throat, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Gorgeous, these past three years with you have been unbelievably amazing. You’ve been this light sent from Heaven for me and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me. You make me feel like my fans constantly need to be on, and you’re always there for me even if you don’t want to be… I love you more than any words can describe it. So…” Vox kneeled on one knee and reached for the velvet box in his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring Lucifer used to propose to Lilith. Your name fell past his lips as tears fell down your face, “—Will you marry me?”

You let out a wet laugh, nodding at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you, you cheesy picture box.”

Vox slipped the ring on your fingers before pulling you up from your seat and lifting you to spin around with him. “I love you.”

You rest your hands on his chest as he stops spinning, “I love you so much more.” Your lips connected, the feeling of electricity stronger than ever between the two of you. “I’m never leaving your side.”

“No?” He held you close, hands clasping firmly around your waist. “I hoped you would never.”

“Never.” You press another kiss to his lips, messing with the ring on your finger. “Is this why you were talking to my dad?”

Vox nodded, eyes filled with love. “How else was I supposed to get parental consent to marry the eldest of the Morningstar family?”

“Oh, shut up.” You smile and kiss him, feeling his grin in the kiss.

When you got back from the restaurant, Charlie and Lucifer immediately zeroed in on your left hand. You flashed your hand toward them before getting tackled by a hug when they saw the engagement ring adorning your finger, noises of excitement coming from your family.

Lucifer shook Vox’s hand when he spotted the Overlord, “I told you she loves you.”

The next eight months were taken over by your wedding plans. From the venue to the flavor of cake, you and Vox were present for all decisions, making sure everything was up to both your tastes. However, Lucifer handled all the expenses and invitations, ensuring that his eldest had the best despite Vox being one of the richest Overlords in Hell. Charlie was with you when you picked out your wedding dress, assuring you that everything was beautiful.

It wasn’t until the day of the wedding that you and Vox became nervous. More so, Vox.

“You can’t tell me you’re too pussy to marry la princesa now, Voxy. It’s your wedding day.” Valentino blew smoke from where he stood in the dressing room, eyeing the television demon. “What are you even nervous about?”

“What if she realizes she can do so much better than me?” Vox drags his claws down his screen, pacing around the room. His dead heart rate picked up, the paper vows in his suit feeling heavy with each second. “I haven’t seen her since two days ago! She might’ve changed her mind—“

“Vox, I doubt your doll would change her mind about marrying you.” Valentino points his cigar at him, rolling his eyes when Vox glares in his direction at your nickname. “You’re rich, she loves you, you’ve got the wits and brains, she has beauty and power. I don’t get what’s wrong.”

“She’s more than just looks and status!” Vox adjusted his lapels, smoothing them out. “This is such a stupid tradition. Separating the groom and bride before the wedding? They can go to Hell.”

“They most likely are.”

Vox sucks in a breath, glancing at the time. “Fuck, okay. Where’s Alastor?”

“You think I would know where your best man is?” Valentino pushed off the dresser and made his way toward the door. “He’ll appear when he appears. Otherwise, have an amazing wedding. I’ll be seated with Vel.”

Vox let out a frustrated groan. He truly loves you, but the fear gnawing from the inside out was making this day so much more difficult than it needed to be. His eyes twitched as the clock ticked, not knowing where his best man was and how his soon-to-be wife was.

You, on the other hand, were also pacing your own dressing room, Charlie doing her best to calm you down before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.

“It’s going to be fine! You look amazing, the venue is perfect, and you don’t have to worry about safety, what’s left to scrutinize?”

“Does Vox love me?” You whip around and stare at your sister with a distraught look. “I mean, I love him. He’s wonderful, but what if he thinks I’m a pretentious royal who is just marrying him for fun just to leave?”

“That’s not what he’s thinking about.” She gripped your arms, slightly shaking you. “Right now, he’s waiting to marry the love of his life in death at the arbor. And we both know that you love him until double death.” You let out a small chuckle, resting your hands on your bouquet. “And as of now, I need to walk down the aisle as your maid of honor and then you need to walk down with Dad, okay?”

You nod, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you up there, Charlie.”

“You look beautiful, don’t ruin it!” She exclaimed as she stepped out of the room.

You smiled as she left, then met your father’s eyes as he stepped inside the room. “Hi, dad.”

“Oh, baby, you look… You’re all grown up.” Lucifer gave you a small smile and hugged you, keeping his tears in until later. “You’re making me seem like an old man.”

“Dad.” You laugh against his shoulder.

“Are you ready, my little princess?” He reached up and cupped your face, gaze filled with joy. You link your arm with his, nodding. “Then let’s get you married.”

And it truly was gorgeous. Since it was a royal wedding, there were many people in attendance, but your attention was solely on Vox. Both your fears and Vox’s fears faded away when you met each other’s gaze, the admiration radiating off the contact. And you never broke eye contact with him, even when you met up at the altar. When Lucifer started officiating, you kept close by Vox’s side, doing your best not to kiss him right then and there.

“You look beautiful,” Vox murmured in your direction, making your smile wider.

You glanced over to meet his eyes, “Thank you… You look handsome as always.”

You both chuckled at your words, knowing you said those exact same words to one another when he first met your father. Soon enough, vows were completed with few tears, and rings were passed over, the only thing left was the pronouncement.

“By the power invested by me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Lucifer clasped his hands together, a golden, red, and blue wisp swirling around the newlywed couple. “You may now kiss your bride.”

Vox pulled you in by the waist, bringing his screen close to your face. “I’ve been waiting two days to do this again.”

“Let’s give them a show then.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you back with a hand secure on your waist and meets your lips, the cheers from the audience making you smile into the kiss.

“Okay, kids. Break it up, I’m still here.” Lucifer coughed from where he stood, not making eye contact with his daughter. When you throw him a playful look, he smiles, finishing the ceremony. “It’s my honor and privilege to present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Vox Morningstar!”

Vox raises his brow at you, “Your last name?”

“You don’t like yours, why not have mine?” You tease as you link your hand with his, walking down the aisle.

“I’ll have all of you if you want me.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the static from his lips gone. “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you more, handsome.” You rest your head on his shoulder with the biggest grin adorning your face.

Yeah, his fears were irrational.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Temporary Fix*

In which you meet a stranger at a bar, and he becomes your good night

Word Count: 3.3k of pure filth

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, cursing, spanking, hair pulling, p in v sex(use of protection), aftercare

There he is again.

The devilishly handsome stranger, sitting at the bar two stools away from where you are seated.

He had been here every night you had been, and always looked at you from across the room, or gripped your waist on the dance floor when you were really drunk. But whenever you thought he would make a move, he disappeared.

Maybe tonight was the same too.

So, you decide to ignore him this time. You turned towards the dance floor, holding a classic gin martini in your hands, and stared at the sweaty bodies , moving rhythmically to the pulsating beat. The smooth notes of the gin martini matched the electrifying atmosphere.

Taking a few more sips, you got down and walked to the dance floor, and just then, an upbeat song started to play.

You saw one of your girlfriends there, and she pulled you with her to dance.

You had no idea how to dance. You did when you were drunk, somehow, but right now, the alcohol hadn’t kicked in.

Yet.

As you began to move, swirl your waist, awkward moves ensued, but hey, at least the enthusiasm was there.

A few moments later, you felt the oh-so-familiar hand gripping your waist, and before you could blink, the man had pulled you into him.

Your body collided with his, his grip on your waist tightening. Your mouth dropped open, eyes droopy as you looked up into his hazy emerald eyes.

They were dark, pupils blown out in lust.

Maybe today was the day.

You sneaked your arms from beside your body, and gripped his arms. His muscular biceps that looked so hot, and you immediately imagined him on top of you, his biceps bulging as he fucked you into oblivion.

You blinked your eyes rapidly to remove that image from your mind, and focused on his face.

You both stared into each other’s eyes as you moved to the beat. A few moments later, he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Y'look really hot tonight”

You smirk, before replying, “Thought you wouldn't notice.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” he offers, sliding his hands downwards towards your hips.

“Sure” you reply.

Soon enough, he’s leading you towards the bar. His hand on your waist, pulling you closer with each step.

You both reach the bar , the dim lights casting a warm glow on the polished counter. The faint hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the air as you take a seat on the cushioned stools.

The bartender, approaches. "What can I get you two?" he asks with a knowing smile.

He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "What would you like?" he inquires, a subtle yet inviting grin playing on his lips.

As you ponder the menu, the atmosphere around you seems to buzz with anticipation

“A rum, neat”

“Same for me”

“Sure”

The bartender turns around, and begins to prepare the drink for you both.

“I’m Harry, by the way”

You smile, his name, laced with an accent, falling beautifully from his perfectly pink lips.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry”

“Y/n. That’s a beautiful name. So, you from around here?”

“Nope, moved from California, about 6 months ago. Completed my degree, and then landed a job. How about you?”

“Oh, California? Wow, I guess you left the sun for... well, this place. Brave move! And a job? That's like, responsible and stuff. I'm just a regular dude, you know, not as fancy as someone who completed a whole degree. I’m a musician. Came from England.”

“England, huh? That's, um, across the ocean, right? So, like, you're pretty far from home. And a musician, you say? That's cool. I mean, I played the kazoo once in elementary school, does that count?”

He chuckled, making you blush. His dimples were on show, and he looked so pretty.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really uncommon instrument. It’s cool you learned it, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t really remember anything about that now. How about you? What do you play?”

“The big ol’ guitar. And a bit of a piano, that I learned recently.”

The bartender slides the drink on to you, and you both grab it, before continuing the conversation.

“That’s really impressive. So, where do you live?”

“I own my own Residence. A bungalow, if you will. I’ll be glad to show it to you sometime.”

You like where this is headed.

You take a sip of your drink, and it’s really good. Something strong. Exactly what you needed at a Friday night out.

He brings his glass up to his mouth, and that’s when you see his tattoo-a cross on the back of his hand, near the thumb.

“You-you have tattoos?”

“Mhm, many. Would you like to see them?”

You’re surprisingly intrigued. You stare down to his chest, and you could see he had two tats near his collarbones, both sides. Another one was on the middle of his chest, which was only partially visible due to his unbuttoned shirt.

You gulp down hard. Damn, was he hot.

“yeah…”

Your voice trails off, and you hear him keep the empty glass on the table. You look up at him, as he is sliding off his bar stool.

“So, where shall we go?”

“Oh…how about your place? You wanted to show me, right?”

He smirks, “Great idea. Can we get our check here, please?”

He pays for your drinks, before offering you his hand. You gladly hold it, and he leads you out of the bar, to find a taxi.

“Is it too far? I forgot my jacket!” you say, feeling the coldness of the night once you reached out. You rub your palms on your arms, hoping to get some warmth.

“No, just about a 15-minute ride. You cold?”

You stare up at him, and he starts taking off his jacket.

“Right. Here” he wraps it around you, and it instantly makes you feel at ease.

“Thanks, Harry”

“No problem, love”

As the taxi arrives, you both get in, and he gives the directions. The driver starts to drive, and you can't help but notice the subtle, intoxicating aroma that fills up the car. It's Harry's cologne and it smells so fucking amazing.

You gulp down, and turn towards him. Holding on to the backrest for stability, you grab the hem of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

It is unexpected, but he likes it. He immediately gives in, kissing you back with the same frevor.

Your lips are cold, but the kiss is hot.

You try to shift on the seat, and get on top of him. But, he pulls back and holds you back down.

“Hey, slow down, bunny. We’ll reach home and then I’m all yours”

He pulls your face back, uttering those words in your ear. You feel a bit embarrassed, but a kiss was definitely better than awkward silence during the whole drive.

“I know…it’s just, you’re so hot, Harry” you control yourself from releasing a moan at the end of your sentence, knowing that the driver was probably hearing everythong.

“I know, baby” he smirks, and pushes you back down on the seat, turning your face up front. You are about to frown and pout at that, but suddenly you feel his cold hands between your legs, pushing them apart.

You quickly turn your face, looking into his eyes with urgency. He stares back into yours, and gives you a questioning look. You realize he’s asking for permission, and you silently nod.

His hand spreads your thighs wider, the dress riding up. You pull out is jacket from your back, where it had fallen messily when you had jumped him. You put it over your thighs to cover yourself.

He reaches your panties, and gently pulls the crotch aside. You spread them wider, giving him more access, you are so desperate. His cold hand touches your clit, and you almost moan in pleasure.

“Shh” he whispers near your ear, before continuing the task in his hands.

His fingers find your clit, and he lightly grazes them on it. You swallow down a whimper, and pull your lower lip between your teeth.

His fingers travel downward, finding your labia and pussy lips. Without warning, he spreads them apart, and starts to rub your arousal throughout your folds. You close your thighs around his hand, and look up at him again. He gives you a look of warning, and you spread them open again.

His finger pushes in, feeling intrusion. He retracts it, and slowly starts to rub circles at your clit again. It makes you wetter, and makes it so much more hard to be completely quiet. He gradually increases his pace, feeling more arousal seeping through your folds. Spreading it all around, making a complete mess of your dress and thighs.

You throw your head back, and he pushes one finger in. It goes in with ease, and he starts to finger-fuck you.

You look down at his hands, his sleeves rolled up and prominent veins protruiding up. The said cross earlier is between your thighs, drenched in your wetness, making it more sinful.

You are getting close, the alcohol making your high approach faster. His long fnger hitting your g-spot, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your stomach starts to ache, the rush of the approaching orgasm coming faster and faster. You just need a bit more, a little push, just a little bit more and…

“We’re here”

He immediately retracts his hand, and you blink open your eyes, mouth falling open. You take a few moments to realize that you’re in the back of a taxi, and you need to get out soon.

The car comes to a halt, and you pull your dress back down. Pushing your legs closed together, your wet, drenched panties get rolled up messily, making it more uncomfortable.

With Harry’s jacket in your hands, you try to pull yourself out gracefully, but your legs are wobbly, and your cheeks are flushed red.

You look so fucked out.

You stand by the car as Harry pays him, and he leaves.

As soon as he leaves, he puts his left hand into his mouth, licking off the remnants of your arousal.

That bastard.

You hurry behind him, as he walks across the road and opens the gate. He unlocks it, and then another one. Almost 2 minutes, and you’re finally in.

As soon as the door is locked, you throw away the jacket, and climb up on him again. He catches you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He pulls your dress back up, grabbing the panties harshly and tearing them apart, and pulling them off from between your legs.

If you were not so desperate to get fucked, you would’ve fought him over them. But right now, you are desperate to get fucked by him.

He walks you to his living room, and to the sofa where he puts your down on the armrest. You both start making out again, tongues sliding messily into each other’s mouths. You can taste the rum in his mouth, and his intoxicating smell makes you whimper into his mouth.

“So desperate…” he remarks, and you grab his hair, getting his mouth back on yours.

A few moments later, you both pull back, desperate for some oxygen. Your hairs are disheveled, lipstick smudged. But to Harry, you look so beautiful.

“Y’gonna let me taste you? Have my tongue between those pretty thighs?”

On another day, you would. Spread open your legs and have him eat you out for hours. But right now, you just want to feel him inide you.

“No, I-I want to feel you, Harry. I wanna feel your cock inside me” you stare into his eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so damn hot. Where do you want to have me? Here? In my bedroom?”

“Here. Please?”

“Yeah? Want me to bend you over this couch and fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?”

“Yes, please?”

You look up at him with doe eyes, and he pulls you back down. Grabbing your waist, he quickly flips you over, and pushes you on the couch, so that you are nicely bent over in front of him. He spreads your legs using his, and your drenched pussy comes into view.

He unbuttons his pants, and quickly pulls them down, along with his boxers. He reaches the pocket for a condom, and tears the foil with his teeth.

Using one hand, he rolls it down on himself, and the other goes back between your thighs.

“Fuck, darling, you’re so wet”

He collects you wetness on his fingers, swiping his fingers between your folds. You push your head into the couch, his fingers diving deeper.

“So, so wet. Bet you drenched the car seat too, didn’t you? Dripping all over it. Bet the driver knew too. Your face was so red, cheeks blushed, lips bitten into your mouth. And your eyes, so full of lust and hunger.”

He pushed two fingers in, and started to finger you, while simultaneously stroking his cock. You moan out into the couch, grabbing into the backrest, anything to pull on. He pushes them to the hilt, and stills his movements, gently twisting them so you would feel his cold rings.

“Fuck. Jesus Chrust”

You whimper and moan, his fingers expertly fucking you back to an orgasm. Your legs clamp close around his hand, and you let out a wild shriek of his name, as you cum hard around his two digits.

“Fuck, fuck me”

Your breathing becomes ragged, and you turn your face, so that your cheek is on the sofa. After a few moments of letting you catch your breath, he speaks up.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay”

“Good. Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes. Yes, Harry please?”

He pulls out his fingers, and you whimper again, feeling empty. But that is gone soon, as you feel his cock line up with your swollen folds.

“Ready, love?”

You nod, and he finally pushes in.

You gasp loudly, his tip pushing its way in. His length follows, and you realize that he is a lot bigger than you had expected.

“Fuck, Harry-I-Fuck”

You curse into the couch, and he gently and slowly pushes his way into your tight cunt. You take in deep breaths, as you adjust to his massive girth spreading you open wide.

“Can I continue?” he asks.

“Yea-yes”

He pulls back, before gently pusing back in, till he is fully in. He repeats the same motion a few times, till you’re fully adjusted to his size.

Your mouth falls open, warm and heavy breaths passing through your mouth. He is going really slow, and it’s for your own good. But, you want it faster.

Harder.

“Harder, Harry-I-I want it harder”

He groans, before pushing back in, but with more fervor. A broken moan falls past your lips, and you gulp down, your mouth going dry.

“Is that good? Or you want it harder?”

“Harder”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea what you just asked for”

He pushes your legs wide, and grabs your hair, holding them in a makeshift ponytail for leverage to plunge himself inside you. You arch your back, and he pushes back in.

This time, there was nothing slow. He was going hard and fast from the beginning, making your legs shake and your eys to roll into the back of your head. You are impossibly wet, your wetness drenching his cock, making it easier to fuck you.

“Such a tight little pussy, fuck”

He curses, his cock fucking you into oblivion. His thrusts are rough and hard, making your toes curl. You feel his hand rest on your bum, and you want him to spank you.

“Har-Harry- I want you to-I-”

“What, baby? You want me to?”

“I want you to spank me-Harry-”

He quickly lifts his hand off, and strikes you with impact, making you moan filthy, and your pussy to clamp down on his cock.

“You liked that?”

“Mhm, yes, more please”

He spanks you again, and establishes a smooth rhythm of spanking you with each thrust inside your sopping wet cunt.

You feel so fucking good, on the cloud nine of pure pleasure. His cock fucking you so good and deep, one hand pulling your hair while the other spanks your bum red, you feel so fucking good.

“Harry-I'm close-” you mutter out, before falling back limp, your pussy clenching desperately around his length.

“I know. baby. Your pussy's getting tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me? Cum around my cock?”

“Yes, please, Har-”

You scream out his name, your eyes falling shut as you feel your orgasm take over. Black and white dots dancing behing your closed eyelids, a beautiful kadeidoscope of pleasure. Your legs begin to shake as his cock fucks you though your euphoric high.

After you're done cumming, he doesn't stop, chasing his own high.

“I'm close too, baby. Gonna cum inside this perfect cunt.”

He grabs your waist harshly thrusts, shallowing and slowing down as his orgasm approaches.

“Fuck, Mhm, Jesus-So fucking good, Christ-”

He rambles as his orgasm takes over, and you feel his warm cum inside your pussy, filling up the condom. Your tight cunt milks him off all he has, and he continues to fuck you till he is completely empty.

He stills inside, his cock throbbing and making you close your legs shut, wanting to keep him inside for longer. He catches his breath, gasping for air as he tries to pull out slowly.

“No, don't- I wanna feel you inside for longer”

You manage to say it in one breath, hoping he won't take you to be desperate and needy, even though it is what you were mere minutes ago.

“As you wish, darling” he stills back, holding you and pulling you back up. You both scoot awkwardly, and fall down on the sofa, you on top of him.

You could feel his chest on your back, rising and felling with each breath. You carefully turn around, keeping your legs on either side of his waist, and you face him.

He looks so beautiful, his post-orgasm face making you feel so warm and giddy. You lean down, and sweetly kiss him on his pink lips.

There’s comfortable silence between you two, the post-orgasmic glow taking over and making you feel so good and droopy.

“That was-really really good. Like, the best I've had in a long time.” you blush while admitting that, and he holds you close, making you feel safe.

“Glad you liked it. It was incredible for me too”

You both smile fondly, feeling so much connected in that moment.

“You okay? Want something to eat? Water?”

“Yeah, but afterwards. Wanna hold you for a while.”

“Sure, baby. You can hold me for as long as you like.” you grip your arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go.

>>>

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[mysaintkitten]

hii first of all i just wanna say your writing is amazing & you are so very talented 🤍!!!! every time i see you’ve posted something i can’t wait to read it :]

anyway!! i was hoping i could request a jonathan crane x reader fic in which he gets jealous and protective over his gf <3 reader is really pretty (like one of those pinterest or ig baddies) and not the type of girl people typically picture a doctor dating lmaoaoao but he gets jealous n stuff bc people hit on her 😭 ugh i’m rambling now but ty ily 🤍

thank you so so much !! you are so kind !! i appreciate it very very much !! ilyt !!

Claimed | Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

prompt: someone tries to flirt with you at an event, and jonathan doesn’t take it lightly (NSFW!! NO MINORS!!)

WARNINGS: brief awkward interactions with pushy men, mentions of spiked drinks/possible death, implications of murders/killing, unprotected sex (p in v), jonathan and reader are both possessive, breeding/pregnancy kink, squirting, creampie

word count: 4.3k *not proofread*

“sweetheart, we’ve gotta go soon!” jonathan calls out to you from the front room. he stands in front of a large full body mirror making some final adjustments before he leaves. he takes a deep breath and slides a small syringe into his pocket. hopefully he won’t have to use it, but tonight could be hectic.

there’s a large event in gotham tonight and jonathan wants to make sure he looks his absolute best before showing up. though, he doesn’t think he’ll have to worry so much. with you on his arm, he doubts anyone will be paying much attention to his looks.

jonathan wasn’t an ugly man by any means, but you’ve lost track of how many times people told you that you’re out of his league. you didn’t see it. he’s handsome, smart, and sweet. well, sweet towards you, at least. and that’s what mattered.

“i’m coming, just hold on!” you shout back from the bedroom as you slip on your heels. you quickly walk towards the vanity before flattening our your dress and shifting it around so it hugs your body just right. once you’re happy, you head out and meet jonathan in the front room. as soon as he sees you, his anxiety begins to fade and a proud grin appears on his lips.

“darling ..” he coos as he begins to take a few steps to meet you in the middle. he runs his hands along your arms and kisses you softly, making sure he doesn’t ruin your makeup in any way.

“do i look nice?” you ask, jonathan chuckles breathily. “you look stunning, my love. now come on, we’ve gotta go.”

you sigh as he lightly grabs your wrist and starts to lead you outside, “nothing wrong with being fashionably late, jon.”

the drive to the event is rather quiet, you stare out the window, jonathan stays fixated on the road with his hand on your thigh. after a few minutes pass and you begin to arrive closer to the event jonathan decides to give you a brief rundown of what to expect.

“all right, these people will be obnoxious. and pretentious. and dull. but all you have to do is smile and nod and look pretty, okay?” jonathan asks sweetly. he’s not exactly asking you, he’s telling you. but you don’t mind, this is his event after all, you’re really just there to be eye candy. a subtle little ‘fuck you’ to the people who doubted him and his abilities to find love. jonathan was perpetually single for years until he met you, and the people around him made it their mission to never allow him to forget it. but you flipped a switch within him. his soft, gentle side began to spill out more and more. although he still definitely kept his cold and calculated side, he just tried to keep it away from you as best he could.

jonathan pulls up to the gotham museum where the event is being held. there’s a handful of people outside, standing and talking, but the real business is going down inside. you start to feel a bit nervous, you knew this event was going to be big, but this was more than you had anticipated.

you glance over to jonathan and flash him a smile, hoping to convey authentic happiness, but when you see him frown slightly in response you realize you weren’t very convincing.

“it’ll be all right, darling. i promise. you can cling to my arm the entire night, no one will bother you.” he whispers, petting the side of your face gently, “they know what i’m capable of.”

the implication of violence gave you chills. it was hot knowing how evil and dangerous he could be, while on the flip side be so affectionate and loving. he’d get down on all fours for you, kiss the ground you walk on. he had never felt that way about anyone, not in the slightest. in fact, he held partial animosity towards most people. some stronger than others. after years of being picked on and ridiculed, it’s not surprising he felt this way.

you nod at his words and form a genuine smile, making jonathan smile in return.

“let’s head inside.” he hums.

you exit the car with jonathan and begin to approach the museum, already noticing people look your way and whisper amongst themselves. you wrap your arm around jonathan’s, holding him close as you enter the event.

as you’re inside for merely a few moments, taking in the scenery and people around you, you hear someone shout from afar.

“crane!”

you and jonathan’s heads shoot over to the direction of the shout, where you’re met with a man you’ve never seen before. you feel a bit worried, but then you look over at jonathan who’s smiling. you begin to relax, if he’s not worried, you’re not worried.

the man is finally face to face with jonathan, where he grins widely and sticks out his hand. jonathan laughs and shakes the man’s hand, “been a while, hasn’t it?”

jonathan notices your confusion and breaks the handshake to speak to you, “darling, this is a friend of mine from university, his name is dr. fiske.”

you’ve heard of dr. fiske before. jonathan said he was his only friend throughout university. it’s nice to finally put a face to a name. you smile shyly at him and stick your hand out to shake his hand, “pleasure to meet you.”

he shakes your hand and nods, “same to you, miss.”

“is this your girl, crane?” dr. fiske asks, a smirk forming on his face as he drops your hand.

jonathan nods while grinning proudly, “she’s all mine.”

“look at jonny go!” he exclaims happily, smacking jonathan’s arm playfully. jonathan laughs and shrugs, “i know, i know. i got very lucky.”

you can’t help but smile at his words, he always made sure you knew how much he appreciated you and how lucky he got with you. but to hear him tell it to others really solidified his love for you, you’d never been put on such a pedestal by a partner before.

“well, i won’t hold you guys up. it was nice to see you crane, and it was nice to meet you ma’am.” dr. fiske adds before leaving to head to another area of the event.

the night goes well. jonathan talks to people, and you do as he asked. smiled, nodded, looked pretty. and he was right, these people were like parasites. energy leeches. it was becoming more and more difficult to feign this contentment when your annoyance was beginning to boil inside of you. you can only hear so many rich pricks ramble about how great they are in one night.

luckily, the conversations begin to fizzle out.

“would you like to get a drink?” jonathan questions, already knowing what your response will be.

“yes, please.” you sigh with relief. it would be much easier to pretend to be interested if you were drunk, but having to do all this sober was really putting your acting skills to the test.

jonathan chuckles and leads you to the bar, “stay here for a moment, darling. i need to use the restroom. don’t move, i’ll be right back. order yourself whatever you’d like.”

he gives you a quick peck on the cheek before heading off to the bathroom. you really didn’t want to be alone surrounded by people you didn’t know. but you’re grown, and you remember what jonathan said. they know what i’m capable of.

“gin and tonic, please.” you order politely, the bartender mumbles and begins to make your drink.

as you stand there, clicking your nails against the counter while you wait, you’re disrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

“here all by yourself, hun?”

you quickly swing around with a confused expression on your face, and you’re met with an extremely tall stranger that reeks of alcohol. you have no idea who this man is, or why he’s decided to talk to you out of all people. of course this would happen the moment jonathan leaves your side.

“uh .. no, actually. i’m here with my boyfriend.” you respond flatly as you hear the sound of the bartender placing your drink down behind you, you thank them and grab your drink, bringing it up to your lips and taking a small sip.

“well .. he doesn’t seem to be around, love.” the man noticed while slurring, “doesn’t he know better than to leave a pretty thing like you unattended?”

“he’ll be back soon. and trust me, he will not be happy to see you talking to me.” you warn, feeling irritated at this man’s inability to take no for an answer.

he clicks his tongue and tilts his head, “aw. can’t even have a conversation with you? that’s too bad .. i’ll give him something to get angry over ..” he laughs as his hand begins to meet your hip, you push his chest back firmly, spilling a bit of your drink in the process.

“don’t touch me!” you snap, hoping to god that jonathan hurries up and saves you.

“sweetheart ..” the man chuckles lowly, putting his hands up defensively, “relax, now. what your little boyfriend can’t see won’t hurt him, right?” he whispers as he reaches to touch your hips again.

you go to push him again, “i said don’t touch me!”

in the midsts of your rage, your eyes meet with jonathan. he may be far away, but you can tell he’s fuming. he nudges people out of the way and quickly strides over to you, his expression becoming angrier by the moment. suddenly, he’s behind the man’s back with a drink in his hand. his gaze burning into the back of his head.

“is there a problem here?” jonathan growled, the man turns around and scoffs. jonathan’s visibly shorter than the man, but that doesn’t faze jonathan in the slightest. the man scoffs at him, “not at all, man. just chatting with this lovely lady.”

jonathan’s gaze switches to you, and you shake your head slightly, trying to convey to jonathan that you didn’t want to talk to this man at all. he knew what you were trying to say, and he knew this wasn’t your fault.

“interesting,” jonathan responds unamused, “well hopefully you’ve said all you needed to say. come on, darling. let’s go.”

he reaches his hand out for you and you quickly latch onto him, avoiding making eye contact with the unfamiliar man.

he laughs, “wait wait, this is your boyfriend? jesus.”

jonathan wanted to leave as soon as possible to avoid causing a scene, but these little digs were making it harder for him to think rationally.

“yup. she’s all mine.” jonathan sighs, “feel free to look. but you cannot touch.”

the man laughs, not realizing how scarily serious jonathan is being. the energy is making you extremely uncomfortable. he swallows and forces a smile, “here, man. no hard feelings.”

jonathan hands his drink over to the man, to which he accepts it and nods. “yeah man, no hard feelings.” he mumbles while taking a sip. you’re confused. jonathan has never behaved like this. normally, he’d resort to getting violent, yet he gave this man a drink like it was some sort of reward.

you clench harder on jonathan’s arm and the two of you turn to leave, you hear the man make one final comment from behind you;

“keep me in mind, sweetheart. i know you’ll be thinking about me.”

you shudder from discomfort, speeding up your pace as you head towards the door.

once in the car, you sit awkwardly in the passenger seat, unable to relax.

jonathan gets into the drivers seat and slams the door, “goddamn prick ..” he groans, aggressively putting on his seatbelt.

“baby, i’m sorry, he came up to me and he wouldn’t take no for an answer ..” your voice trails off as you can’t figure out what else to say

“no, no, darling, it’s not you ..” he assures, “it’s that stupid fucking bastard in there. who does he think he is? what makes him think he’s worthy of your attention?” though jonathan knows you wouldn’t betray him like that, he’s irritated at the man’s attempt.

you rub jonathan’s arm, “he’s arrogant. and he’s probably never been told no in his life .. he couldn’t win me over if he was the last man on earth.”

jonathan huffs and begins to drive off, you remember how jonathan gave him his drink.

“baby?” you whisper, interlocking your fingers with his,

“hm?” he responds, not taking his eyes off the road,

“why’d you give him your drink?”

he grins while remembering, “well, i couldn’t drink it anyway. i had to drive us home.”

that makes sense now that you think about it, maybe he was offered a drink and accepted it to be nice.

“and i slipped something into the drink.”

your expression drops, “what?”

jonathan just shrugs and continues to grin, “he needs to learn a lesson. i guess he just didn’t know what i’m capable of, but now he’ll know.”

what you didnt know at the time was as jonathan began to approach you, he slipped the syringe out of his pocket (which you didn’t even know about to begin with) and squirted the concoction into the drink hastily. your heart starts to race a bit, a mixture of fear and admiration. he really would do whatever to protect you. you don’t know how severely he’s hurt this man, whether the drink will simply knock him out or flat out kill him. you didn’t know, and that gave you a rush. he was already tipsy anyway, whatever happens to him won’t get pinned on jonathan.

“i’d do whatever for you, darling. anything.” he hums, clenching your hand harder, “i know, i know ..” you agree, “i’d do anything for you, too. i’m yours.”

he groans and loosened his grip on your hand, shifting your hand down lower between his legs, “all mine, pretty girl. all mine.”

you gasp softly as he guides your hand to his growing bulge, “you get so many men all worked up, baby .. yet i’m the one that gets to touch you, and hear all those pretty noises you make as you come undone.”

you run your hand along his clothed cock without his guidance and you feel yourself becoming aroused as your thighs tense together, the intensity of the situation was making your heart pound and your mind foggy.

before you know it, he’s pulled up outside of the house.

“get inside, go into the bedroom. i expect to see you ready by the time i get there.” he purrs, you hum while taking your hand off of his bulge, quickly heading inside and shutting the door behind you before kicking off your shoes. before you’re even near the bedroom you begin to unzip your dress, giggling quietly as you hear jonathan enter through the front door, locking it behind him while sliding off his shoes.

as you stand in the bedroom, you fully slide the dress off, tossing it on top of the hamper before quickly unclasping your bra and sliding off your panties. you scramble, slightly breathlessly, onto the bed, and lay back as you wait patiently for him.

a few moments later, jonathan enters, sighing at what he sees.

“oh, my girl ..” he purrs, walking over to the bed before crawling onto it, planting kisses on your ankles as he works his way up your legs, “so well behaved .. all for me ..” he praises as his kisses make their way to your thighs, where you slowly spread your legs apart for him. he groans at your pussy, continuing his desperate kisses along your inner thigh.

“look at that pussy ..” he hums lowly while using his index and middle finger to spread your lips apart, “god. i’ve killed men over this cunt, you know that, darling?”

you whimper at his tone as you shake your head, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth while staring down at him.

“well ..” he coos while sliding a finger inside of you, “i have. i’ve kept track of the men that have harassed you, hurt you, annoyed you, hell, even the men that looked at you the wrong way. notice how you’ve never seen them again?”

the more you think about it, the more you realize you never had to deal with these men more than once. the incident would occur, you’d tell jonathan, and he’d take care of it. it’s sickeningly attractive to know how far jonathan will go for you, knowing how absolutely pussy whipped you’ve made him.

you gasp as he slowly fucks you with his middle finger, your mind finding it hard to focus on one specific thing.

“for .. for me?” you whimper, feeling yourself becoming slicker

“all for you, my love.” he sighed against your thigh as he continues to place small kisses along your inner thighs, his lips inching closer to your swollen clit, “all for you.” he whispers one last time before suckling gently on your clit while continuing to finger you, sneaking a second finger in while you writhe beneath him.

“o-oh ..” you moan, “jonathan, please ..”

your pussy clenches around his fingers and he hums against your clit, slipping a third finger in as you whimper loudly,

“j-jonathan, please!” you mewl, snaking your fingers down into jonathan’s head and tightly locking your fingers into his hair, he briefly pulls off and continues to finger you while groaning “let me taste your pretty pussy for a bit longer, darling ..”

your cheeks burn at his praise, your thighs beginning to twitch around his head as you become wetter, the sounds of his slick tongue and drenched fingers become even louder. lewd squelches and soft whimpers are all that can be heard, along with jonathan’s occasional hums against your clit.

he can feel you become close, he’s able to recognize your involuntary jolts and twitches all too well. he pulls his fingers out and takes his lips off you, huffing quietly as he brings his slick fingers up to his mouth and sucking the arousal off.

the dirty act makes your chest flutter, he’s so desperate to taste each and every drop of you, trying his absolute hardest to make sure none of it goes to waste. once his fingers are cleaned, he brings his hands down to his zipper and button, where he urgently unbuttons and unzips his pants.

“who do you belong to, baby?”

“‘m yours, jon ..” you moan, batting your lashes at him. he groans as his jaw hangs slightly slack while he tugs his pants down, his cock nearly bursting out of his boxers. he palms himself while staring down at you, “‘n who do i belong to?” he smirks,

it rarely crossed your mind that the possessiveness went both ways, you were normally so enamoured by jonathan and his admiration for you that you rarely considered anyone else as a threat. but occasionally, jonathan would get hit on in front of you, and it would make you immensely angry and insecure. he’d barely even look in the same direction as other women, yet they’d still somehow think that was a sign to approach him. he’d shoot them down harshly. even the women that you felt could easily take your place, jonathan’s loyalty towards you never faltered. he wanted to make sure you wouldn’t have to go to the same limits that he would to keep outsiders eyes off of you.

you shake those thoughts aside to respond to him while biting your lip, “you’re mine ..”

he hums in approval while sliding down his boxers, both the boxers and his pants now sitting at his mid thigh, “that’s right, darling.”

he inches his hips forward and runs his cock head along your folds, spreading the slick around before teasing your clit with his tip. pressing against the bud and gently moving his cock side to side, watching as you wriggled at the teasing.

he chuckles and dips his cock back to your opening, slowly sliding just his tip in before pulling it back out, fucking you agonizingly slow with the head.

“d’you know how many men are gonna be jerking off to the thought of you? ‘n how many of them wish they could just get a glimpse of your pussy .. let alone sit here and tease it ..” he breathed, beginning to slowly side more of his cock inside you. your breath hitches at the developing fullness, “more .. please ..”

“aw, poor baby,” he coos almost condescendingly, “you want me to fuck you properly?”

you nod mindlessly and huff, purposefully clenching around him in hopes of getting him to put his full length inside. it partially works, you think, as he groans and slides more inside, still not bottoming out yet.

“use your words, darling.” jonathan commands, halting his movements again and leaving just his tip inside once more.

“please, jonathan .. please fuck me properly ..” you whimper embarrassingly, as those words leave your mouth he laughs breathily before sliding his full length in, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he thrusts back out and pounds into you again. he forms a quick, rough pace that makes you nearly cry with pleasure.

“o-oh, mmh, fuck!” you whine loudly, your back arching as jonathan’s cock forcefully hits your most sensitive areas.

“this cunts all mine, you hear me?” he groans while gripping your thigh with one hand and grabbing your face with the other, “if i wanna fuck it, slap it, breed it, abuse it, whatever i want. it’s mine. right, baby?”

you nod quickly with furrowed brows, pathetic little mewls falling from your lips as you stare at him through your lashes. you loved this duality about jonathan. sometimes you’d purposefully rile him up just to get him to fuck you angrily and almost animalistic. sometimes, he’ll make love to you and praise you the entire time like you’re a goddess that’s a blessing on this earth, other times he’d fuck you like you’re a filthy whore that’s sole purpose is to be stuffed full of cock. you needed both in moderation. right now, you were long overdue for one of his dirty rough fucks, so it’s kind of nice the way things panned out tonight.

“wanna breed this pussy so goddamn bad .. you like how that sounds, sweetheart? you want me to fuck a baby into you?” he purrs, his grip on your face and hip still tight, you nod and moan loudly, “y-yes, jonathan!”

he chuckles before quickly switching to a low groan as he feels you become slicker around him, “god .. you’re gonna look so fucking good all nice ‘n full .. i’ll make you my wife .. you want that, hm?”

“yes, yes!” you ramble as your mind goes blank, it feels nearly primal. like deep down, you’re just two ravenous, hungry creatures who need each others bodies and want to reproduce. that’s all humans are really meant to do, isn’t it?

“good girl .. such a good girl .. i’ll take such good care of you and our baby, darling ..” he hums, “open your mouth for me ..”

you lazily open your mouth and stick out your tongue, small whimpers being punched out of you as you do so. after grinning at how malleable you are in his hands, he spits in your mouth. he doesn’t even need to tell you to swallow, you do it anyway.

“that’s it, god you’re fucking perfect ..” he praised, it made you feel so dirty, your mind running on overdrive at the intense amounts of pleasure. you hadn’t even realized how close you were until you felt yourself beginning to slowly tip over the edge. this didn’t feel like your normal orgasms though, you felt something different within you.

suddenly, through jonathan’s harsh thrusts, your orgasm spills out of you while you whimper loudly. the clear liquid poured out of you and dampened the blanket beneath you along with jonathan’s pants. you twitch at the after shocks of your orgasm and jonathan’s pace never slows, “look at that .. drenched my fuckin’ pants baby ..”

“i’m sorry, ‘m sorry i couldn’t control it ..” you apologize as your cheeks flush from the embarrassment, you had never squirted before, and now you feel partially guilty for ruining his pants. not too guilty, though, because your other senses are still being dulled by the feeling of his cock pounding into you.

“no, don’t apologize, sweet girl .. ‘s cute .. made you feel so good, you made such a mess ..” he soothes, loosening his grip on you face and sliding his hand down to grip the other side of your hip with his now free hand.

his thrusts begin to get shaky and his breaths get heavier, “gonna come- fuck, baby, ‘m gonna come ..” he huffs through gritted teeth, his eyes shutting tightly as his grips get harsher. after a few more pumps, he’s coming inside you. groaning lowly as he holds your hips tightly against his, making sure he shoots his load as deeply inside of you as he can.

he thrusts a few more times to really get his come in there before slowly pulling out his softening cock. he leans back on his knees, you scan him up and down from between your legs. his cheeks are pink, his hair is messy, his forehead is sweaty, his glasses have slid down the middle of his nose bridge, his chest rises and falls laboredly, and his almost fully soft cock sits between his legs, his pants still around his thighs with a large visible damp mark from when you had orgasmed.

once he’s caught his breath, jonathan speaks;

“maybe other men should flirt with you more often.” he chuckles.

—

i have to be honest, i don’t think this is good at all, but i hope you guys at least like it! i’m sorry it’s taken me a while! i’ll be back on track soon! :)

[tomssexdoll]

can you do where reader and Tom were best friends and Tom was secretly crushing on her at school like 2003-2005 but then Tom had to leave the school because he got famous and had to go to tour and stuff and school was pretty hard for him but in 2009 he sees reader somewhere like in a restaurant and they talk about old times and then they go to reader’s house and then it ends with smut

i love this idea sm

Gone too long

PAIRINGS: Tom 2009 x Female reader CONTENT: FLUFF + SMUT SYPNOSIS: Y/N and Tom were best friends in years ago, Tom had to leave in 2005 when his career started to peak, leaving Y/N all alone. She didn't know at the time but he had the biggest crush on her and leaving her was one of the worst things that could happen. Later in 2009 he still thinks about her everyday, and then one day sees her in a resturant, eating alone. A/N: ee WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary and riding), nipple play, teasing, squirting

When I was around 13, I met this guy named Tom, he was instantly my best friend and we hung out for days on end, every time we'd see each other we'd always work to one specific corner store and order the same thing every time.

But in 2005, his music career started to rise and he got more attention. I'd always helped him and the band with getting gigs at small bars or house parties but they never really became super famous.

He had to leave and I was devistated, 2 years of friendship wasted. Little did he know I had the fattest crush on him.

As the years went by I watched as his career progressed, him turning into a handsome young man. One day I decided to go eat out alone, not let my thoughts get the best of me.

I picked a cute little resturant, a family owned business that had recently opened, everyone I know was saying how good this place was, even celebrities were going.

I opened the swinging doors, greeted by a waiter and being sat at a 50s themed booth. I skimmed over the menu, looking at all the delicious options, things from chicken burgers to beef burgers to nuggets to fries to milkshakes.

I chose a strawberry milkshake and a beef burger with a side of fries, I hadn't eaten breakfast earlier so I was super hungry. I looked around the place, noticing how all the customers looked so happy, couples sharing milkshakes, families bonding and eating.

Then, I saw a guy sitting alone, black braids with a black bandana, I decided to ignore him but I couldn't shake the feeling off that he was staring at me. I decided to look again and my eyes widened, a familiar face, the face I've loved for years.

I realized it was Tom and he had realized it was me, I saw him stand up with his food and rush over to me, sitting down in the booth, we were both speechless, surprised to be seeing each other after so long.

"Hey Y/N..it's been a while" he smiled softly, I nodded, not being able to form words, super shocked that he was actually in front of me after so long. "So..how are you?" he chuckled, munching on his fries.

"Fuck..uh..." I snapped out of my trance, "i'm fine..I have a really cool job and I haven't been able to stop thinking about you..I watched all your interviews in hopes you'd maybe talk about me" I confessed, my cheeks flushing red, turning my head to look away from him.

"I mean, I couldn't stop thinking about you too, I'd try distract myself but you always clouded my thoughts" he chuckled, reaching his hand out and grabbing mine, causing me to snap my head back to him.

"I'm glad I could see you again, you've grown so much" he smirked "you're very beautiful" he teased, sending a little wink. I giggled, "you're very handsome yourself Tom, I love the braids"

For the next 3 hours we talked about old times, what we used to get up to and what we've been doing for the past 4 years. The resturant was near closing, we didn't even notice that we had been chatting for so long, we just had so much to catch up on and so much chemistry, the conversation never went awkward.

"Hey folks, the resturant is closing now, can we ask if you can pay your Bill and leave? We're so sorry" the waiter came up to us, "oh of course!" I smiled, going up to the counter to pay for my meal, "no no, let me pay liebe" I chuckled "liebe? You haven't called me that since 2004, who do you think you are" I said playfully, a smug grin appearing on his face as he payed for my meal.

"Thanks for that Tom" I leaned in, kissing his cheek sweetly and holding onto his hand, our fingers interlocking. I had walked to the resturant since it was so close to my house, Tom of course drived, his black sports car waiting outside.

"You wanna go back to mine? I really did miss you, I don't want our little date to get cut short" he frowned, looking down at me, "of course I want to" I smiled, pulling him with me to his car.

He opened the door for me, "why thank you" I smirked and got into the passanger seat, buckling myself up. He came to the side and got into the drivers seat, starting the car.

He sneakily slid a hand on my thigh as he started to drive. I rolled the window down, the cool breeze hitting my skin, sending goosebumps all over my arms.

I looked at the empty streets, admiring the yellowy glow of the street lights. As we arrived to his house he guided me in, bringing me to the lounge room. I sat on the couch as he dissapeared to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of champagne for me and him, 2 glasses in his other hand.

He sat down next to me, pouring us a glass. We continued to talk for another hour, sipping at our drinks. Eventually we got tipsy, tension starting to fill the room. I had taken my jacket off, my boobs nearly buldging out of my tank top.

I noticed the way he just stared at my cleavage, a tent forming in his pants. "Tom" I called out, "oh..sorry" he chuckled, scratching his neck nervously.

I smirked and climbed onto his lap, smashing his lips into mine. His hands immediately flew to my hips, holding them tightly, deepening the kiss.

"Mm.." I moaned into the kiss, Tom slipping his tongue into my mouth and bucking his hips up, grinding against me softly. Our tongues fought for dominance, getting heated quickly.

He picked me up, holding me by my ass and walking towards his room, our lips still glued together. He pulled away for a moment, throwing me onto the bed and crawling to me, smashing his lips into mine again, grabbing my hands and pinning them above my head.

"Tom!" I gasped, his kisses trailing down to my neck, sucking roughly and leaving marks everywhere, basically claiming me as his. "Fuck.." he groaned, pushing his erection onto my stomach.

He let go of my hands, tugging at my shirt and pulling it off, along with my bra, revealing my perky breasts, nipples hard. "Ohh my god.." his breath hitched, leaning down and latching onto one of my nipples, sucking harshly.

I whined, "oh fuck! mm Tom!" arching my back, his cock pressing into me harder. He started to take his shirt off, along with his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude all while kissing and sucking on my nipples.

He eventually let go, dragging my skirt off and rubbing my clit over my panties softly, my hips bucking up "ohh..someones excited" he smirked, peeling them off and throwing them to the side.

I whined, growing impatient, he detected this and smirked, aligning himself at my entrance, slowly pushing in. "Oh fuck!" I cried out, holding onto his biceps as he stretched me out slowly, making sure it didn't hurt.

After bottoming himself out he started to thrust slowly, trying to get me adjusted to his size. "Fuck..Tom you're so big.." I groaned, scratching at his back, he chuckled and started to thrust faster.

Eventually he started to pound into me, hitting my g spot repeatedly, "fuck.." he grunted, leaning down and starting sucking on my nipples again, swirling his tongue around my sensitive buds, little moans escaping my mouth.

I whimpered, his cock slamming into me cruely, stabbing at my g spot desperatly, his cock throbbing in my tight wetness. He grabbed my hips tightly, grazing his teeth over my nipples.

I felt tension build up in my stomach, twisting into a tight knot. He threw his head back, mouth slightly agape, cock twitching in me.

He groaned, feeling his balls tighten as he neared his orgasm. He could feel me clenching around his cock, causing him to lose control, "I'm gonna cum! Fuck!" he groaned, ejaculating and spurting his hot cum into me pussy, filling it to the brim.

I moaned at the sensation of my pussy being filled, my orgasm crashing down, juices spilling all over his cock. "Holy fuck.." I panted, Tom fell down onto the bed next to me, catching his breath.

Before I knew it I was on his cock again, he grabbed me by my waist and easily picked me up, slamming me back down onto his length, making me ride him.

"Oh fuck!" I whined, he grabbed my hips and started to help me move up and down on his cock, "you're so fucking hot.." he growled, slapping my ass harshly.

I yelped and rode faster, his tip hitting all the right spots, "that's right baby, ride my cock like the little slut you are.." he grinned, reaching out and fondling my bouncing breasts, rubbing his thumb over my nipple.

"Ohh fuck!" I whined, bouncing up and down on his cock, chasing another orgasm, my cunt dripping with juices. I threw my head back, the pleasure taking over my body, no thoughts being processed in my head.

He started to thrust up into me, meeting my movements. Hands squeezing my breasts roughly, "taking my cock so well..such a good girl" he praised, I felt my climax building again.

I was drunk on his cock, it was like drugs to me, addicting. He smirked, smacking my ass again, balls slapping onto my ass, hips slamming into mine roughly.

"Cum on this cock again, now" he commanded, I cried out and dug my nails into his shoulders, legs twitching as I came again, a clear stream of liquid spilling onto his abdomen.

"Holy shit!" I whined, collapsing onto his chest as he came deep in me again, fucking the cum into my pussy so it wouldn't spill out. He layed onto the bed, pulling me with him, pulling out slowly and cleaning me up.

"I missed you so much baby..you've been gone for too long.." he looked deeply into my eyes, brushing stray hairs away from my face and kissing me softly.

"I'm so happy I can be in your arms again" I smiled, kissing him back gently.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @kaulitzsbabyy @ballhair @bkaulitzlover @estxkios @charliesgoodboy @tomsonlyslut @ge-billsgf

[pandorxxx]

Sweet mind of yours…

Lo’ak x metkayinan fem reader (all aged up)

Warnings: fluff, smut, cursing, creampie, orgasms, p in v, belly bulge.

Synopsis: you and lo’ak had been close ever since he came to your clan seeking Uturu. It was clear that you both liked each other, but you were scared. Scared of what might happen if you finally let him in. What happens when you finally do?

“Wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His words rolled off of his tongue like molasses with a bright smile. His baritone knocking you out of your trance.

You picked your head up, meeting his soft gaze. His eyes were pools of rich honey…inviting, almost too inviting. You were falling hard, and you knew other girls were too. He was the shiny new toy around the clan, but it seemed as if he wanted to spend all of his time with you.

His strong, calloused hands were delicately placed in his lap. His posture slightly slouched as he sat next to you on the edge of the rock. You’d normally bring him here to watch the sunset, but the sunset wasn’t the only view.

His freckles danced under the dimly lit sky, like painted constellations across his broad chest. His braided hair, placed in a loose ponytail as one braid covered his eye, courtesy of you. Once you told him how handsome he looked, he never stopped with the style.

His smile, so sweet and delicate. It made your heart flutter every time you saw him. And tonight seemed to prove no different.

“Thinkin’ about how dull my life was…before you came along.” You smiled back, a dusty purple tint staining your cheeks in nervousness.

“Is that so?” He asked playfully, bumping your shoulder with his gently. You let out a soft giggle, smiling down at your feet, swishing the ocean water around beneath you. You nodded in response.

“Yup. Know what else?” You turned to look at the side of his face briefly before turning away, avoiding eye contact at all costs. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to tell me, huh?” He chuckled, now staring at the side of your face, hoping you would give him the gift of your beautiful blue eyes. It was like you two were playing a game of tag. You were never good with direct eye contact, especially with lo’ak.

“How every girl here is probably frothing at the mouth for you.” You joked, but nothing about it was a game to you. It was scary to know that this could all end in the blink of an eye. He cocked an eyebrow, staring out into the crystal blue water.

“Nah. I'm not too much interested in any of those girls. Plus, I’ve got my eyes on a beauty already. Just wish she had her eyes on me…” the last sentence trailed off into the air as his eyes met the side of your face again. And you could feel the heat radiating on your cheek. He let out a patient sigh, kicking his feet languidly in the water.

“Why don’t you look at me?” He asked with a concerned tone. His hand engulfing yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you unintentionally pulled away from his embrace.

“I-I wasn’t trying to- Im sorry.” He panicked, before face palming, followed by a shake of his head in embarrassment. It became awkward, and you couldn’t help but think you ruined the moment.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to look at him for too long, or that you didn’t want him to touch you. In fact, you wanted all of those things more than anything else. You were just scared. Scared that if you stared at him for a second too long, you’d fall in love. Scared that if his fingertips grazed your skin the right way, you wouldn’t be able to contain yourself. And although he was sending you all of the right signals, what if you misread them?

It was scary for you, all of it. There were so many worthy girls here. Why would it be you? How could it be…you? The silence filled the air, and he couldn’t take it. It was all too much for him.

He couldn’t read you even if he tried. He had a feeling that you liked him, but you never really let him in. Never opened up. He needed to know how you felt about this. Even if that meant pushing the boundaries of your friendship by making the first move.

“Y/n…” he sighed, shifting his entire body to face you. You swallowed thickly, as it seemed that he wasn’t going to let this go. You slowly shifted your entire body to face him as well, crossing your legs on the rock. He did the same, pulling you alittle closer to him by your waist. Being as gentle as possible with you.

“You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on in that sweet mind. I can’t read you, as much as I would like to.” He spoke softly, engulfing your hands in his, still searching for your eye contact. Your heart ached in fear, knowing that this was quite literally now or never.

“I-I can’t. Please don’t make me.” You shook your head, tears clouding your vision. So many feelings coming to the forefront. Feelings that you’ve worked so hard to suppress. It was safe to say that you were madly in love with him, so much that it hurt.

“Yes you can, please. I-I need to know what’s behind those beautiful eyes that you like hiding from me so much.” His hands trailed up to caress your cheek. An audible gasp escaped your lips. Your body began to heat up, and not in the way you’d think. Not so much with lust…it was deeper than that. It was as if you had finally found what you’d been searching for. The touch you’d been yearning for, but was too afraid to reach out and take. He was your missing piece, and it was evident now more than ever.

“Y/n, I don’t know what you’ve done to me. But I can't seem to shake the feelings I have for you. Can’t seem to shake the feeling that we belong together. I just wish I knew how you felt about me. It’s like I know you…but I don’t. I can’t make sense of this. So maybe we can help eachother.” He confessed, a hopeful smile creeping across his lips. And just like that, he had your attention.

Your eyes met his after his confession. Your ears flicking in the wind while your tail swayed high behind you. “There’s my girl…” he smiled, watching in awe at your reaction. Finally confirming what you felt for him, you didn’t even have to say it…but you felt the need to.

“Lo’ak, you just kinda came in and swept me off of my feet. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I don’t know what this is either, but I know that I just wanna be with you. That’s all I wanna do, lo’ak.” You finally confessed, still maintaining that eye contact he’d been craving ever since he laid eyes on you.

He bit his lip with a cheesy smile. His hands finding your dainty arms, caressing them in a way of praising you for finally opening up to him. You shifted to your knees, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. His face was soft, yet his cheek bones were prominent and sharp. Your eyes traced over his intricate freckle pattern, unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Lastly, your eyes trailed over his lips. Your thumb gently brushing over his bottom lip. Now his tail was swaying high, patiently waiting for you to make the first move. He was just happy to witness you coming out of your shell. Just happy to be in your presence. He’d wait forever for you…

“If you wanna kiss me, I won’t stop you.” He chuckled. You bit your bottom lip, deciding that you wanted to do alittle more than that. You straddled his lap, holding onto his shoulders for support.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, eyebrow cocked as his hands found their place on your waist. Your lips crashed into his, essentially answering his lingering question. He let out a satisfied groan, shifting his hands down to your hips. You grabbed the sides of his head to deepen the long overdue kiss, instinctively grinding into him.

His huge hands guided your hips to create the right amount of friction. You both moaning into the kiss at this point. You could feel his cock growing by the second, and he could feel the pool between your legs. It was absolutely bliss.

“May I?” Lo’ak asked in between kisses, tugging on the back of your loincloth. “You can do whatever you want to me.” You spoke breathily, moving down to his neck, leaving hickeys on his skin.

“Mmm baby, don’t get me started.” He grunted, planting sweet pecks on your shoulder as he untied your loincloth from around your tail. He tapped your thigh, signaling for you to sit up briefly for him to pull the loincloth from underneath you, and you happily obliged.

An immediate flow of your slick trickled down to his thighs. You were more than ready for him, and had been for some time now.

“Take this off.” You whispered in his ear as you tugged on his loincloth with great force. He let out a soft chuckle at your sudden eagerness. He shifted you to your back, with him now kneeling between your legs. His eyes trailed your entire body, your freckles glistening in the night sky.

“So beautiful.” He shook his head in awe, reaching behind himself to untie his loincloth, the fabric dropping to the ground beneath him. His cock sprung up, hitting his belly with a loud, heavy slap. A string of precum oozing out of his tip. The freckles on his shaft

dancing individually in anticipation. Your legs had intentionally opened alittle more. You reached out, your fingertips just barely grazing over the base in wonder. He let out a soft gasp, his tail hitting the ground with force repeatedly in excitement.

“So beautiful.” You smirked, leaning back on the ground, ready for him to take you as his. Ready for him to have his way with you. He smiled at you, grabbing his cock to jerk it off slowly.

He then proceeded to thrust in between your wet folds, earning a soft moan from you. “Please, give it to me.” You whined, grabbing his cock to line it up with your aching hole. His eyes widened in anticipation, letting you take control for right now. With one simple push, you slide him into you slowly, your walls immediately sucking him in. You both letting out a series of moans.

“Fuuuck, baby girl.” He whimpered, gripping your hips to thrust into you expertly. Immediately hitting all the right spots in a matter of seconds. Your back bowed to the rock, exposing the large print In your lower belly with every hard thrust into you.

“Y-You’re in m-my fucking stomach, lo’ak.” You whined in pleasure, head tilted all the way back as your eyes rolled. Your dainty hand dancing around the print.

“I-I know, I know mama. Taking it so well, too.” He grunted, running his hand over the bulge briefly. The pleasure was consuming the both of you, more so you. You couldn’t seem to control the sounds that came out of your mouth, or the faces you made. It’s like lo’ak had completely control over you.

Your hands found their way to your face, trying to hide yourself from him. Your screams becoming muffled instantly. His thrusts quickened, and deepened. His tip constantly slamming against your sweet spot.

“No, no, no baby. I wanna see you.” He spoke lowly, gently grabbing your hands, holding both of your wrists in one of his large hands as he continued to fuck into you like it was the last time he’d see you.

You tucked your bottom lip into your mouth. Eyebrows furrowed, and face screwed in pleasure as you tried desperately to hide your cries.

“Oh come on, mama. Don’t hide from me. Let that shit out. You know you can’t hold it forever.” His baritone soothing your eardrum just right. He sent you slow, hard strokes. So intense that you had no other choice but to drop your jaw. Small whimpers escaping through with every meeting of his pelvis to yours.

“Yesss, juuust like that baby. Open up.” He nodded, licking his bottom lip as he stared into your eyes. He shifted your legs over his shoulders, before placing his hands on either side of your head. You were nearly folded in half. His face hovering just over yours, so there was no excuse not to look at him. He was deeper than he’d ever been, closer than he’d ever been.

“Lo’ak- t-oooo deep.” You whimpered, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He just watched you in awe. You were so pretty taking all of him, and he couldn’t get enough.

“I know, baby. You’ve gotta take it for me. You’re too pretty like this.” He moaned, rolling his hips into you as he stared down at your flustered face, waiting for a reaction.

“Ohhh my- lo’ak! I-I love you! I love youuuu!” You screamed, legs beginning to shake. He nodded in satisfaction, his breaths becoming short and heavy.

“Mmm, I love you too baby.” He confessed, a slight whine in his tone before his bottom lip found comfort between his teeth. You could feel it, your stomach began to contract, almost like you were exercising. Every stroke was revealing trickles of your arousal flowing down to the surface beneath you, and it was becoming too much for lo’ak to bare as well.

“Shiiit, y/n. You’re gonna make me fucking cum. You’re d-driving me crazy baby.” He whined, before his lips crashed into yours. You both muffling eachothers loud moans as your peeks neared. “Lo’aaaak. I-I” you moaned deliriously between kisses.

“Go ahead baby. Cum for me. I wanna feel that shit, you hear me?” He asked, a tinge of aggression in his tone. You nodded frantically, eyes locked on his.

“Cum in me. Pleaseeee!” You begged, pulling him in for another kiss. He sent you one hard thrust, rolling his hips into yours again with a loud growl against your lips. Your eyes crossed in pleasure. Your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, slipping off his shoulders and to the side of his hips. You pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around his neck as you let go on him.

“Yessss, I-Im cumming lo’ak. I’m cumming!” You whimpered, walls fluttering around his sensitive shaft. He let out a series of low groans and growls as he emptied himself inside of you. Thrusting into you languidly as his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

“Take it all, baby. Milk me dry.” He moaned, rubbing his head into your neck, scenting you to claim you as his. He sent you one last stroke before leaving himself inside of you. You both catching your breath as he laid ontop of you.

“That was…” he started.

“Amazing” you finished.

He flipped you both over, you were now ontop of him and he laid flat across the rock. You two were now face to face. Sharing the same breath. It was beautiful. “If you’d let me. I’d love to see what’s going on in this beautiful mind of yours.” He smiled, grabbing his queue, bringing it In between you two. You watched his trendils dance. You lazily reach behind you, grabbing yours to bring it to the forefront. It was almost like a magnetic force, the way both of your trendils pulled towards eachother like they belonged together.

You both watched as they connected. Pupils blown with an audible gasp from both of you. It’s like your memories of eachother were in sync. A little movie playing of all the moments you spent with eachother. Only things that’s you two would share, now and forever.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you more, lo’ak.”

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina @yeletta @blueslxt-primary @jackchampismybbg @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee @sweethoneycn

[musclejedi-tameem]

It started out as a normal day at Millbrook University. Students went to class and sports teams practiced for games. The band and choir rehearsed and when the academic day was done there was plenty of night life for people to enjoy. All except for Keegan and Jonny, they were rushing to finish their science project in the lab so they were not engaging with the wider student body. The two young scientists were very smart but clumsy and awkward in social situations but somehow they came together and started dating, but most of their dates were these long nights in the lab followed by some fun in bed if they weren’t to tired. But on this night things were about to change. As Keegan was examining the virus they were studying for their project Jonny accidentally spilled some chemicals on it and there was a small explosion. When the dust settled Keegan coughed and groaned, “I feel weird babe… fuck…” before Jonny could react Keegan began to change before his eyes! The skinny nerd began to swell with muscle, making his lab coat get tight as he grew bigger and thicker and then his clothes started to rip altogether. His groans got louder and deeper as he kept growing. His face becoming angular and handsome and his legs getting huge and thick. His butt swelled into a nice muscled bubble butt as his back thickened and widened but taker nicely into a v shape. Between Keegan’s massive thighs his cock grew longer and thicker as his balls swelled and dropped heavily between his legs. When it ended as quick as it began the small nerdy Keegan was gone and in his place was a huge muscle bro! “ mmmm me so horny bruh.” The new beast rumbled as he fondled his big package. “Bruh? What do you mean bruh? I’m your boyfriend Keegan!” Jonny yelled in disbelief. “Yeah you are bro, you’re my boyfriend and my bro. C’mon bro let’s fuck! You’ll see how it’s better this way.” Keegan smirked and flexed his new muscles, Jonny couldn’t resist the allure of his new hot boyfriend and pretty soon they went at it right there on the lab floor. But as soon as Keegan filled Jonny with his cum Jonny began to swell and grow too. The virus they had been working on was infecting them and making them big horny muscle bros, all their previous knowledge was gone and all they cared about now besides each other was to go and fuck more men to make them like themselves. This actually was easier then might be though because the two new alpha bros exuded a pheromone that made them irresistible to any guy that they wanted. It didn’t matter if the guy was straight or gay, he would become horny and need to be fucked or suck off these two and then he would transform into a muscle bro like them. In the course of a night most men on campus were either turned into gay horny himbos or about to be. Millbrook University was about to become Himbo University and soon that’s the only type of man that would be there, faculty included. They would all spend their days lifting and fucking and just vibing together. It was now such a peaceful happy place. And as soon as a guy left here he would carry the himbo virus with him and make more men like him wherever he went.