Overheard (TASM!PeterParker X Reader)

Overheard (TASM!PeterParker x Reader)

Summary: A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room. Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Words: 1.7k

A/N: lots of cursing, non-graphic but includes unseen masturbation, sexual innuendo, flirty best friends, making out & implied sex; college-aged characters

Overheard (TASM!PeterParker X Reader)

Peter's feet landed firmly on the rickety metal of your fire escape; perhaps a bit too firmly, the rusted metal creaking dangerously beneath him. He frowned—your apartment was old and rundown, but, as you mentioned each time he expressed his concerns, it was rent-controlled and much better than your childhood home in "Bumfuck Nowhere" as you so affectionally called your hometown.

He'd texted you just minutes earlier before leaving his place—it was several blocks away, but the trip was quick when superhuman agility and web-shooters were involved, so he slipped his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans and checked to see if you'd replied—you hadn't.

Your curtains were drawn, which was odd. Peter knew you loved the way the sunlight filtered between the buildings and seeped into your bedroom, creating a small patch of warmth right where you'd placed that ratty old wingback chair you'd made him carry home from the Salvation Army for you. Plus, your window faced nothing but a crumbling brick wall and you claimed to love the aesthetic of urban decay.

Even if you hadn't seen his text, you'd presumably heard him landing outside your window, but the curtains remained opaque.

Peter was about halfway through processing the thought of possibly using the regular entrance to your apartment—he had a key, after all, though he'd never needed one—when he heard a sound that made his heart skip a beat and his cheeks turn deep crimson.

A moan—soft and quiet and muffled by closed glass, but very clearly coming from the other side of the velvety curtains that were blocking his view into your room.

Shit. Peter gulped. Did you have a guy over? He hadn't known you'd been seeing anyone, and the thought of his best friend rolling around in the sheets with a guy he hadn't even met somehow set a flame of something ablaze in the pit of his stomach.

Another moan, this one a little more desperate. Peter felt gross all of a sudden, but found himself frozen to the spot, overthinking the situation, as he chronically did when it came to you. It was something that couldn't be helped—he might have had super strength, but you were enough to make his knees go weak.

Still, this was invasive. It was weird. He would throw twenty-one questions at you later, when you weren't...doing whatever and whoever it was you were doing at that moment. Swallowing that odd little feeling the was clawing up his throat, Peter turned to go, but ice flooded through his veins at the next noise he heard.

Peter.

His name. Your voice. There was no doubt about it. What the fuck?

Peter allowed himself to listen, really listen, and his ears pricked at the sounds no other person would be able to hear from his current spot. The shuffle of skin writhing on soft sheets, the irregularity of quickened breath, a heartbeat like a hammer.

A heartbeat—just one. Besides his own, of course, which was currently going wild pulsing in his ears. You were alone in there. Alone with your thoughts and your fingers and his name on your lips.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

Now he really had to go. The jealousy—for that was what it was—that had reared its ugly head only moments earlier had quickly shifted to something like excitement, a deep thrill, chased by a pang of shame that he had accidentally intruded on your most intimate of moments. You would absolutely murder him if you found out he'd been—

F-fuck. P—peter. It was a whimper this time, a barely there gasp.

His jeans suddenly felt tighter. Okay. He could do this. He'd slip away from the fire escape, walk around the block once, and then use the front entrance for the first time ever. That wasn't suspicious at all. He'd just stroll up the six flights of stairs to your floor, knock casually at your door, you'd pull yourself together and...well, no harm, no foul.

Peter nodded to himself and zoomed away as quietly as he could manage.

Meanwhile, coming down from a blissful high in your rumpled sheets, you reached toward your bedside table for your phone, eyes growing wide when you saw an unread message from Peter.

Just finished studying for Bio. Be there in 5.

It had been received 12 minutes ago and you knew when Peter said 5 minutes, he meant 3. Barring some psycho trying to burn New York to the ground, he'd arrived on your fire escape anywhere from 7 to 9 minutes ago when you'd been—

A knock at the door interrupted your train of thought and you blanched, all colour draining from your face as you rushed to throw on a pair of yoga shorts and an old t-shirt—for fucks sake, why were the only t-shirts in arm's reach ones you'd borrowed from Peter?

You knew it was him before you opened the door—no one else came to visit you. And if he was using the front door it meant he'd been detoured from using the fire escape window and that meant—jesus christ, it meant he'd heard you getting off to the thought of him.

"Hi," you breathed, trying to play it cool as you swung the door open to reveal Peter's face. He looked guilty as sin. He hadn't even been able to keep his secret identity from you, much less something as ridiculous as overhearing you masturbating.

"Hi," Peter replied, entering as you made space for him in the doorway. He avoided your gaze and your own eyes slid over his body, noting the way he faced away from you, hands hovering awkwardly near his crotch.

"Since when do you use the front door?" you asked lightly, closing and relatching the entrance in question. Peter shrugged, settling himself on your sofa—another piece courtesy of the thrift store. Initially, he'd hated the thing, but you'd restuffed the cushions to get the lumps out and now it smelled like you—vanilla and shortbread and old books and familiarity. It had even been christened with a tomato sauce stain from when he'd brought over Aunt May's lasagna that had never fully come out, even after two years.

"How was studying?" you asked, puttering uselessly around the kitchen and ignoring the heat on your cheeks, the odd fluttering in your stomach.

"Not bad," Peter answered, "I'll ace the test." You made a noise of acknowledgement in your throat. Of course he would—he was the smartest person you knew. "What have you been up to?"

Posing the question, it was the first time Peter met your eye since arriving, twisting himself to look over at you. There was mischief in his eyes, a daring look that said I know perfectly well what you were up to and I bet you won't tell me.

You decided to give him a run for his money. "I was thinking about that time we went to the beach last summer," you said coyly, a smirk tugging up at the corners of your lips, "Remember when we got so wasted we thought skinny dipping was a good idea?"

Peter half-laughed, half-gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently in his throat. "I remember," he said, "I was scratching sand out of god forsaken places for days."

"Pete," you chuckled, "There's not a single god forsaken place on your body."

That turned him red—good. There was a beat of silence and before you could blink, he had you pressed between his body and the cold laminate countertop. Damn superhero abilities.

"I could say the same for you, Y/N." His lips were hovering just over yours and from the way his hips rested against you, you could feel a bulge pressing into your abdomen. Part of you wondered if you'd fallen into a post-orgasm dreamworld, but Peter's familiar scent grounded you, reminded you that this was all very real.

"You heard, didn't you?" you whispered, not breaking eye contact. Peter licked his lips, nodded once.

"I did," he confirmed, faltering for a moment, blinking as shame pained his beautiful features, "I'm sorry—I didn't—"

"Don't apologize," you said, hooking your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans and pulling him closer—if that were possible. "It's okay. It's...good." There, you'd put it out into the world. Your move, Parker.

"Yeah?" Peter's pupils had dilated and he'd leaned forward to press his forehead to your own. You swallowed thickly. He was as into this game as you were.

"Yeah," you repeated, "Because now I can do this." You kissed him, pushing yourself up onto your tiptoes to meet his lips. It wasn't the first time you'd kissed your best friend—not by a long shot—but it was the first time you'd kissed him like this, like your entire existence depended on it. He responded in kind, thumb coming up to caress your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He pressed himself further into you, using one had to lift you up onto the countertop. That in itself as enough to make you groan—he was so strong.

Peter settled himself between your thighs, kissing you with abandon, allowing his tongue to swirl against your own, pausing only to nip at your bottom lip, kiss along your jaw, bite gently on your ear lobe. For their part, your own hands skidded along his muscular arms, coming to rest on his shoulders and then at the nape of his neck, tugging at his mussed hair and eliciting a noise of approval from him. You found that you liked it very much and wondered what other noises you could get him to make.

Peter broke his lips away from you for a moment, the sheer willpower of such a pause making him light-headed. "You sounded so pretty," he said, "With my name on your lips."

Your mouth made a little "o" as you blushed deeply, the comment somehow innocent and lewd all at once. "Well," you replied, gathering yourself, "I hope you'll do me the kindness of letting me hear the same from you." The thought of your name falling from his lips in ecstasy had you shifting in your seat for some friction.

Peter smiled wickedly, "Oh, Y/N, I'll do you any kindness you want."

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October 31st. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Double Weasley

George x Reader x Fred

Words: 1,636.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Slight Biting, Male Performing Oral, Female Performing Oral, Spanking, Gagging, Dirty Talk, Praise and Slight Degradation, Cum Kink(?), Threesome. 

A/n: This concludes my Kinktober! I am so proud of myself for getting all of them completed for you and hope you enjoyed one of the kinkiest months of the year. I think this is definately a ‘saved the best for last’ type of story. I really enjoyed writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it. I also hit 2.2K followers over the weekend and wanted to say a huge THANK YOU, I love you all so much and you’re all amazing. I will also be taking a few days off (only like 2 or so) just so I can re-group myself aha. Thank you for your ongoing love and support.

Ko-fi  

Keep reading

3 years ago

May I request smut/breeding kink with Din Djarin? I simply want to have his children😌

Give It To Me, Baby | Din Djarin x F!Reader

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Synopsis: Din realizes that his clan is dying out; That his creed is almost no more. You, being a lone traveler, letting Din do anything he wishes - you are up for helping him keep his heritage alive. 

Warnings: SMUT!, Heavy on the Breeding Kink, Feral Din, Language, Unprotected sex, PiV Sex, Mentions of Having Children, Mentions of Not Having a Family, Kind of Sad Din, Daddy Kink, Also Using Daddy as a Name for Grogu, Fucking in the Pale Moonlight (Thank you LDR for that,) Bath Sex, Breast Fondling, Lactation Kink, Nipple Sucking, No Foreplay, Cervix Talks, Din Pounding Your Cervix With Every Inch of His Life, Total OOC Din - I wrote him as a soft boi who just wants a baby and is really obsessed with pregnancy.

Rating: E

Author's Note: Oof yes, having Din's children would be fucking amazing!

Also it is going to be canon that Din gets all shy when you call him Daddy but, secretly it makes him feral. Sorry I don't make the rules!

Word Count: 6k

-----

Family is something of a foreign concept to those who grew up without one - those who struggle to find where theirs may be. Not everyone has the luxury of being welcomed into a clan without tragedy, without anger and rage; Pure love and happiness. It seems like a far away concept to most, especially those who had that stripped from them. It's a craving, the affection of another giving you that sense of hope and security. In a way it's magical, freeing almost - well, to those who have it. To everyone else it's an endless pit of despair and hurt - a vessel one could not dive into unless they need to know what that loss feels like. 

No one goes through that willingly, no, it's something that happens in the nick of time. One day you're happy and free, with your parents and siblings roaming the world in order to find a better life. The next? They're snuffed out like flames on a rainy night, swallowed and smothered by the Earth. For what, exactly? Why is it deemed okay to snatch ones family up like that in the night? That, is a mystery no one ever bothers to find out - a natural order of how the life cycle runs. It's inevitable that one day, everyone ends up the same way. But to be taken so young? That's a pathetic sense of order.

Maybe that is why you two got along so well - both being cut from the same cloth. You never anticipated that he would know what it is like to lose family - to be an orphan at a young age with nowhere else to go. To not be alone in that instance anymore is rewarding to say the least, not having to worry about those night terrors; Living that day over and over again takes so much out of you - so much grief and anger floods back in the little slice of time. Thankfully you were not the only one to experience those, meaning when he was back on board - he was your saving grace. Taking you out of that feeling of hopelessness and despair. Din made things that much easier to manage, that much easier to comprehend. 

To think, only a few months ago the Mandalorian himself would pick you up from Jakku - sick of running and causing chaos in your wake. All it would take is a humble handful of credits, then boom! No carbonite freezer for you - instead you got the pleasure of riding with the Mandalorian in the cockpit, taking over the seat from which he had newly added. Though the starfighter was not one for company - it was homey after all. Especially since the new upgrades Din had Peli put; The hull underneath was where he stashed bounties, directly behind him there was enough space to lounge. And the kid? Well he was happy in his little hidey-hole. Sure, you were use to elaborate ships but this? The intimacy of being so close? It was worth it.

What surprised you more was when Din gave you his name - his real name. Ever since Grogu came back into his grasp, Din felt himself becoming a bit more domesticated. There was this blackened void resting in his chest when he had to give Grogu up, but, ever since Tatooine - nothing else mattered to him. You had to admit as well, the little gremlin was growing on you too. When you would make a pit stop for supplies, instantly he would climb right into your lap, cuddling up to your chest - looking up at you with those bright eyes. The swell of baby fever never went away anytime Grogu placed his little hands on you, or how he would watch you like you were a goddess to him. 

Being a mom was something you never thought of in full detail, leaving that for you down the line. Now that you're older, and can feel yourself ready to stop the life of running - it was time. Baby fever is a bitch though, constantly overwhelmed with the idea of having a little one running around - being part you and the person you love the most. It sounded so lovely, so beautiful in your mind. The only thing was, your current lifestyle was not cut out for a child. It hurt you to realize but, after all that is life for you; Sacrifice is the main thing that you encounter daily. What you failed to realize though, was that the baby fever was hitting Din just as hard. Anytime he saw you with his child, something feral ignited in his belly.

"We are about seven minutes from landing, then we can rest up for the time being," Din let out through his modulator - sighing out with exhaustion. Over the last few days of travelling through the galaxy, things had gotten tense. Maybe it was due to the lack of sleep, or being so cooped up in the starfighter, or maybe just the annoyance of not getting out to stretch but, the air was so thick. Anytime you would lay a hand on Din's pauldron, or accidentally brush by his back you felt his body growing tense. When you would chat with Grogu through the little bubble he was in, cooing at him and making him coo - all you would hear is the tightening of Din's glove against the pulleys. In a way you thought he was fed up, annoyed with you - but oh boy that was the wrong picture. 

In fact, Din was obsessed with hearing you speak with Grogu. He was infatuated with your touches, lighting his body up like fireworks. Din craved someone being a maternal figure to Grogu, giving him that love to which he did not know; One Din lost sight of as a child. To have a woman as strong as you come around, take them both under your wing like they were always yours, only made the sacred Mandalorian fall deeply in love with you - though the brute would never admit it; Admittance would mean weakness, he could not risk it.

Each tug and pull of the craft made your stomach churn slightly, not use to the roughened landing the starfighter is capable of. With being as skilled a pilot as Din, it made sense that in the end, he landed the craft smoothly without any disruption. Always on instinct you close your eyes, wanting to see the beauty of the planet for the first time when you were on solid ground. This time however, you were given no clues as to where you would end up. Crisp sunlight made its way across your sternum, warming you, glinting off of your irises like it was nothing. Lush greenery made your heart swell, tears forming in the corners of your eyes at the beautiful sight. 

The vibrancy of blue wallowing back and forth of the ocean ahead - you were falling in love with this planet already. Having heard so much about it, a dream destination if you wish, you never expected for Naboo to be this gorgeous. Better yet, you could not believe you were experiencing it with such a man as Din Djarin - first of his name and first of Clan Djarin. Nothing could have been any better than this, really nothing else could. But in fact the silent pilot always had a trick up those beskar sleeves - he would never leave you hanging without an adventure, after all. "I know a woman named Sola Naberrie, she has offered to take care of Grogu while we run this mission." The huskiness of his voice crackling through the modulator was like logs on a fire; So soft, yet passionate about lighting that hardened wood up. It made you melt, but he could not see.

"I understand, is that her now?" You responded with no inflections, trusting Din and his commitment to keeping the child safe. A woman appearing in an almost burgundy cloak stepped forth from the barrage of security guards - keeping her face low and out of the sun. She was gorgeous from what you could see - aging so elegantly and beautiful; Her eyes shone the colors of the sea. Din quickly hopped out of the starfighter as you stayed behind, tapping small rhythmic patterns against the glass to soothe Grogu - wanting to make him feel comfortable. It was working so well, to the point where he let you open the hatch, just so he could climb on your lap. 

"It's okay buddy, it's okay. This nice woman will take great care of you while Daddy and I catch some bad people." The little guy has grown on you so much in the last few weeks, especially where Din officially has him back. After the whole fiasco with the Pyke Syndicate, Din made the promise he would never let Grogu out of his grasp again, unless it is with someone he trusts. Plus, this would only be for a few days, surely that is better than months away from the little gremlin. The hub of the ship came sliding up to the sky, giving you that fresh sea breeze of Naboo - almost lighting up your senses with a singular waft. It was Din's cold pauldron that broke you from your mind, taking the child from you, and coaxing you out with two fingers.

You couldn't help but to obey - Din made it so easy to do so. Grabbing onto Din's free hand, you began to exit the craft - falling behind the Mandalorian and the child, just to keep distance. Sola on the other hand was quite intrigued on how you handled the anxiety of the child, making her smile within herself; You reminded her so much of her lost sister. Din passed Grogu to Sola, watching how her maternal instincts kicked in upon arrival. Instantly Grogu curled up to her bosom, letting his bright eyes gently close, enjoying the sway of her body. "I will have him as long as you need, Djarin. Be safe, and please handle this with caution." With that, Sola and her men began to make their way back to the cargo ship, humming as they boarded with ease. 

The last thing you and Din saw was Grogu's little face gently sleeping against Sola's chest, a single wave as the cargo hold closed, leaving yourself and Din to the elements of Naboo. Now that the ship had left, all you could hear were the porgs - chirping along and singing to one another, the crashing of waves being second to that. This was a paradise within itself, you wanted to stay and bask it in for as long as you possibly could. Din thought so too, hence why he placed a gloved hand against your lower back, slowly guiding you towards the beach.

"Night will be here soon, we should get some rest before tomorrow." Din was never one for confessions, or for letting the infliction of his voice go away - he was stoic, maybe that is why you liked him so much. "We're sleeping on the ship?" It was a question you knew the answer to but, sometimes Din surprised you. Shaking his head and letting a small chuckle slip from his helmet, he used a leather-bound finger to point in the direction of the beach, letting you see the small cabin-like home, out of place amongst the lush greenery. Alas, you two would be alone after all, and not with a child in route. 

"No, not tonight. We will have beds. Come on, we will be safer inside." There was no way to protest this man, or to defy his direction. You slung your bag over your shoulder as Din watched you intently, keeping you in his gleam before the sun could shift to darkness. It got colder all of a sudden, the change making you shiver. Din was right, rest was needed - especially after an almost hour walk downhill.

-----

By the time the two of you arrived at the cabin, you were pooped. Legs burning from the constant strain of the elements, and trying to keep up with Din - you needed a whole hot soak in the bacta tank. But you could only settle on a hot bath, which was better in a way. What you did not anticipate though was the one bed in the middle of the room. Large enough to seat two but, would that be smart? "Neither one of us will be sleeping on the floor. We will have enough space, are you comfortable with that?" Din asked, letting the blackened T of his visor bore into your eyes. No words could come from your mouth within the moment - all you could do was nod and blink your tired eyes, ready to soak into something warm. 

Dropping your bag down onto the wooden floor, you gently extended your arms with full ease, feeling the cracks and pops of your joints fill the room. Being cooped up on such a small ship was not the best of a situation but, you had to make do - especially if this would be the outcome. "Okay, I am going to take a bath. You are more than welcome to join if you'd like." It never fully registered what you said, a tired haze hanging over your mind like a cloud of blankness. So hard to tried to comprehend your words, especially at Din's reaction of sucking his breath in. You, of all people, took the Mandalorian's breath away.

You kicked your boots off with ease, letting them rest by the front door as you shed your coat - letting than hang over the chair backing. Each layer that came loose revealed more and more of yourself to your travel partner - what you couldn't tell from under that helmet was, Din blushed. His cheeks the shade of a Tatooine sunset - growing hotter each fleck of skin you chose to show him. The control in which Din was trying to have did not work in his favor, betraying him with each grunt and groan of his leather gloves. All Din wanted to do was touch you, bask in the pillowy softness of your flesh and see what it is like to touch someone not afraid of him. 

But Din could not hide the strain in his flight suit upon imagining your body soaking wet, covered in bubbles as you sank deeper into the warmth. His body flush behind yours, letting his hands roam all over your being. He has been trying to remain in control the last few weeks of being on board with him; Now that there is no distraction, he was not giving this up to save his life. Swallowing harshly, Din dropped his utility belt to the ground, letting it lay their flat whilst undoing his shin guards, pauldrons and wrist guards. All the while, you were too busy in a state of pure tiredness and relaxation to hear the commotion - all you could think about was laying in the warm bath.

Getting into the bathroom, instantly your hands flew to let the water heat, filling the porcelain up quickly. Every fiber of your dressing was shed like trash in seconds, begging to be washed and prepped for the day ahead. Cold, night air flowing from the cracked window caused goosebumps to arise - pebbling your nipples through the thin band of your chest covering. It sent an instant chill through your body in retaliation - causing your body to jolt at the feeling. But you did not let it break your senses for more than one reason, needing to remain strong in order to stay away. If you slipped away now, you'd be a cold and cranky mess. With your panties and chest covering now hitting the floor, seated beside your cargo pants and top - now you let the elements take you, completely nude and waiting for the world to change around you. 

It was freeing to be in nothing, no confinements of clothing keeping your actions at bay - it felt so lovely to be free. Right on cue with your naked being, the steam from the water rose quickly - aiding the bubbling in their clusters. Reaching forth you turned the stainless beskar knob off, the aroma of lavender and citrus filling your nostrils. You pulled your foot up to test the water, instantly feeling your muscles loosen. It did not take long for you to sink into the bath, humming out with pure joy.

Involuntarily your eyes closed with ease, making you rest your head against the siding of the porcelain. Just as you felt yourself fully relaxing into the hot water, the sliding door to the bathroom opened, revealing one barely clothed Mandalorian - helmet and all. Tired eyes met his appearance, only causing you to smile softly at the nature of the situation; This night would change it all, the dynamic of your relationship would hit a peak in which you both were ready for, it would all be perfect. "Hi," you gently let out with a content hum, smiling up at your companion with ease. Din nodded in your direction as the lights from the fireflies illuminated the room, some candles already lit cascading over you with a warm glow. You looked ethereal to Din in this moment, a perfect picture of relaxation. How the bubbles crested right above your breast made his heart soft, and his body hard. Nothing, and he means nothing, could ever be so beautiful in his eyes - all expect for you. 

"Hi, mind if I join?" The question sounded skeptical releasing from his mouth, like Din was unsure you really asked him to do so earlier. But the tender smile you gave him spoke measures, letting him know it was okay. You picked your head up from the siding of the tub and push forth, letting your head hunch and slide to make room for your companion. "Please, keep your eyes closed. I am going to blow the candles out, and release the fireflies." Never did a companion of your ask for you to keep your eyes closed - for Din though, you'd do anything.

Obeying his command, you screwed your eyes tight - letting your other senses come into play. The hiss of his helmet releasing made your body quiver, sliding the heavy beskar to the tiled floor. Is this really happening? Were you really about to bathe with Din? Scooting your body forward to make space for him, you let your head rest against your perched arms - humming at the contentment you felt. Shuffling could be heard from your side as Din maneuvered his body, trying to keep the water from flowing over. The first strike you felt was his knee falling against your back, sliding almost comically as you were pushed forward - a small yelp escaping your lips, followed by a small squeak of a giggle. "I'm sorry!" 

Din let out profusely, trying to regain his composure as he slowly sank into the warm abyss of the bath. All you could hear was a moan of relaxation seeping from his mouth, his legs resting around yours in the oversized tub. What came next surprised you more than anything; Din brought his hands forth and placed them against your hips, grounding yourself whilst aiding you back. If there was one thing Din loved more than bounty hunting - it was skin to skin contact. Nothing was more intimate, nothing was more personal; Vulnerable. You could feel the race of his heart against your baren back, bumps arose across your supple skin - finally giving way to the passion locked behind solid beskar.

"How does this feel?" You managed to let out, resting one hand against Din's thigh as the other comes to rest upon his shin, drawing small circles onto the golden skin. Leaning your head back, Din took the perfect moment to rest his head against your temple, keeping his hands stationed over your hips and thighs - not wanting to intrude if you did not feel safe. "Peaceful. I haven't had that since - well, ever." You could hear the slight broken nature of his words, a small quiver releasing as he came to terms that this was okay - that there was no danger upon the two of you. Life was subtle, quiet - in the breeze of Naboo there was no danger lurking around the grassy hillside. For the first time in forever, the two of you were safe. 

Pressing your head against Din's, you let out a shaky breath accompanied by a smile, lacing your fingers against his on your hip. "Good, you need this. We need this." The insinuation on we made Din suck his breath in, body going rigid under yours. From this position you could feel the straining of his half-hard cock pressed against your backside, more-so in tune with his muscular thighs. One hand snaked around to caress the inner portion of your thigh, as the second hand came to rest flush against your lower belly. "Can I speak my mind for a moment?" Din let out, barely above a whisper - but with his forehead directly against you, it was impossible to not hear it.

"Always, Din." There was never a doubt in his mind that you would tell him to stop, to keep it at bay instead of letting it out. You always listened to him, cared for him, made sure he was feeing confident and safe. In this moment he wanted nothing more than to let everything out he has been bottling up these last few days - weeks even. Ever since Din first laid eyes upon you, he knew you would be his. Din knew, you would last. You could sense something was out of sorts by the way his hand ghosted to your side, wrapping the meat of his forearm around your belly, hauling you closer onto his lap. Din needed you, he needed to feel all of you in order to realize, you were real - not some sick part of his imagination. 

He always felt as if things were never good enough for him; When he got too comfortable, something was always ripped out from him. If anything happened to you, or him, he wanted you to know how you made him feel. "Nothing awakens a more paternal feeling in me than seeing how you handle Grogu." Of all things the Mandalorian was capable of speaking, this was what took you out of your own head, and placed you within his. Din was a made man internally, the nature of his words were something straight out of your dreams, making the core between your thighs run molten, and hot. Taking you a bit further was the feeling of his plush lips pressed against the shell of your ear, slipping a ragged breath into you. "Seeing you with my son, something feral wants to come out. Does that scare you?"

Never, is all you could think of, but words escaped you in the moment. Instead of directly responding to Din's words, you instead let out a sultry moan - clamping your teeth down against your lip in hopes to mask it. But alas, with your luck Din heard, and it was enough to make him chuckle - watching you with immense passion. "Look at me, cyar'ika," the Mando'a slid right off of Din's tongue with gentle ease, only causing more of your slick to seep into the waters below. Obeying the command of the Mandalorian, slowly you craned your neck to stare at Din, darkness flowing through the night. Though you could not see him, you could sense him, and that is what mattered most. But you were taken by surprise when Din illuminated the room with his light beacon, sending a glow of fire throughout the spacious room. 

Each speck of the light reflected off of the multicolored bubbles, causing your heart to grow fond, and your stomach to flop with anticipation. As Din brought the beacon up, all you could do was marvel in his beauty. Lush, brown locks mended into curls upon his head looked so plush - you wanted to run your fingers through it. The furrow of his brow, causing faint lines to spring across his skin. A soft radiation of mocha coming from his eyes made your body burn, but not before those rose colored lips parted - delicate pink tongue draped across the chapped skin. "See me for who I am, not what I have done. See me, in my feral state."

You felt as if this was a bit out of character for Din, being so poetic and immersive - rather than stoic and blunt. It was nice to see him in more of a lax state, whether it was due to the bubbles, you, or just being out of the cramped ship. The man covered in beskar steel, was more than he let on; Passionate and fiery with appreciation. You lit something within him that could no longer be contained. Din Djarin, was about to show you what was up. Pressing your forehead's together from your shoulder, Din brought his hand down to gently cup your lower belly once more, rubbing his large, calloused fingers over the soft skin. You couldn't help but to whimper at the sensation, causing Din to gasp lowly. To spur the man behind you on, softly you puffed out your belly, letting your eyes fixate of Din's gorgeous face. It was impossible to not see the glint of possessiveness in his eyes, or to feel how grip growing stronger. He slid the wet hand against your puffed out belly, rolling his hips up to you, chasing the feeling of you. 

"There is nothing more I wish to see than you round with my child, to carry my ad. To help Clan Djarin grow." Each word that came from Din had you reeling, his hands exploring every inch of your wet skin while your body sank into him. You parted your thighs in a haste, wanting to feel Din more than ever before, wanting him to make do on his promise, and give you his seed. "You have my blessing, Din. Let me carry your child - our child. Let us be the parents ours never got to be." That was all it took for Din to lose himself; You sent him over the edge so quickly.

Din wasted no time in propping your hips up with his own, dragging the blunt head of his cock through your sopping folds. The sensation in itself felt like pure bliss, knowing you were ready enough for his member to slip right on in, making home within your cavern. The notch of his thick head against your opening made you shudder, but aiding in the relaxation was Din's mouth on your neck, sending slow, intricate kisses over the skin - making you yearn for this man. It was enough of a distraction that you sunk fully onto his cock, letting a string of whiny moans slip past your lips. 

"Good girl, just feel. Take it in, you're so warm." Din was spurting off babble enough to make your body ignite. The way he stretched out your cunt felt like home; Warm, safe and secure with no imminent threat of danger. From how Din was hugging you from behind, you could tell it was the exact same for him as well. His bare face rested in the slope of your shoulder and neck, peppering soft, sweet kisses to the skin, letting you accommodate the new feeling. Bringing your hands up, you laced them through Din's curls, feeling every inch of his hair as if you were one with it, tugging lightly at the nape. It sent a shock through Din's system at the feeling, aiding in him slowly thrusting - trying to fill the space between the two of you. Two bodies melded into one, connected forever by the base - there would be no going back.

The few elongated thrusts that Din provided you at first felt like fire; Scrubbing your walls with such lovely passion, it felt as if you would die from that alone. The hilt of his cock brushed right against your cervix, sending a wave of a painful pleasure through your orifice. "Shit, Din you - you feel perfect," you moaned with a squeal, digging your nails right into his scalp. Every groan and grunt Din let out of his mouth felt like touching the clouds - euphoric and blissful in this current state. No man has ever hit such deep depths within you, not like Din could. The way he worked your body like a piece of gold was alluring, and sensual. Just Din hearing that he felt perfect, was enough to spur the stallion on. Din took that as a cue to speed up, letting his hips snap a bit quicker into you; He wanted to make love, not just have a simple fuck and dual-parenthood. 

"You are going to be the most gorgeous buir that has ever graced the galaxies. The most beautiful riduur that I have the pleasure of conceiving with." You had to admit, hearing Din speak so clearly in Mando'a to you was like floating above the stars and space, seeing the bright sunshine peering out into darkness. Din was filling that blackened void of despair you had come to find a part of yourself. He was fixing you from the inside out, molding you into everything you wanted to me.

"I cannot wait until these fill with milk to feed our child. So pretty, so big. When they hurt, and our babe is full - I will drink to relieve them." If this was anyone but Din stating this, well he would be on the floor in a pile of his own blood. But to hear Din admit this, to admire you while you were at his mercy, was everything you could have wished for and more. To have him fully, like no one else ever will - was special. This was going to be worth it in so many ways - to give Din the child he has always wanted, but to grow the family by two now. "You will be worshipped everyday. Pregnancy will look gorgeous on you. Pushing my seed deep within you, right up until it officially takes." 

Din knew how to put you on cloud nine easily, and effectively - tossing your high up in the air and trying to catch it blindly. every solid thrust the Mandalorian gave you, sent a shockwave of pleasure rippling through your core. You could hear the sopping wet sounds of your cunt clenching around his thick member, aiding in the aggressive thrusts he had you take. This was a moment, something so magical and enticing, that you never wanted to end. A beautiful dream in fact, one made up of equals parts love, lust and acceptance. Two orphans finding themselves within each others bounds, chasing the feeling of want and need. Destiny lined this moment up perfectly for the two of you - making sure that this would be ever lasting.

Tilting your head back, you rested it flat against Din's shoulder - turning to see the facial hair coming in coarse, yet soft. He pressed his cheek to your temple, taking in the scent of lavender and lust on your skin. This only caused Din to speed his hips up at a jarring rate - driving his thick length deep within your wet cavern that you knew, you weren't going to walk straight for the next few days. With turning your face towards his, finally you knew were enveloped in the most loving, passionate and strong kiss anyone has had the pleasure of placing upon you. A gentle mix of every emotion possible flowed through your system. 

Immense pleasure surging from your cunt as Din thrusted faster, mixed with his loving kiss made you melt right against him. To your own surprise, Din proud his free hand down to rub steadily at your clit - loving how you gyrated against him to meet your mark. It was a given now, neither one of you were going to last long at all - your eyes peaking up from behind dimmed lights. Your ears were on constant alert of hearing Din's sensual moans, his raspy pleasure seeping out. In fact, you almost missed the Mando'a he murmured as he trailed his lips down to your neck, suckling sweetly on your moist skin; "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde." What you did not realize, were those were Mandalorian vows - meaning if you stated them back, you would be Din's wife.

The implication of his words caused your stomach to crest; Burning lust in your lower belly exploded as Din stilled his hips. There was rocked silence, only the gentle waves of the bath tub could be heard as you two reached your peaks. Din placed his slightly chapped lips against your ear, whimpering gently as his voice broke. "That's it, take it." Each and every vowel he let out caused your body to seize over and over; Cumming from this man's own language made you feel so much a part of him, as was his seed lining your walls. Each pump of his cock as he slowly rid out both of your highs, caused your cunt to ache. Each stroke of his cum painting your delicate cunt was unmatched to any pleasure you have felt before. Knowing now, you were going to bear his children. "You're so good," was all you could manage to moan out, before slumping back against Din's sweaty body. His hand retreated from your clit, as his hips finally stilled. Din relaxed under you, letting his cock soften within your cunt. Bated breaths mixed with the gentle hum of the fireflies swarming around the room - creating one of the brightest, yet softest moments you two would always remember. 

There would be no going back now, you were going to carry his child. Din brought a wet hand up to caress your cheek, pushing some of your hair behind your ear, catching his breath with yours. "I am going to promise you this; No one. I mean no one, is going to take you, or our child away from me. And I, will never let anyone take me away from you. We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

And just like that, you were now the wife of the Mandalorian, his strong riduur who he would never part with.

11 months ago

A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say. 

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth. 

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door. 

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side. 

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.” 

“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?” 

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving. 

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.” 

Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?” 

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.” 

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.” 

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger. 

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand. 

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous. 

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts. 

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.” 

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.” 

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.” 

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch. 

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat. 

“Mhm. You like them?” 

“Never had one.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?” 

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned. 

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.” 

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.” 

“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle. 

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.” 

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour. 

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives. 

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her. 

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock. 

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!” 

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms. 

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.” 

“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.” 

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.” 

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry. 

“Come here, my handsome little guy.” 

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap. 

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it. 

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again. 

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly. 

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?” 

“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.” 

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry. 

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax. 

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?” 

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists. 

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.” 

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees. 

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.” 

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.” 

“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.” 

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there. 

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.” 

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.” 

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know. 

“Shit, I forgot to check.” 

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.” 

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile. 

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.” 

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.” 

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness. 

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge. 

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go. 

“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.” 

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir. 

“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.” 

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.” 

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn. 

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.” 

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.” 

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.” 

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.” 

Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.” 

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat. 

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.” 

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.” 

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.” 

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out. 

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.” 

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you insist. 

“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.” 

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.” 

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.” 

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!” 

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door. 

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you. 

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.” 

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.” 

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out. 

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet. 

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering. 

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mmm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.” 

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you. 

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.” 

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours. 

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end. 

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.” 

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.” 

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.” 

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.” 

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.” 

And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?” 

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.” 

“I want to finish the movie.” 

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.” 

The credits start, and neither of you move. 

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.” 

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you. 

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes. 

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.” 

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.” 

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” 

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.” 

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.” 

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.” 

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.” 

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down. 

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.” 

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious. 

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.” 

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.” 

“You can think that if you like.” 

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him. 

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing. 

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while. 

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together. 

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says. 

You hum. 

“Unless you mean it’s working.” 

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.  

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” 

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words. 

He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you. 

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.” 

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.” 

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.” 

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you. 

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back. 

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his. 

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?” 

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.” 

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech. 

“Do you want to move to my room?” 

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip. 

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?” 

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?” 

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth. 

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him. 

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this. 

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?” 

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you. 

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it. 

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy. 

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you. 

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him. 

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no. 

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?” 

You swallow. “Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?” 

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward. 

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

“Is this okay?” he murmurs. 

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline. 

“We can stop anytime you want.” 

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.” 

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time. 

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating. 

“Is this okay?” you ask. 

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under. 

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound. 

He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil. 

“Come here,” you plead. 

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.” 

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens. 

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I want to. Do you?” 

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.” 

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces. 

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another. 

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?” 

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?” 

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.” 

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you. 

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?” 

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face. 

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?” 

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.” 

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound. 

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth. 

“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.” 

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat. 

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.” 

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.” 

“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you. 

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all. 

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?” 

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.” 

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway. 

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.” 

“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication. 

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens. 

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice. 

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.” 

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now. 

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.” 

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?” 

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.” 

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?” 

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.” 

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.” 

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee. 

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead. 

“That was really great,” you tell him. 

“I thought so too.” 

“You’ll stay here, right?” 

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.” 

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream. 

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new. 

Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall. 

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you. 

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim. 

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.” 

Mind? Remus can’t even think. 

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?” 

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?” 

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?” 

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?” 

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression. 

“Really?” 

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?” 

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.” 

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.” 

You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better. 

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.” 

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.” 

They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs. 

With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face. 

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?” 

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.” 

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.” 

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time. 

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again. 

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.” 

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.” 

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?” 

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?” 

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.” 

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back. 

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference. 

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours? 

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you. 

So much for opposites attract. 

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face. 

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving. 

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?” 

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?” 

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.” 

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.” 

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness. 

“Would you come here?” he asks. 

You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now. 

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.” 

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?” 

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.” 

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.” 

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles. 

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.” 

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor. 

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.” 

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.” 

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly. 

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.” 

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.” 

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.” 

1 year ago

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

ᴀ/ɴ: I am already back with a new fic for Sam. I am in a groupchat with some amazing people and I decided to write some ideas out that were thrown around. I hope you enjoy! Maybe I will do Alex or Elliott next... Anyway, thank you so much for your time! ✧

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sam (SDV) x Reader (afab)

ᴡᴄ: 3884 words.

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: alcohol consumption, drunk sex, doggy style, cursing, unportected sex, drooling, exhibitionism, public setting, teasing, creampie, hornyness all around.

☾ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☽

Sam’s mouth was watering, and the sole reason for it was you. Sam had fallen in love with you the moment you had stepped foot into Pelican Town yet had never managed to utter a single word about it. But now, the blonde was absolutely hammered, and that allowed him to shamelessly stare at you. Pupils blown, chest heaving and falling quickly, his eyes were focused on your ass while you were bent over the pool table, focused on your next shot in your game with Sebastian. The only thing that kept him from dropping on his knees and begging to be allowed to suck on those slender fingers wrapping around the cue was the fact that he still wasn’t sure if you liked him back.

When you wiggled your butt a little, a small groan passed his lips. It was desperate, and rough, making the attention of the room fall on him. “Are you okay, Sam?” You asked, worry in your voice. “Yeah…yeah…Yeah, ‘m fine… just gonn…you need help, dontcha? Winnin’ against Seb, I mean,” he slurred, pushing himself up on his legs, steadying himself using the pool table. Sebastian cocked his pierced brow; Sam sucked at pool when he wasn’t drunk, and now he was absolutely shitfaced. What help could he be?

Sam placed himself right behind you, pressing his crotch against you a bit, hoping – no, praying – that you didn’t catch on that he only did that to feel you against his growing buldge.

Though you were a smart girl. The feeling of his erection didn’t go unnoticed, but you kept up your pokerface. “I guess I could use a little help,” you murmured, voice coated in innocence. You leaned forward, smiling up at the oblivious Sebastian. “Sorry, I told you I haven’t played in ages,” you explained, directing the black-haired man’s attention back to the game. He shrugged nonchalantly, waving off your comment and watching you adjust the cue, but Sam had seemingly become hyper focused. He leaned over you, shaking hand gripping your wrist. He was so close, so close to you. He could smell you and feel you. If his mouth was watering before, now it was drooling. He had dreamed of this so often, having you bent over under him, and now he had, and you didn’t even notice his ulterior motives.

A thought that was disproved when he felt it. You pressed your ass against him, circling your hips just ever so slightly to cause friction. An accident? Sam didn’t care. The whine that slipped couldn’t be caught anymore; the despair obvious. The need to beg for you to at least let him feel you for one night, even just a single hour, maybe just put the tip in you if that was all you wanted to give, hanging onto his tongue by a thread. The only thing that kept him from speaking was a pair of attentive eyes that were placed on him.

„Ugh, drunk like that? It’s best he sleeps on the couch here, Jodi’s gonna flip otherwise… and I doubt I can drag his drunk ass up the mountain.”

“‘S…’s a bad position,“ Sam slurred in a weak attempt to explain himself, but he didn’t even really care. He cared about you, boxed in-between his wobbly arms. He could lean down, kiss your neck, suck on it. Leave his wet marks all over you – and who would stop him? “He’s right,” you mused, shifting yet again. This time you rubbed your ass from side to side as if to figure out how to stand, making sure to add pressure against his dick. Sam was creaming in his pants by now, his knees wobbling as he lowered his head. He licked his lips, hot breath hitting your neck.  The goosebumps that appeared made him want to drool all over you, but still, he cleared his throat and guided you into a sloppy shot. Trying to stay strong, not to make it too obvious. But fuck, your gentle grinding into his cock, the way you pressed into him – he swore his cock was about to burst right then and there for you, and if you kept it up, he’d cum in his pants in the saloon.

“Damn, Sam. You wanted to help her win, not make her lose. Maybe you should step back,” Sebastian grunted, an obvious edge to his voice, yet he would have never expected his best friend to actually growl at him in return. That was the only way the sound that radiated through the blonde’s chest could be described; it was deep and rough, almost threatening. Possessive, even.

While it shocked the other man, it sent a shock straight through your whole body. It was enough for you to put your cue away and stand up straight, giving Sebastian a small smile. “I think it’s time we get Sammy boy here to sleep.”

Perfect.

“I’ll take him to the farm, then. Until our ways part we are about halfway there, you can help me drag him.”

Sebastian sighed dramatically, but put the cue away, which probably signalled his agreement, or at least you decided to take it as such.

Both of you draped one of Sam’s arms over your shoulders and made the strenuous way up to your farm, Sebastian stubbornly staring ahead, while Sam was slumped between you. His cheeks were red, but the way you looked at him made him wheeze. The look that he gave you, so lustful and horny, eyes drowning in need, made your legs buckle every now and then, straining a grunt from Sebastian that now had to basically drag two whenever you did. “You sure you want him on your farm? I can stay over-“

“No,“ you interrupted, flashing him a quick, reassuring smile. “You’ve got to work with Robin tomorrow, and she will freak out if you’re not there. Besides, I have a guard dog, and if this fella acts up, he’ll be sent to the doghouse.”

Sebastian smiled a little and nodded, the thought of Sam sleeping in a small hut clearly bemusing him. Smacking his friend on the back, which almost sent the poor boy tumbling over, Sebastian turned. „Behave, you hear? Or I gotta whoop your ass.” With that and a wave, he began to make his way home.

Silence.

“So…,” you began when Sebastian’s silhouette had blended into the deep night, looking at the blonde hanging onto your shoulder. “What was all that about?”

“All…hicc… what about?”

“In the bar. You drooled on my neck.”  

Sam giggled at that, tilting his head back as his laugh became deeper. “Yea…that-…that probably was ‚cause I really fuckin‘ love you…an‘…an‘ cum in my fist every night thinkin‘ of fuckin…fucking you.”

If that wasn’t drunken honesty, you didn’t know what else would be. “But  I didn’t know hoooow to tell youuuu. So, don’t tell on me, m’kay? Don’t want ya to..hate me, ya know.”

Chuckling quietly, you pushed a strand of hair out of his, face, dragging your lower lip between your teeth. “You know who you’re talking to, right”

“Mh..course. My little farmer princess.”

“And you know what I did to you in the bar?”

“Mhhhhm. Was so close to cummin‘. Still…still am.”

“Do you know what could mean, Sam?”

“That… you suck even more at pool than me?”

You snorted, head tipping back as you laughed. Yoba, he wanted to lick down your throat, down your body, devour your cunt. He wanted to taste you so, so bad. He could have bet that you had the prettiest pussy he would ever lay eyes on, and he would make sure to worship it. With slow licks, the fast ones, by spelling his name on your clit and with your legs over his shoulder so he could get into as much contact as possible.

“No, Sam. I’m into you. I have been for a while. Didn’t you ever notice me flirting? Not even when I told you you should show me what else those fingers can do than play guitar.”

You could literally see the corks in Sam’s head reeling, trying to connect the dots of the information that had just been relied to him. “So…ya…like me back?”

You rolled your eyes, deciding that in this state, only actions seemed to count for Sam. Words took too long to process. You leaned down to kiss the man deeply - an opportunity he leaped at. His tongue immediately dragged over your lips, coating them with the taste of alcohol. The moan that left you was to his advantage, he shoved his tongue into your mouth clumsily, letting it run over yours, licking at it as if he was starving. His hands had found your body for support to stop himself from swaying back and forth. “Need ya…need ya so bad. This kay?“ He slurred against your mouth, pretty blue eyes staring at you, begging you without words.

You bit your lip and tried to steady Sam again, “Come on, let’s get to the farm, we can…we can-„ Sam’s mouth hit yours again, his teeth sinking into your lips gently. You moaned again, tugging at his hair, but your surroundings made you pull away and tug at him him. “Let’s get to the farm, I need you,” you ordered, setting a rather fast pace for drunken Sam.

He whined, begged and pleaded, but in the end, he strolled with you, legs buckling and wobbling, and the lack of blood in his brain seemed to make the short path to your house even longer. The fabric of his clothes rubbed against his buldge so uncomfortably, and the way your hips swayed when you walked brought him close to tears. He wanted you. He had wanted you for so long, he couldn’t wait any longer.

The moment you reached the bus stop, Sam dropped to his knees, almost making you fall over due to the sudden weight shift. “Sam! What are you doing?”

“Fuck…fuck, please. ‘M beggin’ you. ‘M so fuckin’ hard…it hurts so bad…shit, you look so pretty for me,” he gasped, rutting against his hand that he had rested in his lap. The moonlight hit you so perfectly…you looked so amazing. Amazing enough for him to throw his head back, now gripping his length through his clothes. “Pretty please,“ he added, helplessly looking up at you. You bit your lower lip again, your own knees growing weak. You could feel the wetness pool between your legs, and it was hard for you to not just let him have his way with you.

“But what if anyone is gonna see us? We can’t risk being caught. It’s not that far anymore…”

“No! No one will see us!” Sam cried, “I promise…promise I’ll be quick. I’ll be quiet. Anythin‘, princess. Pretty please. I beg you. Please. I’ll be good. Just…please.”

You seriously doubted the value of a completely horny, drunk and in love person’s opinion, but before you knew it, you found yourself on your knees, kissing Sam sloppily.

The blonde immediately pounced on you, pressing his crotch into yours, his hands seemingly everywhere. “So pretty,” he panted against you, kissing down your jaw, down your neck, and then he already lapped at your throat. You seemingly felt him everywhere at once, making you moan out lowly.  That only urged Sam on more. He wanted more. He wanted to hear you, smell you, taste you, feel you. He wanted you. No, he needed you.

“You know how often I’ve dreamed of fucking you?”

It was just a murmur against your neck on which he greedily sucked. “How often I’ve dreamed of holdin‘ you in my arms? Pretty baby, makin‘ you all mine.”

Sam had seemingly sobered up a little but that didn’t help much – he was was already intoxicated by you again.

He tugged at your pants and at his at the same time, trying to get them both off at the same time, causing you to laugh out breathlessly. He gave up his attempt and back, licking over his lips.

“Need you so bad,” he repeated while he unbuckled his belt, struggling out of his pants.

You licked your lips and opened the button to your pants much slower, pushing them down your long legs centimetre by centimetre. Blue eyes were glued on you; Sam’s mouth hung open as he watched you, tongue hanging out just slightly. He was pretty sure you could see his dick throb against his already wet boxers, but fuck, who cared? He sure didn’t. The hunger in his eyes made you shiver, no man had ever looked at you like he did, and you were sure he was already fucking you in his head.

“The panties,” he stammered, making you grin to yourself. “The panties. Please, princess. Take them off. You’re so wet already, fuck, please, I- am pretty sure I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

“You mean these?” You teased, gripping at the waistband and letting it snap against your hips. The blonde groaned, the force of the sheer lust hitting him almost making him drop forward again.

“You want them off?”

He nodded, eyes yet again filled with tears. “Yoba, please, yes…need…need to see your pussy.”

“Then take them off.”

Sam was incredibly quick to move, much quicker than you had deemed in the range of possibility, he did have a lot of drinks, but he was on top of you the moment you gave the go. He pushed your shirt upwards and messily pulled your breasts from your bra, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. He trailed his tongue around it, before switching sides, his hand trailing towards your panties already. He let his finger glide along your slit over the fabric, growl escaping him upon feeling your wet spot. “All that teasing gotcha wet, huh?” He hissed, biting your nipple gently before he slowly licked down your cleavage, staying in-between your breasts for a moment longer, just inhaling deeply and leaving his love bites. You smelled so good, so sweet; it was hard to not get lost in his in his need. However, after a moment he picked up his journey again and licked down your stomach, until he finally reached the hem of your panties.

The night air began to fill with moans that tumbled out of your mouth, the eagerness you were treated with leaving your cunt pulsing. By now you felt a need similar to Sam’s, making you pretty sure you needed him all over you to ever think properly again, even though right now, you were far from it. He let his fingers run up to your exposed chest, gripping your nipples between pointer finger and thumb and rolling them gently. “Lift your butt,” he ordered, almost smiling to himself when you did. He gripped the lace of your panties with his teeth, slowly tugging them down. You shuddered when the cold night air hit your hot wetness, and Sam moaned lowly upon seeing your cunt.“ Look how beautiful. Such a sweet little cunt…all for me, isn’t it? All for my cock and me,” he rambled, having to sit back on his heels for a moment. The beauty of your almost naked body had him dangerously close to the edge, and he would have forever hated himself if his own dick cockblocked him right now.

“Sam-“

“Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty baby.”

You sucked in air through your teeth, eyes dragging down his body. He was hard as a rock, and you were sure his boxers were about to rip, so you slowly settled on your hands and knees. Maybe it was also because you just needed to be absolutely stuffed with cock.

You tried to wait patiently, even though your own need made that incredibly hard, but you couldn’t risk getting Sam distracted. His gaze seemed to burn holes into your back, making you shift around on your knees. Then you finally heard shifting and the gentle sound of skin smacking against skin.

“You are so ready for me, baby,” he murmured, his fingers spreading your drooling lips slowly. One of them pushed inside of you, low groan falling from his lips. He curled his finger and then thrusted it knuckle-deep, breathing in sharply upon feeling you basically pulling him in. You were so wet and warm… and he could finally get his dick into you. He couldn’t take it anymore. He was about to be ripped apart by the feelings tumbling around inside of him, and you were the only thing on this whole planet that would ease this ache he had for you.

You felt his finger leave you and whined, wiggling your ass in the air. Much to your surprise, a hand came down on your butt, forcing you to yelp out Sam’s name. “Teasin‘ me all night already,” he slurred, pressing his tip against your soaked hole. “And it worked…”

With that, he slowly pushed himself inside of you and the world seemed to disappear.

All he could hear was static, and the sound of his own heartbeat, mixing with your moans. He was pretty sure the world could explode and he wouldn’t have blinked an eye. All he could think about was how good you felt; despite only having the tip in, you sucked him in deeper already.

“This okay?”

You nodded eagerly, pushing back against his dick in a desperate attempt to get more. Yoba, you needed more. This time it was you that wanted to cry and beg for him, but Sam seemed to pick up your silent prayers.

His hips shoved forward eagerly; it seemed like your walls were made for his cock. You fit so snuck around him, cunt welcoming him with a wet sound. The two of you moaned and you had to rest your head on your arms to keep at least your butt up in the air for Sam, the promise of being quite long forgotten. Centimetre by centimetre Sam pushed inside of you, making sure to take his time, to really split you in two for him and only him. One of his hands was resting firmly on your hip, the other cupping one of your breasts. When he was balls deep inside of you, he abruptly stopped, his penis twitching violently inside of you. For a moment, you weren’t sure if he had just had his orgasm, and when you turned around you could see his eyes watering. You were about to ask, yet the thought was immediately cut off when Sam pulled back and rammed back into you.

Suddenly you could feel the weight of his upper body on your own as he angled himself to get better access to your sweet cunt.

“Mine, all mine,” Sam panted into your ear as he began to pick up a fast pace, humping you like an animal in heat. The sound of his balls smacking against your wet pussy and the way his pelvic bone hit your bare ass created sounds lewd enough for anyone within a kilometre to know what was happening. Neither of you cared.

You were a moaning mess beneath the blonde, and he was whimpering, close to sobbing your name. Sam sucked on your neck to mark you up, keep you away from dirty, greedy eyes such as his own, his cock bullying into you at a fast pace; your walls sucking him off so well. His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he felt you clench around him as he began to gently circle your clit.

“Like that, huh? Like when…I do this?” He snarled, licking his lips and kissing down your spine; a task that was rather hard given that his hard thrusts made your whole body shake.

“Sam!” You sobbed, trying to meet his thrusts desperately as if you just couldn’t get enough, and Sam was happy to deliver. He pressed you into his body and fucked into you as if his life depended on it, tongue hanging out and droplets of saliva falling on your back.

You swore you could see little fairies dance around you when Sam hit your sweet spot, this combined with his relentless spelling of his name on your clit made you approach the edge with fast steps.

Sam wasn’t much better – he was staring at his thick perverted cock vanishing into your pussy, spreading open your sweet little hole with each thrust. He loved to see how he forced wetness out of you with each thrust, and he swore to himself he’d make you cream.

“Sam, fuck, Sam! I’m gonna cu-cum!” You cried, the thought of if you could maybe wake someone with your needy cries for dick crossed your mind, but it quickly turned into arousal. You would love for people to hear how well Sam was fucking you, how mean he was to your cunt, snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, accompanied by the sound of his skin smacking against your reddened ass that by now was sporting a red handprint. 

“Gonna cum, Sam, gonna cum!” You slurred, feeling his wet tongue trace patterns down the side of your neck again. White light flashed in front of your eyes, your toes curled up as you felt your face growing numb.

What the two of you didn’t notice was the text from Sebastian’s number that made the screens of your phones light up. Nice show. Make it less obvious that you want to fuck next time or send me videos so I can rewatch.

Sam’s whimpers and small groans had turned into dragged out whines, adoring how you let him fuck you out here near the bus stop. He wanted people to hear you. Show them you were his and his alone. He would have loved for each of the guys to see him ruining you, so they’d keep their hands off. Seeing how his cock vanished inside of you with each thrust, how his precum and your juices were mixing together, dribbling down his shaft. The thought of them seeing you sprawled out and crying for him and the feeling of you drooling all over his throbbing dick, begging for more was enough to push him over the edge.

His body tensed up, a cry of sheer pleasure was being bellowed into the night as his orgasm washed over him, his cock pressed deep inside of you. The feeling of his cum inside of you was too much. You sobbed his name, fingers wrapping around strands of grass as your body convulsed, the numbness that caught up to you soothing as you clenched around your lover’s dick, making it hard for Sam to move. The blonde gritted his teeth, his thrusts slowly slowing down as he hung his head; his breathing hard and laboured

You were lying beneath him, panting as well as your hand slowly searched for his. Upon finding it, you intertwined your fingers, and for a moment you two just sat there, Sam’s dick still buried inside of you, your hands interlocked.

“Round two when we reach the farm?” You whispered after a while, despite having his cum drip out of you as he pulled back slowly, making Sam smile like a lovesick puppy.

“Round two when we reach the farm.”

4 years ago
Kiki's Delivery Service Latte! ✨

Kiki's Delivery Service Latte! ✨

This is my fav ghibli film!

2 years ago
𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛!
𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛!

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛!

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson feels terrible that a sweet girl like you has such a terrible boyfriend. it'd be a real shame if he couldn't help you out.

fic warnings (mdni 18+): reader is over 18, smut, cheating, blow jobs, eddie eating the shit out of you, fingering, teasing, heavy make-outs, mentions of weed/smoking weed, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, eddie being a little bit possessive, corruption kink if you squint

𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐦𝐛!

Covered with ink, the smell of weed lingering in his hair, the Hellfire Club enthusiast could only leave so much to the mind's imagination. He liked to keep true to his name, to let people think their scandalous thoughts about him as he walked by, never asking because that would mean they were communicating with the sinner himself. 

But Eddie Munson, alongside other things, was a fun person to hang around. He didn’t give a flying shit if the old ladies he passed by wrinkled their noses at his hair, or if people liked to gossip whether or not he made a deal with the devil. He was easy to talk to, comforting at times, and even caring if he truly tried hard. 

With that, there were other things that only you could see. The little laugh he let out when you opened up your front door to him, shushing him as the two of you tiptoed to your room. Or the way he pressed a little kiss to your cheek before leaving out the back, waving farewell to you from your window as you suppressed the giddy smile that made its way to your face. 

And it would be fine, really. Eddie could probably stay the night over, (maybe hide in your bathroom if your parents came up the stairs), but you two knew you could get away with it. And you could even stay over at his trailer if you wanted to, but both you and Eddie knew that there was one thing keeping you from spending the night tucked away in his arms. 

It’s just that your boyfriend just wasn’t a big fan of Eddie Munson.

But you think that’s what spurs Eddie on even more. 

Of being the sole person that everybody despises, of being able to defile you whenever he wants. Of being just too loud to raise suspicion, to have him look just around the corner and into your room to see you getting ruined by Eddie “the freak” Munson. 

Sometimes Eddie likes to play with fire, to challenge the devil as he leaves dark marks just high enough on your chest and neck so that most of your clothing could just barely cover it, and most times you’d resort to having to conceal it with makeup. 

Other times he’d like to write his name on the inside of your thigh, knowing that your pure and angelic boyfriend wouldn’t go looking down there anytime soon, but the thrill of your skirt being blown up by the spring winds and revealing the sinister acts that lay upon your supple skin.

But what Eddie finds funny about the whole thing is that most of the time, you don’t even try to hide it. Your hickies are almost always peeking through the layer of makeup or your clothing as if you wanted people to see them. Or how you wore the shortest skirt you could possibly find in hopes of having it scrunch up by accident, leaving people wandering eyes to zero in on the black marker lining your thighs. 

Something Eddie noticed about you was that you were a lot more sinister than you let on. Sure you went to school every day, acting as if you enjoyed it. And made the teachers happy with your grades and preppy attitude, but you were honestly a little minx that Eddie had never expected. 

Last week, for example, Eddie almost choked on the water he was drinking when you strolled into the cafeteria, not looking his way, caught up in something that your boyfriend was saying as you gave him a fake little laugh. But Eddie could see how you peeked over at his table, a sly grin on your lips as you went to rub your neck, his rings littering your finger as his eyes widened ever so slightly. Even worse was that you were wearing his shirt, the one he left at your house over the weekend. All while your boyfriend had his arm wrapped around your waist, holding you protectively to his chest as if you were his girl.

So when he came by later that day, knocking on the door, twice, letting you know it was him as you ran past your parents to open it, you cracked it open to see him leaning on the frame, his hands behind his back, a sneaky smile on his face as you shielded him from your parents view. 

“Eddie!” You hissed, watching him gleam at your annoyance at his lack of caution.

“What? Wanted to surprise you,” He whispers with a pout, eyes racking over your form as he lets out a low whistle, “Prettiest girl in the whole damn world.” And he knows exactly what to say to make you forget why you were mad at him. 

It had been days without you two seeing each other like this, being so close that you could see his doe eyes watching you carefully, hoping that he wasn’t crossing the line showing up like this. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t. Because as lonely as he was without you, you could barely function properly these days spent without having him by your side.

You watch as he pulls out his hands and shows you a little bag, “Someone was selling these while I was driving by and thought you’d want some.” And your frown can’t stay there for long as he motions for you to pick a cherry, ripe as it was just the perfect time of year for them. You bashfully grin, obliging him as you grab the ruby-colored fruit, popping it in your mouth as he gave you a little wink.

You had no idea how he could remember the little things you told him alongside all the other things happening in his life. But he’d do little thighs like this; bring you food when you called him late at night, tapping on your window to let him in, remembering the little things you liked and bringing them up late in conversation. It just made you fall even more in love with him, and it was painful that at the end of the day none of it would matter.

“Y/n? Who is it?” You heard your mom call out, worried about your quick behavior change, peeking over to see who it was but you slammed the door shut. You quickly swallowed, spitting out the seed into your hand as you waved her worry off.

“It’s Chrissy! She wants to study for our test!” You paused, “Can I go with her?” And you knew your mother wouldn’t ever say no to you hanging out with Chrissy Cunnigham.

“Of course! Tell Laura I said hello!” And that’s all you needed as you said your haste goodbyes, sprinting out the door as you were stopped by long arms, his signature smell wafting around you as you giggled against his chest. 

He held out the bag of cherries again, his eyes softening as you took another, nudging him with your shoulder as you smiled down into the ground.

“Trying to butter me up, Munson? I’m not going to suck you off while you drive, it’s a safety hazard.” You tell him with a raised brow as you chew, your lips tinting red.

“You know me so well Y/n,” He shakes his head, grinning to himself as he lets out a laugh, “But no, not today, pretty. Just thought you’d like it,” You roll your eyes, reaching for another one as you walk with Eddie to his van.

You were close enough to him that his hair tickled your nose, and his skin was hot as yours was he opened the car door for you with an exaggerated movement, causing you to laugh at his chivalry as he gave you a playful wink.

“Ladies first, sweetheart.” And you let go of his hand, letting him shut the door for you as he rounded the car, climbing in the driver's seat as the van roared to life. He placed the little bag of cherries in the middle, opening it towards you as you softened up at his little gesture. 

You drummed your fingers on your thigh, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes as he caught your stare, giving you a sloppy kiss on your cheek as you laughed, unable to control yourself around him.

“My rings, huh?” He asked as he turned the corner, glancing at your fingers that were still littered with his jewelry, a sort of brand he had on you that even your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend couldn’t ever achieve, “Little bit risqué don’t you think?”

“Thought you’d like it.” You answer coyly, reaching for his hand as you played with his fingers, tracing his palm as he let you, his cheeks dusted in light pink as he tore his eyes away from the road for a second to see you mindlessly toying with the skin of his arm. 

“Yeah, more than liked it,” He grumbled as he remembered you fidgeting with his rings that day, tugging at the collar of his shirt as you sneakily put his little love bites on display, “Almost ran over there and fucked you on the table.” 

Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, but it didn’t stop you from tugging at his fingers playfully. 

“Everybody would have rioted,” You joke as you put his hand back down to his lap, not missing the sound he made at the back of his throat, the one that told you he didn’t want you to stop as you grinned, “Think my boyfriend would drop from a seizure.” 

You pause, your lips pursing as silence floods between the two of you. You knew how he felt about your boyfriend, even though he never outwardly said it. Though glances shared in between periods, walking down the hall with you in his arms and the glares Eddie would shoot him didn’t leave much room for questioning. 

“Want a cherry?” You ask, trying to break the tense air as you plucked one from the bag, twisting off the stem as you held it up for him. 

He leaned to your side, eyes never leaving the road as he opened his mouth, letting you drop it on his tongue as he heard you let out a chuckle, rubbing his hand on the gearshift as he warmed up under your touch. 

“Still think apples are better but … not bad,” He murmured, spitting out the seed into his hand, “Better not be though ‘cause that shit cost me a fucking arm and a leg. Roadside vendors just rob you blind.” 

You click your tongue against your teeth, your smile dropping at his words. 

“Eddie…” You say with a sigh, pulling out another cherry as you held it up to his mouth, his brows furrowing as he shrugged at your tone. 

“What?” He opened his mouth for another and you obliged, “My girl likes cherries, so I bought her some cherries.” Your heart almost stopped as he spoke, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention to his words, nudging your elbow with his as he silently asked for another cherry. 

My girl. 

This whole arrangement was supposed to be a one-time thing. Your boyfriend refused to touch you, saying that he’d wait until the two of you were married. He’d go as far as a peck against your lips, but your hormones were raging and you doubted his little kiss was going to cut it for you.

Ever since you saw him, you knew that in some way or another Eddie Munson was going to be your savior. At first, you only talked when you wanted an escape, and he seemed to always have it ready in that little bin he carried around. 

Smoking with him at first was unusual, seeing how you normally did it in the confines of the forest, hidden away from the naked eye. But you slowly warmed up to him, your mind betraying you as you began to realize that the so-called “freak” of the school was probably the sanest one out there. 

Since then, lingering touches turned into experimental kisses, kisses turned into long hours spent in his trailer, and soon Eddie was fucking you on every surface he could find. Ranging from the back of his van, his bed, your bed, and the woods behind the school. And at first, you felt guilty, you did, but you couldn’t feel that way for long when Eddie made you feel the way you did. 

You told him that it would never happen again, that this was a mistake and you should have never played into lust's temptation, but Eddie Munson managed to reel you back, and after a while, it seemed like you truly longed for his touch. 

And the worst part is, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this way about anybody before. 

Not even your boyfriend, who seemed intent on sharing a future with you. You can’t recall the last time somebody had made you laugh as much as Eddie had, or held you close to his chest as if you mattered. He liked to talk about things, never focusing on just himself when he told stories. 

You knew that you had said it was only beneficiary, nothing else, no feeling attached. But glancing over at Eddie as he drove, his head somewhere else as he hummed a tune to a song he had heard on the radio, you felt yourself wanting to break your own rules.

So instead of dwelling on your warping feeling, the mind-numbing hope that maybe Eddie felt the same way you do, you opted to do something else. You looked out the window, staring at the flashing trees and the road as you saw the familiar sign that welcomed you into the trailer park, and he could see how you almost perked in your seat as he slowed down the van as he pulled up into his trailer. 

“Home sweet home,” He muttered, leaning across from you as he dragged your door open, the action making you let out a playful giggle as you lightly pushed his shoulder, kissing his mess of hair as you hopped out. 

Eddie raced you to the door, opening it for you as you gave him a little curtsy, earning a hearty chuckle from his end as he followed you inside, thankful that his uncle was away at the plant because he didn’t want him around for what would be following. 

You had become familiar with the flower-printed walls of the trailer, the scent of his recently smoked blunt lingering in the air. The bra you had forgotten here last week was probably somewhere hidden under his bed and you kept kicking yourself for forgetting to bring it with you whenever you come over.

“So…” You clap your hands together, turning around to find Eddie already getting his boots off, shrugging off his leather coat as he placed it on the nook on the wall, “Do you want to- mph,” Before you could finish the question you felt your back being pushed roughly against the counter, quick fingers kneading at the skin of your hips as his nose nudged against yours. 

“Needy much?” You ask, your sarcastic nature peeking through as Eddie groaned, rolling his eyes as his hands eagerly moved across your body. He could barely think straight after everything you had put him through, much less try to be patient. 

“If I parade around in that black shirt you like so much all day, you tell me how needy you are.” He lamented, biting at your neck as your eyes widened, hands trailing up his back as they found purchase tugging at his hair. 

He was right. You’d jump him when you had the chance. 

“I just…” Your voice caught in the back of your throat when his lips pressed against the skin of your jaw, hot as they pressed little kisses along your skin, “I just thought it’d be a good idea.” You whimper slightly when Eddie presses you deeper into the counter, the wood digging into your back as he pushes more of his weight onto you. 

“Yeah?” You could feel his breath against your cheek, heat flaming upwards as you looked up into his eyes, “That was your definition of a good idea?” 

And honestly, you would have answered him back had he not leaned back down, his lips pressing feverishly against yours as you let out a surprised squeal. He was rough, your teeth clashing with one another as he tried to put his emotions into his actions, his hands coming up as they cradled the back of your neck, thumbs resting alongside your face as he tilted your head upwards. 

He kissed you in that particular way you liked, the one that he knew made you go crazy. With his tongue swiping against yours, toying with you as he barely let you get a breather. He could still taste the cherries he had bought for you, making him moan into the kiss as you tugged at his roots. You were wearing that lipgloss he liked so much, too, which just seemed to make him go feral. 

“Taste like fuckin heaven,” He teased as he pulled away, his soft eyes looking at your dazed ones as you shot him a lazy smile. His thumb rubbed at the corner of your mouth, trying to clean it off the smeared gloss. He stared at your swollen lips, at the way you followed his every move and his thumb slipped through the corner of your lips. 

He went to pull away, his movements too slow and you too fast as your tongue swirled around it, never breaking eye contact with him as he whimpered, pressing his finger tight against the roof of your tongue, hearing your sweet little sounds following shortly after. He gently pulled your jaw down, your compliance making it easy for him to move you to his command. Seeing how the spit was pooling around his finger, he could feel his pants getting tighter at the sight. 

“Shit,” He muttered, “You don’t h-have to…fuck,” Eddie could barely think as you let go of his thumb with a pop, his cock straining as your hands pawed at the zipper, your eyes wide, silently asking him if it was okay. He wanted to laugh if he could; as if he’d ever say no. 

He nodded, his lips slightly shaking as he watched you fall to your knees, slow in your actions as you played with him a bit. You knew he liked it when you looked up, his pupils blown wide when your nose nudged at the bulge, a twinkling look in your eyes, knowing he was going to be wrecked in a couple of seconds.

He saw your hands moving gracefully, tugging at the zipper, undoing the buttons of his jeans, gingerly taking off his belt as his pants quickly pooled around his legs. 

You could see the contour of his dick against his boxers, the little beads of precum that stained the fabric. You grinned, fingers moving as they softly traced the outline, hearing his shuddering breaths as you squeezed the tip. 

“Y-you're killin’ me up here sweetheart.” He muttered, a shaky sigh escaping his lips as he tried to smile.

“Be patient Eddie,” You giggled, pressing a little kiss to the precum forming, the salty taste familiar as you went to tug his briefs down. You watched as his dick sprang free, slapping you on the cheek as you let out a little moan, the size of him never fails to surprise you, “You’re so big  - fuck Eddie.” He whines at your words, at the way your nails drag up and down the long vein that wrapped around his cock.

Eddie can’t wait anymore with your teasing, waiting days to do this as he grasps the back of your head, jutting his hips forward so that his dick pushes past your lips, a little groan escaping your throat as he keeps pushing himself deeper into your open mouth. 

“Jesus fucking Christ - shit - just,” He shut his eyes for a second, trying to compose himself, “Just like that. You’re so… so good at this - shit,” He began moving after letting you get adjusted, your nose hitting his pelvis as it brushed against his little tufts of hair. You let him guide your head, let him set the pace as he let out the sweet little moans you cherished so much, “What would your boyfriend say if he knew - fuck - that his girlfriend was such a slut for my cock?” And even though you don’t answer, he knew how his words affected you.

When this whole thing started, he tried to be as gentle and caring as possible. You told him all about how your boyfriend would neglect you, leaving you to fend for yourself, and that you were shy and genuinely had no idea what you were doing. 

So he’d coax you through it, tell you had to suck him off as you obediently listened to his every instruction. But now, after months of bending you to his will, Eddie couldn’t control himself when he was around you anymore.

“No one’s as good as you,” He stopped momentarily, shuddering as your tongue ran up and down his length, “Fuck, you take me so well…” And you did because Eddie taught you how. You hoped that after months of letting him fuck your throat you had picked up something, tricks that you knew made him go crazy. 

And you could feel him shaking, his grips on your head weakening as his fingers tugged at your roots. He was getting close, but before you could feel him release down your throat he pulled away, your brows furrowing in confusion as you looked up at him. 

“Thanks, sweetheart, but,” He murmured, his thumb rubbing at your lips, smiling as he went to collect a mixture of his pre and your spit, bringing it up to his mouth as he watched you clench your thighs at the sight, “Wanna finish with you tonight.” 

Your chest was heaving, but you smiled, shakily standing up, feeling the sting of the carpet on your knees as you winced a little. Eddie cooed at your reaction, rubbing at your neck as he pressed a kiss to your lips, guiding you towards the direction of his bedroom as you followed him silently. 

The familiar walls and smell of his room made you smile, a comfort you had been reaching out for in the last couple of weeks seeing that Eddie was busier with his campaign. Before you could look around too much he followed in, hands on your waist as he closed the door behind the two of you.

He didn’t want to waste any time as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his hands cradling your head so that it wouldn’t thump too harshly against the springs like it did last time and he smiled against your chin, almost forgetting where he was as you nudged his hips. He motioned for you to crawl on his lap, and you obliged, settling yourself so that you rubbed against his hardon, earning a little gasp whenever you tried to adjust yourself on his thighs.

“You are so gonna be the death of me.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing, Munson.” He laughs, the sound vibrating against your chest as he plays with the little necklace you had worn, staring up at you as you carded your finger through his chocolate curls. He stares deeply, not wanting to ever forget that he has Hawkins High's golden girl straddling his lap, looking at him like he exists. It drives him insane and riddles his mind every night about how you could possibly come back to him whenever you do.

“So pretty…” He murmured, sucking at your neck as you shuffled around in his iron grip, your eyes squeezed shut as he moved to your collarbone, “You’re always so pretty.” He hopes you know he’s not just saying it to make you like him more because the way you look right now could make him lift the world if he really wanted to. 

Your nose wrinkles and his heart drops, worried that he did something wrong, that his room smells too much for you, but your brows furrow in that cute way, your tongue poking out as you try to think of what was different. 

“Is that a new shampoo?” You tug his head closer to your nose, your attitude different from the one you had seconds ago as he chuckles, his chest vibrating against yours as he nods in your hands as he lets out a sigh of relief. 

“Mhm,” He kissed your collarbone as you were busy sniffing his hair, “It’s that one I kept telling you about, remember?” 

You nod, hoping that he knows you remember almost everything about him. How you want to remember because you couldn’t ever forget the little snippets of his life he tells you about. You know how he likes his eggs, where he places each ring (because he has a system - he’s not an animal), and how every nook and cranny of his room is decorated with memorabilia he collected over the years.

“Of course I do, that green one, right?” You mutter, and he nods as you kiss the crown of his head, “It smells really good.” He beamed, rubbing at your back as his hands slipped up your shirt. 

You felt him tug at the hem of your shirt, a little sign you had picked up on over the months as you helped him as you lifted your arms, your shirt quickly coming off as he never left your tits and the lacey bra you were wearing. 

He swallowed dryly, the sound audible as you raised a brow at his reaction, your lips tugging up into a little grin as his hands moved up your back to find the clasps. When he finally got it after seconds of playing with it he was quick as he tugged the straps down your arm, tossing the bra to the side, surely another one lost to the many you had left in his room.

“You’re acting like you’re in middle school Eddie,” You tell him with a chuckle, poking his sides as he glances at you, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” And he shakes his head, his fingers playing with your nipples as your eyes flutter shut at the sensation. His rings drag against your skin, the temperature difference causing goosebumps to follow in their wake as your thighs clench at the feeling. 

“Shut up,” He murmurs, flushing pink as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth. He rubs at the other one, not leaving it unattended as you, and you heat up in embarrassment as he flashes you a smirk, cupping them in his palms as he gives both of them a gentle kiss, “Let me have my moment.”

You groan, covering your face in your hands as he laughs against your soft skin, taking this opportunity to trail his fingers downwards, pulling at your shorts as he slowly rubs against your clothed mound. 

“E-Eddie!” You squeal, squirming as he simply smiles, his thumb moving around to find your clit, your mouth falling slack as he continues to rub against it, the friction of the fabric causing you to squirm around in his hold, “P-please, oh…” You trail off when he quickened his pace.

“Please what?” His tone was taunting, the kind you hated because now you knew what he wanted, “‘M not going to give you anything if you don’t ask for it. Where're your manners, sweetheart?” You let out a little cry, your head falling into the crook of his neck as his other hands gingerly stroked your back in a comforting way. 

“Eddie,” You whimpered against the column of his skin, searching for the spot that made him go weak, his breathing shuddering as you dragged your lips against it, “Please…god fuck, please touch me.” Eddie snorts, his hands stopping their movements as he raises his brow in questioning. 

“Where?” His thumb presses up harshly against your swollen clit, dragging it down south as you whine again, “Here?” And you dumbly nod, not knowing if you had it in yourself to tell him what you want.

He didn’t have to be told twice as he hooked his fingers along the waistband of your panties, tugging them down as he flung them off into the abyss of his room. He could see how your chest was heaving with labored breaths, and he grinned inwardly knowing that nobody else would be able to see you like this. 

He flattened you down on the bed, pushing down on your stomach as you followed his movements, watching as he stretched, flashing you a charming grin.

He pressed a little kiss to the inner corner of your thighs, each one closer to your awaiting cunt, his nose rubbing alongside your clit, giving it a little sniff as you groaned, your hands pawing at the bedsheets as he smiled against you.

“You’re such a perv, Eddie.” You mutter, turning your head to the side so that he couldn’t see your expression. 

“Yeah, I know,” He chuckled, giving little kitten licks as you shuddered again, “But you like it, don’t you? Like knowing that I’m the only one that can touch you like this?” And you can’t answer him because you both know he’s right.

You can’t say anything as his tongues swirl against your folds, lapping up your essence as you moan, your cries growing louder and louder as he increases his movements. Everything he did was driving you towards the edge, especially when he looked up from between your thighs, smiling knowingly against your skin as he sucked loudly at your clit 

“So wet - fuck,” He groans, his tongue moving past your entrance as he watches your eyes roll back, “Shit…and you taste so fucking good,” And the obscene sounds mixed with the way he swirls his tongue around your hole is enough to make you go crazy. 

You knew he hadn’t been going at it for long but he was so skilled in knowing how to unravel you that you could already feel your thighs shaking, his grips on them tightening as he tried to hold you down. You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to move his head up and down the expanse of your cunt. 

“Just like that,” He’d say, his tongue moving up to your clit as he pumped a finger in and out, his eyes shutting momentarily as he felt you clamp down on him, “S-sweetheart you’re so fucking tight. Even after all this time,” You let out unintelligible babble as he drew circles on the bundle of nerves, adding another finger as you cried out for him. 

“Eddie! Fuck, s-shit,” Your words slurred together as he quicked his pace, feeling how you squeezed against his digits, “Don’t stop - umph!” You bit down at the back of your hand to muffle the scream you would have let out. 

“God, Eddie, please, oh, just,” You cry out, “Faster, please!” And he obliges your change in nature from when he first met you only going south.

“Come on sweetheart, almost there,” He coaxed you through it, his fingers and tongue never letting up, “You’re doing fucking amazing, come on, cum, there you go…” You twitched around as your toes curled, white flashing before your eyes as you let out a scream, your climax washing over you as Eddie made sure not to waste a drop of your release, quick to lap it all as he sucked his fingers dry. 

He grinned as he took in your wasted state; your legs spread wide open for him, pussy twitching from your orgasm, wet and shiny in the dim light of his room. He wanted to punch himself for forgetting to stock up on film to take a picture of this very moment.

“You look ruined.” He said teasingly,  moving down as he balanced himself on his arms, pressed a sloppy kiss to your lips as you whined at the taste of yourself on him. He trailed down, sucking at your neck, just above your collarbone. He made sure to leave another mark for tonight, reveling in the way you’d groan at him, smacking him in the arm for not being conspicuous enough, but not even bothering to cover it up when the time came.

“Because of you,” You muttered weakly, stretching your legs wider so that he could situate himself more comfortably. His fingers kneaded at the meat of your thighs, running down your calves, and he winked as he caught your stare. 

His hands grasped at your ankles, moving them up and to his shoulders as you winced a little bit at the uncomfortable stretch. He pressed a kiss to them, a small thank you for being so acquiescent.

Before he could continue you saw how he paused, his fingers still rubbing at your calves as he looked at the drawer next to his desk. You followed his gaze, your mind working fast as you tried to contain the little grin that graced your face when you tapped his shoulder, bringing his attention back to you.

“Don’t have to,” You whisper, your voice thick as his brows furrowed in confusion before you continued, “I’m on the pill.”

And he chokes a little bit, his eyes widening as you giggle at his reaction. The idea of doing it raw with you had been plaguing his mind ever since he first felt you wrap around him, wondering just how warm you were, and he could barely think straight when he thought about spilling in you, his cum overflowing from your pretty pussy as he marked you in the most intimate way possible. He was so lost in the little trance you had placed upon him that he could barely register your gentle touch as you rubbed at his cheeks. 

“Y’hear me, Eds?” You asked, worried as he seemed like he went to his little world as his grip on you tightened just a bit. And he nodded, looking back to you as he leaned back down, his hands moving away from your legs as your ankles slid down, catching you in an unexpected kiss. It was feverish and crazy how he moved against you, wet and sloppy as he tried to make it fast but he couldn’t with the way you held his jaw in your hands, looking up at him softly as your eyes searched his. 

“Y-yeah, heard you just fine, sweetheart.” He said through a grumble as he cleared his throat, pressing another peck to your forehead as he moved back down, readjusting himself to where he originally was as he rubbed at his ears glowing pink.

“Make me go crazy, seeing you like this,” Eddie murmurs as he aligns his tip with your entrance, groaning at the feeling as you stroke his arms, your finger trailing upwards as they push the hair out of his face, “You’re so fucking hot, y’know that, right?” 

“Eddie please just,” You press your lips together as he quirks a brow, “God - please - just fuck me already!” He laughs at your outburst, evading the little punch you threw at his chest as he pressed a kiss up against your knuckles. 

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

He pushes his cock in, bottoming out in you as you scream at the feeling of him. It was much more different than you expected, feeling all of him in you as your lips trembled at the feeling of his veins dragging up your walls.

“Eddie! Fuck, ugh, oh fuck you’re s-so big!”

He whines at the way you grip his wrists, how tears spring up to your eyes as you try to get used to his size. 

He can feel your nails drag along his back, the pain not enough to hurt him as he tries to control himself, knowing that you had to adjust for a couple of seconds before he continued. It was evil the way you had him wrapped around your little finger, acting like he knew everything when he was a total mess whenever he was around you. 

Your eyes squeeze shut at the sting, his dick still managing to stretch you out after months of taking him. 

“S-stop,” He moaned out as you dragged your hands across his chest, your psalm freezing as he shivered, “Stop clamping down on me s’much sweetheart, gotta…” He breathed deeply through his nose, still trying not to move, “Gotta loosen up, j-just a little bit, fuck, p-please…” And you try, really you do, but he’s just so big that you don’t have the opportunity to do so.

So Eddie gives up, his hips betraying his mind as he pulls back out, slamming back down into you as your screams and moans wrap around him, holding his body like a vice as you grip at his arms, begging him quietly through your choked words to just slow down a little bit.

You can feel every little inch of him in you, his veins dragging up and down your walls as his tip teases that spongy part inside of you, his hands trailing down to where your bodies connected as he rubbed frantically at your clit, your eyes squeezing shut in ecstasy. 

“Shit - fuck, Y/n you feel so fucking amazing like this, fuck, fuck, fuck…” He groaned, his hands searching for yours, sliding them up as he curled his fingers with your, the bead of sweat trickling down his face as he kissed the tip of your nose in the loving way he always did.

It wasn’t that you weren't used to this, how he fucked you up and down on his cock.

Eddie Munson just always seemed to know how to fuck you stupid.

Words were incoherent from your mouth as you babble on about how amazing he was, his dick repeatedly hitting your g-spot as you gripped whatever you possibly could, your hands searching for something to hold because you felt like you’d be slipped away sooner than later. 

He hoists your leg up to his shoulder, leaning down as he nuzzles into your neck, letting out a choked moan as he kisses your breasts, sucking at them and leaving little bites all over them as he felt himself going insane with the way you clenched tightly around him. 

The smell of sweat and sex was defiling you all over again, Eddie's cologne mixing with the perfume you had spritzed on earlier that day, and it became addictive, the way you searched for it, something that only the two of you could create.

“Eddie, please, mphf!” You moaned as he captured the sound in a searching kiss, his tongue running along your lips wet with spit and tears, “Please, p-please cum in me, I wanna feel you so fucking b-bad!” You cried as his finger swirled faster against your clit. The feeling that mixed with the way he rutted his hips against you, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass as it became drowned out by the sound of both your sobs. 

Both you and he could feel each other releases coming, with the way your walls began to clamp down even tighter and how he faltered, his legs growing weak from the weight of it all crashing down on him, his hold on your waist growing tighter than ever before as his hips slammed back down into your pelvis with less force than before. 

You trailed your fingers down to where he was circling your clit, all of it working together as you let out a little squeal as you gushed around him, your release coating his skin as he sputtered against you. 

“Shit! Fuck, oh god, Y/n, fuck, I’m c-coming…” He couldn’t finish his sentence as you felt his cum coating your walls, hot against your already burning folds as he slumped down, groaning into your chest as your hands stayed limped on his back. 

His dick was still pulsating inside of you, a little bulge from everything and he slowly pulled out, his cock growing soft as he watched his cum spill out of you, the sight nearly enough to make him hard again. 

“Holy fucking shit,” He muttered softly, his fingers going to your aching cunt as he tried to shove it back in there, not missing the way you moaned as he accidentally rubbed against your swollen clit, “Y’look so fucking hot right now.” 

And even in your dazed state, you managed to laugh, the sound warming up his chest as he engulfed one of your hands in his, bringing it up to his lips as he left tender kisses on your fingertips, trailing down to your knuckles as you melted at the gesture. 

“Shit, shit,” He muttered quickly as he notices all the marks littering your chest, his rings scratching alongside your waist from how tightly he was gripping you and he grimaced, “Sorry for hurtin’ you, didn’t mean to be so rough,” You would have argued if you weren't so tired. And regardless, you watched through blurry vision as he quickly jumped off the bed, tugging on some boxers as he sprinted out of the room only appearing minutes later with a wet towel. 

“Here,” He motioned for you to spread your legs a little bit so he could clean the mess between them, “There you go, just like that sweetheart,” He tried to be gentle, cooing at you as you winced as it dragged against the tender skin of your cunt, delicate kisses lining your entrance as he looked at you through his long lashes. 

“Y’did so fuckin’ amazing.” 

With a little giggle and a knowing smirk, you shrug, pulling him by the back of his neck as you kiss the corner of his lips. 

“I know Munson,” You push his hair behind his ear as he smiles into your lips, “You never fail to mention.”

He grins, flopping down beside you as he tosses your shirt back towards you, averting his gaze as he tugged it on, his innocence in moments like this making you fall for him even more than you already thought was possible. 

Eddie glanced at the clock on the wall, groaning at the time and you followed his gaze, the sinking feeling filling your stomach as you realized that it was beginning to get late and you’d have to go home soon. 

“Wish you’d just stay,” He whispered truthfully, turning his body so that he could press against your neck. 

“I know,” You kissed the side of his head as you nudged his jaw with your nose, wanting him to look at you as you smiled a little bit, “Soon.” 

He perked up a bit, eyes widening as he tried to decipher what you could mean. 

“Soon?”

“Soon,” You say with a giggle, laughing against his lips as he brings his hand up to cradle your face, smiling gleefully into the kiss as he gently bit your lip, pulling it forwards as your hands ran up and down the expanse of his naked torso. 

“Really?”

“Really really,” You say and he scoffs, almost not believing you as he raises his brows.

“You honestly mean it?” He sounded so optimistic, so tantalizingly precious that you couldn’t help but break into a wide grin, nodding against his face as he gripped your hips gently, kissing alongside your jaw as he could practically feel his heart beating sporadically in the limited space of his ribcage. 

“Cross my heart.” You say, doing the motion as his forehead relaxed, hugging and pulling you closer to his chest as his fingers trailed across the curves, the little dips your body allowed only him to see. 

The beating of his heart was loud, yet peaceful enough to lull you into a state of calm, your breathing slowing down as his hands mapped every crevice of your torso, pinching playfully at your thighs as you giggled in his grasp. 

“Think I’m starting to like cherries more,” He murmured against your skin, his lips hot on your shoulder as you smiled up at the ceiling, eyes twinkling as Eddie traced little shapes onto your stomach. 

“Yeah?” He hummed a bit as you couldn’t help but laugh at it all, “Why’s that Munson?” 

“Apples just don't...” He paused trying to think of how to phrase it correctly, “They don’t cut it anymore, if you get what I’m saying.” 

“I’m sorry but,” You chuckle as he smiles against you, “I don’t think I do, Eds.” It was these little conversations that you cherished more than anything, where both of you were carefree and the world around you didn't matter because the way he held you tightly against him made you feel so many different things at once you couldn’t process the emotion somethings.

“Yeah, well,” He gave an exaggerated sigh, “Cherries have the annoying seeds and they charge fifty times more for them but,” He licks your neck and you heat up, “They remind me of you. Apples now remind me of Henderson and his lunches packed with that god-awful smelling baloney.” You give him a hearty laugh, turning around as you kiss him, not able to stop because he always managed to toy with your heart in this particular way that made you wonder why you hadn’t met him sooner. 

The night faded out with him bringing you back home, dropping you off with a tender kiss and a farewell wave, acting like your very own knight as he left you beaming by your front door, your feet digging into the concrete as you reached up on your tiptoes to wave goodbye to him. And you Realized at that very moment that Eddie Munson had total reign over you now, and nobody could match up to him again. 

So when you meant soon, you really did mean it. 

That following day you strolled into the cafeteria, straying away from the boy attached by your side as you ignored his confusing calls, wondering why in the world you were walking towards Eddie Munson.

Your smile was bright and gleaming as he watched through a calculating gaze, leaving everybody in that lunchroom stunned and speechless as you leaned up and dragged him down by the neck to press a sloppy kiss to his lips, his smile apparent even as you pulled away, his hands never leaving your hips as he raised his brows. 

“New gloss?” He asked, feeling the eyes of everybody in that room as he motioned his finger to his lips, and you shot him an apologetic look as you wiped it off with your thumb. 

“Mhm, it's cherry!” You tell him with a little giggle, “Thought you’d like it!”

Eddie Munson was a man long gone after that, groaning as he swooped you back into his arms, not caring that your boyfriend was shouting loudly behind you, demanding to know what in the actual fuck was happening. 

Because now, Eddie could finally kiss that obnoxious flavored gloss off your lips and knowingly stare at the world with a cocky smirk because you were always going to be his.

3 years ago

𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 // 𝕕𝕚𝕝𝕗!𝕔𝕖𝕠!𝕕𝕞 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 → 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕓𝕠𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕠 𝕤𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕙𝕚𝕞 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 → 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗,, 𝕔𝕖𝕠!𝕕𝕚𝕝𝕗!𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕠,, 𝕓𝕦𝕓𝕓𝕪,, 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣,, 𝕤𝕠𝕗𝕥 𝕤𝕞𝕦𝕥,, 𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜,, 𝕤𝕢𝕦𝕚𝕣𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘,, 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜,, 𝕤𝕦𝕓𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕖,, 𝕕𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕜,, 𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕪!𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣,, 𝕚𝕞𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕕 𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕘𝕒𝕡,, 𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕕𝕒 𝕤𝕦𝕘𝕒𝕣 𝕕𝕒𝕕𝕕𝕪!𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕠 𝕓𝕦𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪,, 𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟,, 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕡𝕚𝕖

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤 → 𝟝.𝟙𝕜

𝕒/𝕟 → 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕞𝕪 𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕖𝕝𝕤 :)

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3 years ago

twin flame // gw x reader

words: 3.8k

series genre: angst, fluff, smut (all in due time)

warnings: jealous george, angry george, charlie x reader kinda, mentioned ronmine, mentioned hinny, mentioned bleur, percy weasley slander, alcohol consumption, spitting kink (sorta if you squint), cringey pet names, mediocre writing at best

a/n: idk how many parts this will be,, maybe 5. but i already have the ending in mine. happy reading loves!

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