#MAD PROPS FOR ALL THE HARD WORK THAT WENT INTO THAT!!!

[uzumaki-rebellion]

In Your Arms Tonight by Uzumaki Rebellion

Pairing: Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie Moore

Warning(s): 18+, Explicit Sex, Unprotected Sex, Adult Language, Speculative Elements

Summary: Annie has been asked by her estranged husband Smoke to provide hot food for the opening of his new juke joint in Clarksdale. After seven years apart, their passion and love for each other hasn't waned, but Smoke learns the hard way that leaving his wife alone for a long stretch of time doesn't mean other suitors haven't been chomping at the bit to be with her in his absence.

Word count: 7.2K

"Somebody take me

In your arms tonight, alright

Somebody take me

In your arms tonight…"

Miles Caton – "I Lied to You"

Oh, he was mad.

Big mad.

Full lips all bunched up in a pout. Eyes more narrow than a sewing needle stitching a hemline back in her house. Fingers gripping the rolled tobacco cigarette tight.

Annie Moore watched her estranged husband Elijah "Smoke" Moore pretend to act unbothered on the second-floor, looking down at the mighty fine juke joint he and his twin Stack cobbled together in a day.

That big nigga was fuming up there, all on account of Beau Willie approaching her for a plate of fried catfish, and her mama's red rice recipe carried all the way over from Baton Rouge, Louisiana.

There was plenty of fish to fry, pots of greens to stir, fried potatoes to season, and plenty of people to buy plates and eat them in Club Juke.

Annie wiped her brow with a folded towel next to the fryers and pretended not to notice her man hawking her from above. She gave Beau Willie two big slices of white bread with hot sauce, and pointed out the Irish beer, and Italian wine available to purchase with it. Her best friends Millie and Alberta helped cook and serve, and they all tapped their feet to the music swirling throughout the transformed sawmill. Two of Millie's older daughters stood nearby, watching and learning, and every now and then, the women would let them cook a batch of fish and sell some plates. Grace Chow the grocery store owner, also helped serve and sell liquor while gossiping with them.

"That man keep starin' at you, he gonna have his eyes fallin' outta his head," Millie whispered.

Grace giggled. Annie rolled her eyes and popped the cap of Beau Willie's beer with a bottle opener for him. Handed him the drink.

"There ya go, Beau Willie. You enjoy all that and come back for more when you ready," she said.

"You know I'll be back for your cookin', Annie. Every time," Beau Willie said with a voice deeper than the Mississippi River.

Brawny and handsome, Beau Willie worked the cotton fields like most of the colored people inside the juke. He was her first boyfriend. The first boy to ever kiss her.

Delta Slim belted out some tunes on his harmonica and tickled the piano keys, and Lloyd Allen played the lead guitar. The dancing crowd added the extra percussive beats. Preacher Boy Sammie stood next to the legend and played along with his guitar respectfully, not trying to outplay his elders, just keeping the rhythm steady with his strumming. A fiddler and two sibling banjo players waited offside for their turn to perform.

Annie served a few more plates and propped herself next to Grace against the counter filled with liquor bottles and high-priced hooch. She rightfully assumed Smoke and Stack stole all that shit. Smoke came to her house with pockets so fat and full of cash that she knew he'd been up to no good again. Wasn't no need to question or fuss with him about his criminality. He was going to do what he wanted.

A soft shiver went up her spine.

Lord, that man put it on her earlier that day! Twice. It was like old times with them. Argue and fight, and then fuck the disagreement away.

An undercurrent of disappointment simmered in her blood for his abandonment of their marriage after the loss of their baby. He begged her to run off to Arkansas with him after they robbed several banks in Clarksdale, and she refused to leave their baby behind in the ground they buried her in. That gravesite was holy, and she didn't want to leave her kin behind either. Smoke grew bitter about his pain. Selah, their baby girl, had meant everything to him. He couldn't wait to be a father and the first time he held her, the tears wouldn't stop flowing. They never stopped flowing after her death.

Annie did all she could when Selah grew sick. Asked every ancestor she knew by name and then some for help, wrung her hands with High John the Conqueror root as she beseeched God to grant her one holy favor: save her daughter from a too soon homegoing.

It wrecked Smoke.

He turned bitter, surly, and prone to drinking all day and night. The resentment in his eyes when she could cure ailments in other people, but not her own child, festered like an infection full of pus in his spirit. He said not one word to her, even though she sensed that negative energy clinging to him.

Her sorrow buried itself in her chest and she stumbled around each day numb for many months. They were not good to each other. He got it in his head to leave, like going away would banish Selah from their collective memory. She cursed him out. Beat her hands on his chest. How could he up and leave their child? Who was going to take care of her grave? Talk to her? Let her know they loved her beyond the veil of life?

He didn't skip off in the night when he left. That big gorgeous man looked Annie straight in her face and told her he couldn't stay. If he did, he feared he would turn into his father. A sullen, abusive man.

"Go on then," she said, "You scared to handle your feelings like a man, then leave. I'll stay and honor her and make a life with this pain."

He winced, and she turned her back on him, prepared an herbal remedy for a customer who was due to come by that day.

Smoke left her.

She had the community's support and sympathy. Built a business using the conjuring and medicinal skills she learned from her grandmother and Smoke's mother, Taiwo, both Hoodoo women. Taiwo nurtured her growth of knowledge until her passing two years ago. Annie stayed rooted in her power and fierce determination to keep her people thriving in Clarksdale.

She snuck a sip of the good hooch and squeezed her eyes shut from the burn that scorched her throat.

"Ooh, wee! That is some strong corn liquor," Annie gasped, patting her chest.

Millie cackled and sipped it like a pro, the moonshine sliding down her gullet like water.

"I don't know how you do that," Annie said with wonderment on her face.

"Y'all can't be drinking up the supply," Smoke said.

Annie jumped at the sound of her husband's voice. He'd moved in stealth down from the top floor to the main one. Grace wandered off to check on her husband, Bo.

"You ain't paying enough to be worried about me taking a drink when I want one," Annie joked.

"Thought I paid you in other ways that ain't got nothing to do with cash money," he teased, sliding his tongue across his top lip.

Millie smirked and lifted freshly cooked fish from the fryers and dumped them on some paper to drain. Annie wiped her hands and called one of the teen-aged girls over from the back to take over her spot.

"Where you going?" he asked.

"Going to mingle and let people know we got a hot batch ready. Why you stressing me?"

"As long as you're doing that and not flirting with customers."

"Flirting with who?"

Annie put a hand on her hip. Eyed him up and down.

Smoke glanced around. The crowd wasn't paying attention to him.

"Summa these menfolk might have some amorous intentions toward you that they shouldn't," he said.

She slanted her head and waited for him to continue. He snuck a glimpse of her chest. Annie wore her good bra tonight. Her breasts sat high like mountain peaks and looked voluptuous in her new velvet green dress with the few sparkly sequins she sewed into it. She gave enough cleavage with her beads falling down the center of her breasts guiding inquisitive eyes to the Promised Land. Green was Smoke's favorite color on her. Every man watched her work the floor all evening looking like a Hoodoo queen.

Her heavy hips and high riding backside cast spells on other men as she passed them by, and that worried Smoke in that sexually charged environment. Just because they made love hours ago didn't mean he had her safely tucked in his pocket. And he knew that. He'd been gone much too long to think other men hadn't plotted to scoop her up. It was one thing for her to be out of sight/out of mind while he was up north and not faced with other suitors pursuing her. Quite another to witness it full on in person. That's why he chased the back of her dress every chance he got when she went to wandering in the juke.

His reconciliation with her was still tenuous. By his facial expression, she knew he was having flashbacks of sticking his thick dick in her deep, gushy pussy, and he worried that some other man would dare to wet his dick in it, too. It kept him on his toes. Territorial. He'd already shot two men who tried to steal his liquor when he first arrived in town. If a man tried stealing his wife's pussy…there'd be a funeral in the morning.

Smoke didn't answer her question any further about flirting and cut his eyes away from her face. She slunk around him, draped her arms across his shoulders from the side, and stared up into the brown eyes he once gave their baby girl.

"What you worried about, Elijah?" she purred playfully.

"Ah, woman, get on and handle your business."

He tried to act nonchalant, but his eyes darted back and forth to clock anybody waiting to approach her when she moved away from him.

She kissed his cheek and sauntered off, glancing back to catch him watching her. Sure enough, three other men did the same, grinning at the seductive way she swung her hips. They looked elsewhere when Smoke turned their way, going in the opposite direction of her.

"How you folks doing? We got some fresh fish hot and ready. Some Creole potato salad, too! Don't be shy about getting seconds or thirds…hey Earline! I love that dress on you! Shake it, sis! Casper, let some other fellas get a chance to dance with her…hey Ora Lee! I ain't seen you out in a long time, girl!"

Annie circled the extensive building interior. Smoke's twin brushed past her on swift legs with Mary tailing him in her expensive pale satin dress. The juke stayed turned up, with Delta Slim leading the charge. People drank, ate, and had a damn good time.

Smoke stayed watching her, and she decided to ruffle his feathers.

"Oscar, don't you owe me a dance?"

She tapped a man's shoulder, and he showed all his teeth, so happy to hold her hand and swing her out on the floor. Her left arm casually rested on his slim shoulders, and he loved the feel of her near him.

"Aw, Miss Annie, I been waiting all night for a chance to dance with you."

He was only a couple of years older than her, searching for a wife, and he'd been pestering her to go out even though she told him she was still married…for seven years straight. With no word from Smoke, she started keeping company with Oscar briefly two years ago, but the bones she threw after their third picnic date told her they were not evenly yoked. They also told her Smoke wasn't dead. And if he wasn't dead, he was bound to come home someday. She let Oscar down easy, but he never gave up hope. He dated around, but yearned for her still. It showed in the way he held her while they danced. Annie kept it short and chaste.

"Thank you," she said.

"Why you running off, Annie? You think I'm scared of that runaway husband that showed up out the blue?"

She grinned.

"I got more fish to cook and some money to make," she said.

"Don't be shy coming my way again," he said, winking at her.

His buddy had a different idea.

"Nigga, you oughta be scared. Them Smokestack twins ain't to be tested if you want to stay healthy. You ain't hear about them fellas that tried to steal from Smoke today?" his buddy said.

Annie slipped away from the conversation and checked on Smoke, who still stood up high overlooking the railing. Lips poked out again, but he wasn't taking the bait.

She returned to her post after using the privy outside and washing her hands. Stack's trickster self found himself caught in the middle of a heated conversation within a circle of young women who didn't look happy with him.

"What I miss?" Annie said.

Alberta nodded over toward Mary, who sipped a glass of wine at the far end of the food table, watching Stack like he'd vanish into thin air if she didn't keep her eyes glued to him.

"Stack called those ladies field bitches, and they heard Mary say she'd beat up every one of them over him," Alberta said.

"Oh, Lord," Annie sighed.

One woman wagged her finger in Stack's face and spoke loud enough for Mary to hear.

"Her mama was a field bitch too!"

Millie went over to help get the argument under control. Stack looked somewhat remorseful, but maybe it was because the darker Black women were lighting his ass up. They didn't play that shit.

Alberta inched closer and lowered her voice.

"You see that gal right there? The one fussing the most? She's Grace Latimer's niece. Her sister Jessie left town seven months after Stack left. He was messing with her and Mary at the same time. They say she had two of his babies. Twin girls. Her people carried her off to Pittsburgh and got her married up quick. They were too scared to confront Stack about it. Now that's a rumor, so don't go telling folks you heard that from me."

Annie studied the young woman cursing Stack out.

"Does he know he has children by Jessie?" Annie said.

"Like he would care if it's true. He a rolling stone, that one. I wouldn't be surprised if he got a heap of babies all over the states the way he sweet talks women out they drawers."

Annie glanced over at Mary again. She stayed watching her great love with twisted lips and heat in her eyes. Annie felt bad for her. It made her wonder about Smoke. Were there babies out there in Chicago with his last name attached to them? No, she would've known. Felt it. Her small bag of bones would've told her as well. She prayed for that man to come back home safe, and he did. Took him a long time, but she had him back for herself.

Stack smoothed over the argument, apologized, let the women have free drinks on him, and they rolled their eyes and went about their business partying. He shuffled away to join the rougher men gambling with their Chinese guests in a back room, his gold-rimmed teeth gleaming. Mary huffed loudly, then flounced off into the crowd.

"Whew, I don't want that kinda love coming after me," Millie said, "She sticking to him like a haint in the graveyard."

"She shouldn't even be here," Alberta interjected. "He keeps telling her to go, but she won't leave. What if that sheriff come 'round here to check this place out and they see her? Ain't enough bribery money in this world to keep them crackas from killing him or us if they think she white. Her too. God rest her mama's soul, but she ain't doing us no good being here," Alberta said.

"She knows, but she don't care," Millie said.

Annie fixed plates quietly.

"Annie, maybe you should talk to her. She listens to you. She your play cousin anyway," Millie said.

"Ain't nothing I can say to her that will change her mind. Y'all know I'm married to Stack's other half. I loves me some Smoke, so I know what she's feeling inside. Can't explain it to y'all what it's like being in love with a Moore man. They cut from a different cloth."

"Oh, so they be up in them guts having y'all speaking tongues then," Millie teased.

Annie guffawed and grabbed onto her friend's arm to hush her. The women laughed together and Annie sighed afterward.

"All they got is this one night," Annie said. "We're safe enough in here with our people. Stack gotta decide what he gonna do with her on his own is all I'm saying. I'll talk to her in a little bit. But we got work to do."

Annie supervised the cooking, fanned herself, and chatted up the patrons buying liquor. She couldn't stop grinning at everything and everybody. The festive atmosphere hadn't been in Clarksdale like that for years. People needed the release from toiling in the fields and their troubles.

She took another walk to cool off. The sweat between her breasts and thighs got to her. She fanned herself down in a corner and gazed at the dance floor where folks stomped feet and threw hands up in the air.

The scent of tobacco wafted near her nose.

Smoke found his way next to her. He handed her a small mason jar half-filled with wine. He held another for himself.

"For a job well done," he said.

They clinked the jars together, and she sipped the white wine. He did the same after tossing his cigarette. The sweet liquid tasted good. Not too dry, nor overly sweet.

"You look beautiful, Annie. I meant to tell you that before we got here…but we got busy and…"

"Thank you," she said.

He took their empty jars away and handed them to a young man walking past and asked him to drop them off over at the liquor table to be washed.

"Would you like to dance, Mrs. Moore?" he asked her.

"I would love to, Mr. Moore."

A faint perceptible smile turned up one side of his mouth. She delighted in the rare sight of seeing his dimples. One would think only Stack had them with the lack of smiles Smoke gave freely. So stingy.

He threaded his fingers with hers and purposely walked to the center so everyone would see they were together. The strut in his step gave away his pride at having her by his side. If other men didn't take the obvious hint that she was back with her husband, the gun openly displayed on Smoke's side would deter them.

When he pulled her in close for a down home slow drag, her breasts rested on his wide chest where they were meant to be. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and those muscular ones of his circled her waist. He'd taken off his tweed jacket and the heat from him gripped around her as tight as his arms. They rocked their bodies together and his eyes latched onto hers.

Smoke didn't need words to speak what he felt. He snaked his hips and pressed into her tight.

Love looked right into her eyes through him. So raw and intimate. She almost had to turn away from his intense gaze.

"Baby, you're the finest woman in here," he whispered in her ear.

He let the tip of his tongue swipe the shell of her ear and spoke her name slowly, like an incantation. The hair of his mustache tickled her face the way she remembered, and he rubbed on her Rubenesque shape. Smoke loved him some full-figured women and although she had been a slender teenager when they first met at a church revival gathering, he took one look at her mother and saw the future of what Annie would become. It probably helped that she'd grown plump round titties already, but he'd zeroed in on her like a hummingbird to nectar.

His prediction came true. She filled out in the hips and rump. Her breasts turned buxom. He became an ass man and a lover of big tits.

Smoke liked how snug they were against him in that moment because his dick already poked at her through his trousers. She slid a hand down and palmed that third leg.

"Hey, now," he said, looking around.

"You think your dick the only one hard out here?" she said.

He lowered his hand on her waist and slapped her ass.

"Play around with me, woman, and I'm liable to take you in a room upstairs and bend you over again. You want me to make another big mess inside you?"

Annie covered his mouth with her hand, shushing him.

He pulled it away.

"What? You can talk dirty to me, but I can't give it right back to ya?"

She threw back her head and beamed, feeling tingles all over from the raspy tone of his voice. He gently placed his lips on her neck and sucked on it while stroking her bare arms. His fingertips ignited her flesh and when he finally kissed her, she didn't hesitate to slide her tongue against his. Her heart thumped with the excitement of their lips touching and fired off sparks everywhere on her body. When the man started lifting and separating her ass cheeks, kneading them like he had biscuits to make, she had to shut him down, or else he'd take her right there on the dance floor.

"I gotta get back to work, Elijah—"

"Mmm hmmm."

She pulled his hands away from her backside reluctantly. He slapped her rump again playfully.

"When we get back home, I'll get them big legs around me again," he teased.

He grabbed onto his dick and showed her the bulge ready for her. She waved a hand to shoo him away, but he held her from behind and pressed his temple against hers, swaying to the music. He gently tugged on the soft abundance of her belly and held it while putting his tongue in her ear again.

"You my woman, understand? My wife."

"Yes."

He patted her rump, and she meandered over to the food, playing with her protective haint blue beads, and giving herself time to collect her thoughts about Smoke. She grinned until her cheeks hurt; her husband's touches still lingered over the skin of her arms and midsection.

"Love looks good on you, Annie," Millie said.

Annie patted her friend's hand and calculated the amount of food left to cook. Plates were moving, but the liquor not as quick while folks danced. They would have to lower prices on the booze. Smoke wouldn't like that. The man wanted to make a profit, not break even…or worse. Surveying the crowd, if Club Juke could maintain its current capacity week after week, they would be alright.

She checked the trays of uncooked fish left. Not enough. Millie and Alberta noticed it, too. There was a tub of extra fish on ice in Smoke's truck.

"We need to get the rest from the truck…Hampton, come help me bring the fish in," Annie asked a young man standing idly by the table watching the dancing.

"I can get it for you, Annie," Beau Willie said.

He tossed a bottle of Irish beer into a waste bin.

"That's alright Beau Willie, Hamp can help me—"

"I got it," he said.

He headed out the side door, and Annie followed. She paused at the door's threshold and glanced over her shoulder. Smoke and Stack spoke to each other on the landing of the stairs leading to the second level.

She slipped outside and the balmy fall air felt hot and sticky on her skin.

"The truck's over there," she said, pointing.

He ambled over and she followed behind him.

A crow sat on the truck. Annie stared at it. The bird's eye shine announced its presence. It was odd to see a lone crow like that at night. Normally they did communal roosting hidden away. They preferred safety in numbers, and the anomaly of seeing one crow wide awake and watching her sent Annie's intuition into overdrive.

A pale white moon attracted her attention, and she turned to look at Club Juke in its entirety, surrounded by dense trees. The music bubbled out from it, and so did all the laughter inside. They were isolated from everyone in Clarksdale. The sawmill was the perfect property to buy.

The crow kept watching her.

It stretched its wings with a couple of loud flaps and then settled into observing her and Beau Willie. She touched her beads. The crow seemed familiar to her, like from some dream she had recently, one that woke her up in the middle of the night panting. Smoke had been in the dream with her. It had been so real that she could smell his skin and the cigarette smoke on his clothes. The crow spoke to her like a friend in that dream and told her not to worry. Her man was coming home soon.

Annie shook her head. Focused on the task at hand.

"It's up in there, Beau Willie," she said.

He pulled the tarp back and climbed onto the truck. He picked up the heavy tub of fish Smoke bought from Bo Chow and left it on the edge before jumping down on the ground.

"Thank you for helping me," she said.

"No problem, Annie. Always happy to help."

Beau Willie peered at her with softness in his deep-set eyes. Recently widowed, he cared for his four young children with his mother's help. His grown face still held the boyish charm she fell for as a teenager.

"Annie, can I ask you something personal?"

"What?"

"Is he staying for good this time?"

Annie wiped the back of her neck and turned to head back. He clasped her hand and held her in place.

"I'm not tryin' to be disrespectful to your husband. We both know who he is and what he does. You deserve better, Annie. Someone who won't run out on you when things get tough or even when bad things happen. I loved you first. He stole you from me—"

"Nobody stole me, Beau Willie."

"Then why him? Huh?"

"You and I were so young when we dated. You had plenty of girlfriends after me and married a good woman—"

"They weren't you, Annie. I've had you in my heart for a long time. If he doesn't stay this time like he didn't before…then give me a chance to rekindle us. I can give you a family already. I work hard…look after my kin. I ain't never stopped loving you. Even when you chose him over me, I held you here…"

He touched his heart.

"He's my husband. What you want, Beau Willie, is what I caint give. Maybe…maybe if Smoke never came back…maybe if he'd been killed or thrown in prison and stuck on a chain gang for life…maybe if something like that happened…our bond would be broken. But that man is a part of me and planted so deep in my soul that there ain't nothin' that you or any other man in that juke can say to change my mind different. I would walk through hell with him. Do you hear me?"

"He already put you through hell, Annie. Left you all alone, for all those years—"

"But he back now," she said, shifting her weight onto one foot.

She hated Beau Willie in that instant. He had the audacity to bring out the niggling twinges of doubt into her mind about Smoke.

The click of a revolver behind them snapped them to attention.

"You heard her, Beau Willie. I'm back now. I suggest you take that fish into the juke and stay the fuck away from my wife," Smoke said.

Beau Willie blinked rapidly and stepped back from her.

"No need to have that out, Smoke," Beau Willie said.

"Why not? I come outside and see another man propositioning my wife to leave me, and what am I supposed to do? Let that shit fly? I should blast holes in you right now, but I got a business to run. Pick that fish up, nigga, and go."

Beau Willie glared at Smoke. He didn't dare look at Annie again. Smoke aimed the gun at the man's head.

"I can take you out clean or painful. Your choice," Smoke said.

Beau Willie lifted the metal tub of iced fish and trudged back into the juke.

Smoke holstered his gun and faced Annie.

They stared at one another in silence.

"How much you hear?" she asked.

"Everything."

Her tongue worried the roof of her mouth as her eyes welled up.

"You really staying, right?" she said.

"You let that nigga get in your head?"

Annie closed her eyes. Tilted her head back slightly so no tears would fall.

"I'm staying," he reassured her.

She nodded her head once, afraid the knots in her stomach would find a way to take root in her chest.

"You believe me, dontcha, baby?"

"Like you told me back at my place. I believe what I can see," she said.

She left him outside and returned to the makeshift kitchen to oversee the cleaning of the fish. Smoke did his rounds on the floor, and she fought the anxiety of worrying about him and his plans. Her grandmother always told her people showed you who they were, and she could believe in what Smoke did. Not what he said.

Delta Slim beckoned for Sammie to take center stage with pride in his voice. The young man was finally getting his chance to sing.

"Tell them who you are…" Delta Slim said.

Sammie shyly and sweetly introduced himself, and Annie couldn't help but smile at how precious he was to the Moore family. He was her family, too, and he glanced at her briefly. She nodded her head for him to show the world his gifts and Sammie started singing something he never shared before and the hairs on her neck and arms raised up.

Immediately, a tunnel vision warped her reality and Annie pushed out her breath to keep herself from having a panic attack and passing out.

Sammie.

His guitar.

Annie stared at the walls as Sammie wailed out the blues with Delta Slim perched on stage like a proud Poppa. She could see the people shouting and encouraging Sammie to let loose, and when he held a long note, his voice ripped through the ceiling and Annie sensed there were more people in the sawmill than the ones she could physically see. Some unseen entity darted past her skin, touching her like bird wings fluttering in the air. High above, perched on a rafter, the crow from outside gazed down at her. The surge of power in the room engulfed the entire juke.

Smoke looked in her direction, just as shocked by the music and Sammie's voice and also by the triumphant way the people danced. Grace and Bo also twirled in time to the blues music that wrapped everyone in a cloak of revelry and freedom to be who they be.

Annie gasped, wildly overstimulated by the unseen. She touched the top of her head, feeling the sensation of an overwhelming presence.

It freed her.

She locked eyes with Smoke far across the room and he strode forward, zigzagging through the crowd on a direct path to her. The weight of Sammie's music slowed everything in her mind down and her husband's movement seemed even slower. She moved from around the counter and lunged for him, pushing through sweaty people, needing to get to her man.

Smoke reached for her, and she cradled his face.

"I need you. Here with me," she said.

"I ain't going nowhere."

Their lips crashed together, tongues battling to subdue the other in a frenetic exchange of energy and desire. He entwined their fingers and pulled her through the crowd, heading for the stairs. The music had risen to a crescendo that vibrated on her skin with an intensity that should've burst into flames.

Smoke pulled her up the stairs and into a room that he used for himself, that he planned to make his office if the juke proved profitable. He slammed the door shut behind them.

He spun her around and helped her take off her dress, unhooked her bra, and pushed her onto an old cot covered in a coarse blanket. Smoke undressed quickly, and the music rose through the floor.

"Somebody take me…in your arms tonight…!"

Sammies mature voice thundered below them.

The only thing Smoke had on was the mojo bag she made for him and his metal dog tags from the war. His dick pointed at her and dripped pre-cum. He barely gave her time to pull off her panties before his erection parted her slick labia and sank into her.

"Oh…Jesus!" Annie shouted.

Her man was down in that bottom.

He cradled her breasts and stretched his mouth around her areola, sucking to his heart's content. She wrapped her thighs around him and he gave her more of the deep dick she'd been craving for seven years.

"This is my pussy," mumbled into her ear.

The weight of him smothered her in scorching heat and his steady heartbeat.

He dropped to his knees and spread her legs, licking his wide tongue against her labia, giving extra tender care to her clit. Daddy was hungry and made her a sopping wet mess. He took his time until there was nearly a puddle under her.

"Turn over," he said, helping her move into the position wanted.

She placed herself on her hands and knees. He plunged his tongue inside her entrance and she squealed. Rubbing on her ass, he stood and inserted that thickness between his legs back into her, grunting and cussing up a storm. Her pussy felt exquisite to him by the sounds he moaned out. She was as hot and gushy as he wanted. He angled himself so he could watch her titties hang and smack together with each powerful thrust. Annie was so wet that her pussy sounded like it was having its own conversation taking his dick in the small room.

He climbed on the cot with Annie and pulled her onto her knees. She spread her thighs wide. He took back shots, holding her arms behind her, and Annie's tits bounced like crazy, forcing throaty moans from him. The pounding of the rhythm below them matched the pounding Smoke gave her pussy. The frenzy of his dick going in and out pulled lustful cries of pleasure from her lips. He palmed her breasts and rolled his fingers across her big nipples.

"You coulda been getting this pussy all the time," she said.

He clutched onto her tits, squeezing them, before gripping her arms tight, delighting in her titties shaking and arousing him more.

Annie squeezed her walls around his girth and he shouted her name.

"Pussy so good…Annie…"

She took control and pulled away from him.

"Whatchu doing? I need that shit…" he gasped.

She pushed him onto his back and climbed on top of him. Her thighs spread and wedged against his hips. Her breasts rested on his chest. He fondled them and stared up at her.

"I love you, Elijah. I never stopped loving you. All these years…I never once wanted any man the way I wanted you."

He thrust up, and she snapped her eyes closed. He stretched her like no other, and it felt incredible.

"Elijah…"

He thumbed her clit, allowing the slick wetness from her pubic hairs to coat the button every man wanted to push on her since Smoke had been away. She lowered her head and kissed him. His lips were so fluffy and soft against her mouth. The taste of her pussy there pleased him. He licked his lips as she tasted herself.

"I love you…hear me, woman? I love you. Don't let one of these niggas get killed tryna take you from me."

"No one can take me from you."

"You sure?"

She stopped moving.

"You think I'd want anyone else?"

She spread her hands on the wide planes of his chest. Traced two fingers down the path below his belly button of soft hairs that led to the wild pubic bush surrounding his dick.

He didn't answer, trusting the sincerity in her eyes.

"All I ever wanted was you…just you, Elijah. And when you left me…"

He lifted himself to face her and held his hands around her waist and backside.

"Shhh…shhh. Don't cry, Annie. Baby, please…I don't ever want to make you cry again. I promise."

He kissed away each teardrop that fell from her eyes. The soft pecks built up her confidence in him and she breathed easier. His voice stayed soft.

"I told you I missed you and wanted to be with you…I also want us to try for a baby again. Build our family," he said.

"You do?"

"Yes. That is…if you want that, too."

She hugged him tight.

"I do…I do!"

She wept so hard her eyes blurred. Smoke gave her one of his rare smiles, and her heart nearly burst with joy.

Annie rocked on him, pleasuring herself and him. Smoke held her breasts and sucked on her nipples.

"Oh…damn…Elijah…you're making me…oh Jesus!"

Annie came hard, and it rocked her world. Smoke massaged her breasts and watched her face transform with the rapturous climax. He grazed his teeth across a nipple and she shuddered, exalting in the sensations cascading all across her skin.

"We can try for a baby right now," he said.

He flipped her back over onto the small cot and she yelped as he tossed her legs over his biceps.

"Will you let me put another baby in you, Annie?"

"I sure will," she gasped, nearly out of breath.

His dimples melted her. He got down to business, too. Touching her skin all over, kissing her throat and whispering words of love in her ear. He licked on her nipples and stared at her fullness.

"Touching you is like touching the beauty of the night sky, Annie. You my jewel…my most precious thing in this world. Without you…I ain't fit to live."

"Hush now…"

"Nah, I want you to hear me."

"I want you to show me."

He grinned and pumped that thickness into her slowly, letting her feel every inch. Her mouth parted, and he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Ooh…Elijah…baby…"

Her pants came faster, and the groans from him aroused her to new heights. He hunched over her and every muscle flexed for her. Their sweat mingled and his strokes curled her toes. He lowered her legs and thumbed her clit, watching his dick go in and out. His lips poked out and his face carried a serious expression.

She recognized that look.

He was about to cum.

"Annie…baby…I'm getting close…"

She fondled her own breasts, and it created more tension for him. His eyes darted from her pussy to her tits. The way his eyes narrowed, she knew it was going to be a big load.

"Annie!"

"Yes!"

"I'm cummin'!"

He threw his head back and roared her name, his thumb faithfully rubbing her clit until she spilled over into a new release. His dick throbbed inside her and she matched the pulses squeezing her walls around him to milk every drop of cum.

"Fuckkkk!"

His hoarse cry drowned out her whimpers of pleasure. Her pussy kept throbbing around him until the last surge of her orgasm quieted down enough where she could move again.

"Elijah?"

His eyes watered. Tears fell down on her. The tone of his voice trembled.

"I'm sorry, baby…for everything…"

"My love…it's okay…you're here with me…we're here together," she said.

"I can't give you back those seven years…"

"Shhh…stay with me here…in this moment… in the right now."

He twisted his head to the side in shame. She pulled it back to look at her.

"We here," she said

He kissed her forehead.

Smoke snuggled around her until they were in a tight spoon together. He played with a breast and listened to her breathing calm down. The music below them kept going and Annie didn't want to leave his arms ever again. She shifted her position, and Smoke rested his head on her breasts. Stroking his hair gently, she snatched that tiny moment of peace for themselves, forgetting about everything and everybody in the juke.

Annie cleaned herself up as best she could with the buckets of water Smoke brought up from a well out behind the juke. No one paid attention to him or questioned why he needed to tote water and clean rags upstairs. He cleaned himself up, too, and they rejoined the dancing below.

She floated.

Making love to him grounded her and pushed away any doubt.

He was going to stay with her.

She hoped they had conceived a little one. Lord knows he put enough semen in her over the course of a day to open a whorehouse. She laughed at the thought.

Smoke made his rounds, checking in on everything before he slipped his hand over hers to dance one more time.

She nuzzled her face against his cheek, pulling an open smile from his face. It was such a shock that even Delta Slim had to look twice to make sure it was real.

She hooked her arms around her husband's neck, swayed with him in time to the music and their own internal rhythm. Part of his mojo bag peeked out from his vest. She touched it. Early that morning, she had fed it, prayed over it, recharged it with her love and that of her ancestors to protect him.

"Blood of my blood…bone of my bone…," she whispered.

"You putting a root on me, woman? I told you… I'm home for good. Forever," he said.

"Forever ever?" she teased.

"For always."

"Ashe," she affirmed.

"What that mean again?"

"And so it is."

"I like that."

"Me too."

"Annie?"

"Yes, Elijah?"

"I love you."

He kissed her softly. Kissed life back into her.

The music played on, and for a few hours, it did seem like forever.

A.N.:

Wanted to put out a short Smoke/Annie fic to practice getting Annie's voice for another fic. I plan to write more about these two. How they met. Had their first child etc. This short is connected to my "Choose One" longer fic. You may recognize a speculative figure lurking in the story if you've started reading "Choose One." Enjoy!

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[girlinterupptedsblog]

After your fucked up date rafe grabs a chance to finally fuck his best friend

Pairing: bsf!rafe cameron x reader

Summary: after your fucked up date you came to rafe to whine how bad it was mad that you never got laid. He sees a chance and he grabs it as this was finally his chance to get you

Warnings: Smut (18+), unprotected sex, rough sex, size kink, overstimulation, dominance, slight degradation, bruising (grip marks), possessiveness, light dirty talk, swearing, mild aftercare, Rafe being a menace.

----

You didn’t even wait to take your heels off before stomping into Rafe’s room, flopping onto his bed with an exasperated sigh.

“God, Rafe. That was the worst date ever.”

Rafe shut the door behind you, leaning against it as he took in the sight of you sprawled out across his bed in your dress, legs still crossed at the ankles like you hadn’t even fully given up on the night.

He smirked, watching as you rubbed at your temples. “That bad, huh?”

“The worst,” you whined, rolling onto your side to face him. “He was so—ugh. First of all, he looked nothing like his pictures. I mean, the audacity—”

Rafe chuckled, already knowing where this was going. He’d heard it all before. He knew you. Knew the way you hyped up a date beforehand, always going on about how maybe this one would be the one that finally got you excited.

And then he got to hear all about the disaster afterward.

But this time felt different.

This time, you weren’t just annoyed. You were frustrated.

“He was boring,” you huffed, rolling onto your back again. “I mean, we talked for two hours, and I still don’t even know what he does for work. He just kept going on about his podcast.”

Rafe snorted. “Jesus.”

“I know,” you groaned, covering your face.

And then, quieter—

“And I didn’t even get laid.”

That made Rafe pause.

You peeked at him from between your fingers, lips twisting. “Like, that was the only reason I didn’t leave after ten minutes. I thought, maybe he’d be good for something. But no, I got all dressed up, sat through hours of him talking about some dumb sports podcast—and for what?”

Rafe swallowed hard, stepping closer. He could feel it—this was the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a teenager, since he first realized that the way he looked at you wasn’t exactly friendly.

You were vulnerable. Frustrated. Needy. And maybe, just maybe, if he played this right…

He sat beside you on the bed, his voice low. “Yeah? You that desperate, huh?”

You shot him a glare, slapping his arm. “Shut up, Rafe.”

But he was grinning now, stretching out beside you.

You huffed, turning onto your side to face him. “I just… I wanted to, you know? I was actually excited about tonight. And then it was just… nothing.”

Rafe hummed, eyes dragging over you—your flushed cheeks, your lips, the way your dress had ridden up your thigh. “That sucks,” he murmured, voice smooth. “Poor thing.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not,” he said, shifting so he was propped up on his elbow. He was close now. Too close. Close enough that you could feel his breath when he spoke. “I just think it’s a shame.”

Your brows furrowed, but you didn’t move away.

“A shame?”

Rafe tilted his head. “That some loser got to take you out all dressed up like this… just to waste your time.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of how hot his room was.

“Rafe…”

“What?” He smirked, voice dropping lower. “I mean, you could go home. Call it a night. Or…”

His fingers traced lightly over your thigh, just barely there.

“…You could let me make up for it.”

Your breath hitched. Your stomach flipped.

You didn’t even give yourself a chance to think before you leaned in, crashing your lips against Rafe’s.

There was no hesitation, no moment of contemplation. Just pure, raw want.

You were in his lap before he could react, straddling him with your hands gripping at his shirt, already tugging at the fabric like you couldn’t get it off fast enough. His hands went to your waist, squeezing instinctively as he groaned against your mouth, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

“Fuck,” he muttered as you yanked his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. His hands found your thighs, fingertips pressing into your skin as he looked up at you, pupils blown wide. “You sure about this?”

“Shut up, Rafe,” you breathed, grinding down just enough to make him hiss through his teeth.

One second, you were on top of him, taking what you wanted. The next, you were on your back, legs wrapped around his waist as he pinned you to the mattress, pressing his weight against you. His mouth found your neck, lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat as his hands roamed, touching every inch of exposed skin he could find.

“This what you wanted?” he murmured against your skin, teeth grazing your pulse. You whimpered, your fingers threading through his hair, tugging.

“Rafe—”

He grinned against your neck, one hand sliding up your thigh to push your dress higher. “Guess I should’ve made a move sooner, huh?”

You could barely form words, too focused on the way his hands felt, the way his body pressed against yours, the way he was looking at you like he’d been starving for this.

“Maybe,” you admitted breathlessly.

That made him chuckle, but it was low and dark, sending a shiver down your spine. “You have no fucking idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he murmured, lips ghosting over your jaw, your cheek, your lips. “How many times I’ve thought about you like this.”

You felt a rush of heat between your legs, your body reacting before your mind could even catch up.

“Then do something about it,” you challenged, voice barely above a whisper.

He was on you in an instant, lips crashing against yours, hands gripping your thighs as he spread them wider beneath him. You gasped against his mouth as he rocked his hips into yours, teasing, making you feel him even through the layers between you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, tilting your head back as his lips traveled lower, down your collarbone, down to the swell of your chest.

Rafe groaned, hands trailing up your sides, gripping your waist like he was trying to steady himself. “You’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, his voice rough, strained.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, breath coming in short gasps.

“Then don’t waste time,” you breathed.

---

You didn’t want anything between you.

You’d waited long enough, and from the way Rafe was looking at you—eyes dark, chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths—you knew he had, too.

Your hands fumbled to push his sweats down, dragging the fabric over his hips, and when he finally kicked them off, your breath hitched at the sight of him. Big wasn’t even the right word—he was thick, hard, and you swore your stomach flipped at the thought of him stretching you.

Rafe caught the way your lips parted, your eyes flickering down, and he grinned, smug as ever.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he murmured, gripping your chin, tilting your face up to his. “You getting nervous on me?”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “I want it.”

His eyes darkened.

“Yeah?” His thumb brushed over your lips. “Want me to ruin you, huh?”

You nodded, your body practically vibrating with anticipation.

He gripped your thighs, spreading them wider, lining himself up as he pressed his tip against your slick entrance. The sensation alone had your breath hitching, fingers clutching onto his arms, nails digging into his skin.

Rafe groaned, teasing you with shallow movements, his length just barely dipping inside before pulling back.

“Rafe,” you whined, hips bucking instinctively.

He chuckled, leaning down so his lips ghosted over your ear. “So impatient,” he murmured.

You let out a shaky breath, hands gripping onto his biceps. “Please.”

Without another word, Rafe thrust into you, filling you in one deep stroke that had your head snapping back against the pillows, a sharp gasp spilling from your lips.

“Fuck,” he groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he felt your walls stretch around him.

You weren’t just tight—you were suffocating, squeezing around him so perfectly it made him curse under his breath.

“Oh my god,” you choked out, eyes squeezing shut.

Rafe gave you only a second to adjust before he moved, setting a ruthless, unrelenting pace, pounding into you so deep it had you seeing stars.

Every thrust knocked the air from your lungs, pleasure and pain mixing in the most intoxicating way.

He was big—so much bigger than you’d ever had before—and the way he filled you, stretched you, made your toes curl and your nails rake down his back, desperate for something to hold onto.

“That’s it, baby,” Rafe groaned, gripping your hips so tight you were sure you’d bruise. “Taking me so fucking well.”

Your moans filled the room, breathless and high-pitched as he fucked you stupid, hitting spots that had you crying out.

Rafe grinned, watching the way your mouth fell open, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

“You like that?” he panted, thrusts never faltering.

You nodded, a strangled moan escaping your lips.

“Words, baby,” he growled, snapping his hips into you even harder.

“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form a coherent thought. “Yes—oh my god—Rafe—”

He was relentless, dragging you closer, angling his hips just right until—

“Fuck—” Your back arched off the bed, pleasure exploding through you as your orgasm hit, shattering through every nerve in your body.

Rafe groaned at the way your walls tightened around him, squeezing him like a vice as he fucked you through it, chasing his own release.

“Shit,” he panted, movements becoming erratic, and then—

With a deep, guttural moan, he spilled into you, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could, filling you with his release.

For a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your heavy breathing, the faint hum of the ceiling fan above you.

Your body was still trembling, the aftershocks making you shiver as Rafe finally slowed down, his chest pressed against yours.

He stayed there, buried deep, breathing heavily against your neck.

When you shifted, attempting to move, he tightened his grip, keeping you caged beneath him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he murmured, voice still husky.

You blinked up at him, still hazy. “I should probably—”

“No,��� Rafe cut you off, shaking his head.

You raised a brow. “No?”

He smirked, dipping his head to kiss your jaw.

“You’re not going home,” he murmured against your skin. “Not tonight.”

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Playing for Keeps

Fandom: Women's College Basketball (LSU, USC, UConn)

Pairing: Juju Watkins x Reader x Paige Bueckers

Rating: T (Teen)

Warnings: Heavy angst, jealousy, territorial behavior, unresolved tension, eventual poly relationship

Summary: Being close friends with both Juju Watkins and Paige Bueckers was already a lot to handle, but when they both caught feelings for me? It became a full-on war.

Both were competitive. Both were used to winning.

And both, apparently, had decided that I was worth fighting for.

"You sitting courtside for me, right?" Juju had asked, leaning against my desk in my LSU dorm like she had all the time in the world. "I need my number one supporter looking good in red and gold."

I opened my mouth to answer, but my phone buzzed.

Paige [4:35 PM]: Hope you’re packing some navy and white, ma. Can’t have you out here in Trojan colors. Wouldn't be a good look for you.

I groaned, tossing my phone onto my bed. Juju smirked.

"That her?"

"Don't start," I muttered.

Juju chuckled but didn’t say anything else. She didn’t have to. We both knew that she and Paige could barely stand to be in the same room, and the fact that I was friends with both of them only made it worse.

The game between USC and UConn was already set to be a battle. But for them, it wasn’t just about basketball.

It was about me.

Sitting courtside felt like sitting in the eye of a storm.

Juju was putting on a show—deep threes, crossovers that sent defenders stumbling, celebrations that felt just a little too directed at Paige.

Paige? Oh, she was taking it personally.

Every time she made a play, she looked at me. Every time she scored, she smirked like she was reminding me why she should be my favorite.

And then came the third quarter.

Paige went up for a layup. Juju was right there. They collided mid-air, and Paige hit the ground hard.

The whistle blew, but neither of them cared.

Paige shoved Juju’s shoulder as she stood up.

Juju shoved back.

And suddenly, they were chest to chest, jawing at each other.

I saw it before the refs did—the pure, reckless need to prove themselves.

Over me.

"Man, they’re really about to fight over you," Taylor muttered beside me.

I buried my face in my hands. "I hate them both."

"Sure you do," she laughed.

They both got hit with a tech. The game went on, but the tension never left.

Three days later, I was still recovering from the absolute embarrassment of watching my two best friends nearly get ejected because they couldn’t stop competing for my attention.

So when I heard a knock on my dorm room door, I should’ve known it was them.

What I didn’t expect?

For them to show up together.

I folded my arms. "Y’all better not have come here to argue in my dorm."

Paige sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We’re not."

Juju nodded. "We figured it out."

I blinked. "Figured what out?"

They exchanged a glance. Paige spoke first. "We’re gonna share you."

I stared. Then laughed. "Hilarious. Get out."

Neither of them moved.

Oh. They were serious.

Juju shrugged. "Look, we get it. You’re not gonna pick between us. And we’re not about to sit here and act like we don’t both want you."

Paige leaned against the doorframe, smirking. "So instead of fighting over you, we’re just gonna make it work. Together."

My head was spinning. "You—what?"

Juju smirked. "What, you can handle both of us, right?"

Paige grinned. "Or are we too much for you, ma?"

I glared at them. "I hate y’all."

Paige tilted my chin up. "No, you don’t."

The worst part?

She was right.

I thought the madness would end after they worked things out.

I was wrong.

Because now, instead of fighting over me, they were ganging up on me.

And that’s how I ended up at my lacrosse game, standing on the field, watching both of them sit front row in LSU gear.

They looked way too comfortable. Juju was leaning back in her seat like she owned the place. Paige had her feet propped up on the railing, arms crossed like she was analyzing my every move.

Taylor, sitting on the bench beside me, snorted. "Yeah, that’s not normal."

"Tell me about it," I muttered.

The game hadn’t even started yet, but they were already making themselves known.

Juju cupped her hands around her mouth. "Yo, baby, don’t let me down out there!"

Paige smirked. "She never lets me down, Watkins. She’s built different."

Juju scoffed. "Please, she’s my girl too. We’ll see who she winks at first when she scores."

I groaned, dragging my hands down my face. "I’m actually gonna die."

Taylor patted my back. "Nah, girl, you’re just stuck between two of the craziest ballers in the country."

"That’s supposed to make me feel better?"

She shrugged. "You picked them."

I sighed. "No, they picked me. And now I have to deal with—"

The ref blew the whistle, signaling the start of the game.

And before I even ran onto the field, Paige and Juju were already yelling for me.

Loudly.

Taylor smirked. "Yeah, you’re never escaping them."

After the game, I barely made it to the locker room before Juju and Paige cornered me.

Juju draped an arm around my shoulder. "Not bad, superstar. But next time, point at me when you score, yeah?"

Paige scoffed. "Oh, so you didn’t see her looking at me after that goal?"

I groaned. "Can y’all not?"

Juju grinned. "Nah. We’re invested in your career now, babe."

Paige smirked. "Exactly. We gotta make sure our girl knows we’re here for her."

I exhaled. They were never gonna let me live this down.

Taylor walked past, shaking her head. "Man, y’all are something else."

Paige and Juju high-fived.

I sighed.

This was my life now.

And honestly?

Maybe I didn’t mind it so much.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

       -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[thanksbutno98]

Power Tools

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price has become expertly good at ignoring his wife, until she finds something he can’t ignore.

Warnings: Domestic argument, swearing, mentions of pregnancy, not edited.

——————

“Joooohn” your voice carried throughout the house as you whined for your husband.

There was silence in return until you heard the television volume turned up loud enough you could now hear it from where you stood upstairs. You swore your eye twitched and the vein by your forehead pulsed visibly in annoyance.

You wanted to kill him.

John had turned into a procrastinator this past week for some unknown reason. Well, you knew why but he wouldn’t admit to it. The man hated decorating to his very core and would find any excuse to avoid it. Thats why you were the one who tended to paint rooms and set out new vases and art throughout the house. John would grumble that he liked it better before you made changes but you always ignored him.

If it were left up to John your home would turn into a museum, never to be altered or updated; a snapshot of life frozen in time. You were not the same. Change felt good, natural, fresh.

With a baby boy about to join your home you felt that there was a need for some freshness, especially in his nursery. All the natural wood furniture was set up and placed exactly where you wanted it. The walls were painted a soothing muted yellow and the juniper green rug was laid out in the center of the room. What was left were the Winnie the Pooh art pieces you picked out and gold rods for the silky white drapes. You also needed to mount the bookcase to the wall because it was at risk to fall over if tugged on hard enough.

“Fuck it. I don’t need a man. I can do this myself.” You mumbled to yourself and stormed downstairs as much as you were capable of at 8 months pregnant.

Once at the bottom of the stairs you caught sight of your infuriating husband. John was laid back on the couch, his back and shoulders propped up by pillows. He had his right arm thrown behind his head and his left hand deep in a bag of crisps that laid on his stomach. He wore black athletic shorts, mid calf white socks, and a long sleeve navy blue shirt, looking like the definition of comfort.

The television was loudly blasting some action movie he decided was much more important than helping you. You let out an annoyed, obnoxious breath as you waddled by which seemed to catch John’s attention.

“Darling, join me.” John called to you but all he got was you walking away down the hall. It was obvious you were mad at him but he honestly didn’t want to deal with it at the moment.

“I’ll rub your feet.” His tone was seductive as if this was enough to persuade you from your prior task.

John watched you falter halfway down the hallway. You clearly were giving it a thought and then were quickly making your way towards the basement. With an eye roll John went back to watching his movie in peace. Your normal sweetness was hard to find on days like today when you had opposing plans to him. So John thought it was best to avoid you to save himself the scolding.

You grabbed the power drill and tool box from the basement and headed back upstairs. You didn’t bother hiding it from view of John but he was too absorbed in his movie to notice. If you could read John’s mind you would find he was thinking about how to ask about dinner without sending you into a fit.

Once upstairs you set everything you would need out and grabbed the step stool from the hallway closet. You took the time to measure and draw a perfect line on the wall in pencil so the large painting would be level and centered. Smiling triumphantly you grabbed the power drill since this piece of art was on the heavy side and needed to be anchored.

Whirling the power drill a few times you were satisfied that it worked and then you climbed on to the step stool. Before you knew it you heard heavy footsteps bounding up the stairs and John call out your name. Not giving it any attention you continued with your task until you had the drill yanked from your hand.

“Hey!” You snapped at John who was now standing next to you with the bright yellow power drill in hand.

“Get down before you break your neck.” John ordered looking utterly annoyed at you.

The sound of the power drill had John rocketing up from his seat on the couch. It half startled him and had him coming to the realization you weren’t going to wait for him. If you weren’t so clumsy John doubted he would react so viscerally but having seen you wield a hammer he had no trust in you with a power drill.

“No! Give it back.” You swatted the hand John had outstretched for you away and grabbed the power drill. Yanking roughly, John wouldn’t let go.

“Enough. Get down and let me do it.” Again another gruff order from your husband that only infuriated you more.

You didn’t need him for this, you were more than capable; at least you thought you were. John had also shown no interest and now shows up trying to help? Not on your watch. You didn’t need him to pity help you now, you wanted his help when you asked for it.

“Give it.” With much more force you yanked again only for John to pull it back. Your grip didn’t let up and the two of you struggled over the power drill until you realized there was no way you were getting it back. That John had it in a death grip and he had you outmatched in strength.

“Fine!” You shouted and let go abruptly.

John had been mid tug and the loss of your force pulling it away from him had the drill springing back in John’s grip and clocking him in his right eyebrow. He stumbled back a single step, his free hand coming up and clutching his forehead.

“Fuckin’ hell.” John half shouted mainly from the pain. The drill hit him right on the bone so it made an audible crack when it connected.

As soon as John was struck your hands flew to cover your mouth in shock. Him getting hurt was not your intention and you instantly felt bad for fighting with him. Normally you would never stoop to that level of childishness to actually fight over an object; like two little kids wrestling over a toy.

“See what you’ve done!” John’s eyes were fiery as he doubled down and snapped at you.

His reaction toward you had all the sympathy draining from you and you were ready to fight again. No one yelled at you, especially not John. And you were ready to make him pay for being so rude to you.

“Serves you right for snatching it from me!” You shouted back. John’s nostrils flared and you could see he wanted to tear into you but was practicing some self restraint.

“For the love of god, get down, and let me do this.” Grabbing your hand John didn’t give you much of an option as he lead you off the step stool, the hand with the drill pushing on your back lightly to force you down the stool.

“Fine. But I’m still mad at you.” The snarkiness in your voice was met with a dry laugh. John had his back to you and was squaring up to start drilling in the anchors for the painting.

“Poor thing.” John answered back sarcastically.

The pair of you were both fuming, anger radiating off of you making the room feel suffocating. You two didn’t tend to fight, let alone like this. It was one of the most juvenile ways you had ever bickered but for some reason you couldn’t stop.

“If anything’s crooked I’m gonna lose it!” You half shouted your warning as you stormed out of the room.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all be up to your incredibly high standards, your majesty!” John shouted right back only to hear your bedroom door slam.

——————

A light knock sounded on your bedroom door and a moment later it slowly opened. John’s head poked in to see you sat up in the center of your king sized bed. You had your arms crossed over your chest and an annoyed look plastered across your face as you watched the history channel.

“Darling-“

“Thought it was ‘your majesty.’” You shot back.

John cringed at your words, hating that you quoted him from your previous argument. It wasn’t the nicest insult to hurl your way but it also wasn’t that bad in John’s opinion. You could be incredibly particular at times, so if anything he thought it was quite a clever thing to call you.

With a sigh John decided not to answer right away. He made his way into your shared room taking note how you were eyeing him from the corner of your eye, not willing to fully look at him. Slowly John got on to your bed and began to crowd your space by crawling over to you. Turning your head away, you refused to give him attention. So John got on top of you, straddling your knees and leaning forward so your faces were close together. Only you were turned away trying to keep yourself from cracking into a smile and hold on to the bratty attitude.

“I love you.” John spoke matter of factly.

“Yeah?” The fake bratty tone had John chuckling. He found you to be so cute.

The fight from earlier was a childish one and John had asked himself if arguing with his pregnant wife like that was seriously worth it. He decided it wasn’t and that you two needed to burry the hatchet. In retrospect it was comical that either of you reacted in the ways you did. It was completely out of character.

“I hung everything up just how you wanted. Mounted the bookcase to the wall. Even ordered your favorite takeaway for dinner.” John purred and watched you soften like puddy in his hand.

“I’m not hungry.” You mumbled only to be betrayed by your grumbling stomach.

John’s breath ghosting your face and neck was making you weaken and ready to crumble. You were past being mad at him and honestly wanted to move on so you could cuddle and watch a movie.

“That’s a lie.” John countered. Leaning in he pressed his forehead against yours and smiled widely when you finally turned to him and broke into a playful snicker.

“I love you.” John cooed, a chuckle rumbling from his burly chest.

“I love you too.” With a smile you showed off how your sour mood had left you.

“Can we kiss and make up?” John nodded as he spoke which had you mimicking the action.

“As long as you agree we were both out of line.” Putting your finger in John’s face he smirked and leaned back to sit on his heels.

“Fair enough. I’m sorry.” It was an easy sorry that rolled off the tongue.

“I’m sorry too, John.” You apologized just as easily and then the two of you shared a sweet kiss.

“Now, enough with the pouting. Let me show you how wonderful the nursery looks. You picked out some amazing things.” Rolling off of you John was swiftly on his feet and offering you a hand to help you out of bed.

“You really think so?” The compliment had you blushing since John usually hated any change in interior decoration.

“Yes, it’s perfect.”

——————

“Joooohn!” You called form your bedroom knowing for a fact he could hear you. This was the third time you had called his name only to be ignored.

You knew he was ignoring you because he didn’t feel like helping you order his sister’s birthday present. He had flippantly told you since you were a woman you knew best on what to get his little sister. Then he retreated to the living room where he seemingly went deaf.

A lightbulb buzzed to life above your head. Tiptoeing to the nursery you saw the power drill and brought it back to your bedroom. Sitting back on your bed and smiling like the devil you whirled the drill a few times and waited. Just like before you heard the thunder of footsteps bounding up the stairs to come see what you were doing.

John burst into your bedroom ready to steal whatever task you were doing and do it himself. Only he saw you sitting in the center of your bed with the power drill in one hand and your laptop open in front of you.

“So this is how I get you to stop ignoring me.” Shaking the drill at John you tossed it behind you on the bed.

John’s face dropped from worry to deadpan. He did not like being made a fool of and here he was falling into his wife’s playful little trap. He could admit it was quite clever of you.

“You’re joking.” John huffed out in annoyance.

“Since you’re here, help me pick out a gift for Sarah.” You motioned to your laptop with a cheeky smile. John simply rolled his eyes and flopped down on the bed next to you ready to see what you had pulled up.

You and that power drill would do this trick for years to come. Until one day you realized John had hidden it from you so you were forced to go out and buy your own; which too went missing. So now you use whatever power tool you can get your hands on or even start hammering to get your husband’s instant undivided attention.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

@exhaustedpotat0 @glitterypirateduck @ivymarquis @crazymela @what-0-life @boredfairy4 @hihhasotherfixations @stephanswhxre @shanjisan @k4es @luvleywrites @kita03-0 @midwesternwitchery @aleynaleia @suckerforbassist @misshoneypaper @theaonlax @blackstar9005 @tooterbutt @havoc973 @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @freshlemontea @cosmoscoffeee @sae1kie @ohworm-writes @ghostslittlegf @fanficwriterlover @arminarlertssword @faceache111 @azu21 @thirstyb-ches @nini-11-08 @sgtgarricks @kiki-is-hyperfixating @mayflysdie

[mydarlingclaudia]

I could be mom (unless you want to be dad)

note : divider is from @/grlselle. handful of paragraphs before smut sowwy. I also just wrote this spur of the moment because I finally had a bit of motivation and this is the winner of that poll I did last week and I was bored so the smut isn't that long and I'm remembering that I never really knew how to write smut soooo. mdni

wc : 1.4k

tags : @lottiies @luvrgreyy

desc : whiny husband. smut!! - unprotected p in v, riding. established relationship, little bit of fingers in mouth whoopsie, you've got a daughter, fem!reader, vendetta!Leon, not proofread

You unbuckle your daughter’s seatbelt and pick her up out of her booster seat, housing her up onto your hip while you straighten your purse on your shoulder and walk to the front door. Leon’s motorcycle is propped up on its kickstand in the driveway, you didn’t know he was supposed to be back yet. He told you he’d be getting home late, but you got home later than him, apparently. At least your daughter wouldn’t jump up on him now that you’re home, she’s out cold, he’s probably drunk or asleep.

New York had been hard on him. You were upset enough when he told you he was going to Colorado for a week three days beforehand, but having him come home and tell you he didn’t even get to relax as much as he wished because he got pulled into work just made you annoyed. You loved your husband, truly, but he could piss you off like no one else. You know his work is messy, you know he can’t be around all the time, you know he’d rather ease his problems by drinking rather than opening up to you. And you know he's trying to protect you and your daughter, you just can't really help but want something normal.

Maybe you had to work on actually planning things with him, though. Dinner was often between five and nine p.m., you and Leon haven’t been on a date night in like, what, a year now? You know it’s not about him not being attracted to you, your schedules are just so busy that there hasn’t really been enough time for the two of you to go out on a dinner date or something like that.

The house is dark when you step inside, you don’t smell any alcohol, either. You kick off your shoes and take your daughters off as well before you put your keys into the tiny bowl on the kitchen counter, you’re not going to bother to change your daughter into her pajamas, she’s already in shorts and a shirt, that’s good enough and you’re tired, anyway.

Her room is always messy, you’re lucky you don’t trip over any toys even when you turn on the light. You spend maybe ten seconds tucking her in and kissing her cheek before you shut off her light and head to your bedroom, Leon’s asleep on the bed, he doesn’t even smell like beer, which is a good thing.

Leon always looks more peaceful when he’s sleeping, you wish you had offered for him to come over to your friend’s house with you and your daughter tonight, maybe letting him rest was good, though. So you change into pajamas and lay next to Leon, who instantly stirs.

“Hm…?” Leon murmurs when you wrap your arm around him.

“It’s me,” You whisper against his bare shoulder, you immediately feel him relax.

“When’d you get back?”

“A few minutes ago.”

“Have fun?”

“Mhm,” You press a kiss to his shoulder blade, he hums and readjusts the pillow under his head before he finally decides it's to his liking and rests against it again. "Love you."

"Love you, too." You hardly hear him say it, but you squeeze him a bit tighter, hearing the soft chuckle he lets out before he falls back asleep a few seconds later.

—

You and Leon shift around in bed a lot at night, you're never in the same position you went to sleep in when you get up in the morning.

Tonight, though, you wake up to Leon grinding against your hip at one in the morning. You're not mad, he was doing it in his sleep, anyway. Doesn't stop you from waking him up and climbing on top of him after you pull his boxers down.

"Christ, Leon, shut the fu-fuck up!" You hiss at him, continuing to slowly ease yourself up and down on his cock. You've never heard him so whiny before, could've been because the two of you haven't had sex in a little bit.

"C-Can't help i-it-" He gasps out, digging his fingers into the plump flesh of your hips while he bucks up into you. You've been doing this for maybe five minutes now, trying to tell him to be quiet and that you aren't forgetting his needs, but his face is so flushed and his chest is heaving and you can't really tell if he's even trying to do as you say.

His mouth remains open as he continues to let more and more lewd noises escape his throat whenever you sink back down onto him, you don't know how he isn't getting cramps in his hands from gripping onto you so tightly.

But you continue on, squeezing around him tightly because it made him feel even better inside of you. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, your eyes screwing shut while Leon's stay glued to where you're joined, watching as your cunt sucks him in over and over again.

His expression is nothing but pleading and needy and you're so in love with it, your hands rest on the soft fat of his pecs, his trembling hands can't stay in one spot anymore.

"Sweetheart, God, p-please." Leon's voice only gets louder and you have to shush him again, your eyes staying open long enough to shoot him an angry glare.

"If you wake her up-"

"I won't!" He cuts you off, his hips bucking against yours again while his head falls back against his pillow. You're probably not much quieter than him, hearing him whine and moan only triggers something in your brain that makes you mimic him, and there's the soft plap plap of your bodies to go along with it.

You've tried kissing him to swallow up his moans, but your mouths never stay connected for long due to lack of oxygen or he just can't hold your head in place. But his lips are still glossy with his drool and yours, and there's a few hickeys on his neck that he'll stare at for the next handful of days to come.

You know he's close, you're not far behind. Though, you know that when he cums he won't shut up.

But you continue to push your hips up and down, trying to keep your eyes from rolling back when you sink down onto him fully. It only adds more fuel for him to get increasingly louder, muttering about how good you feel and how he needs to cum inside you.

A few more thrusts and he'll be done, you know it. So before he can wake up the whole neighborhood, you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you so you can kiss him. You know that's not enough, of course. So when you pull away from him, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen lips to his, you push two fingers into his open mouth, trying to not his the back of his throat. Leon waits for only a second before he realizes, biting down on the base of your fingers lightly only to then suck on them.

And you're right, as always. After a few more thrusts he cums inside you, moaning around your fingers. The sight of his drool coating your knuckles and eyes lidded with pleasure almost does it for you, but you meet your own release after you raise yourself up to get him balls-deep a few more times.

You sit there on top of him for a few more minutes, looking up at your ceiling while you catch your breath. Leon has yet to tip his head back and slide your fingers from his mouth, trying to catch his breath, same as you.

You're the one to pull away from him, he looks a little annoyed when you pull your fingers out of his mouth and wipe some of the spit onto his chest, but you know he loved everything the two of your just did. Leon smiles at you after a few seconds, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you down onto him for a kiss.

"When did you get so whiny?" You whisper against his lips, then press a few soft kisses there.

"Don't tell anyone," You snort and pull back from him, your hand cups his cheek and he smiles against your palm.

"I wouldn't, that's only for me, right?"

"Only for you,"

[pankowcrumbs]

Premier X Joseph Quinn

MasterList

Joseph Quinn Masterlist

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

The flashing lights were relentless.

I’d been to a few red carpets before mostly for work, usually lowkey but nothing like this. This was Warfare. One of the most anticipated war dramas of the year. Joe’s biggest film to date. And I was here… not for work. Not on the sidelines. I was here with him.

I adjusted the silky fabric of my dress, trying to keep a natural smile on my face as the photographers shouted Joe’s name over and over again. His hand tightened gently around mine.

“You alright?” he leaned in and murmured near my ear.

I nodded, eyes scanning the crowd. “Just… a bit overwhelming.”

His brows creased instantly. “You sure? We can go slower. Or step aside for a bit.”

Bless him. I hadn’t realised how tightly he was gripping my hand until I tried to flex my fingers.

“I’m okay,” I said, giving him a smile. “I’m just not used to this many cameras.”

Joe turned toward me slightly, using his frame to shield me from the majority of the chaos as he whispered, “You look bloody perfect, by the way. Proper showstopper.”

That made me grin. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He smiled bashfully and pressed a kiss to the side of my temple. The cameras definitely caught that.

“Joe, over here!” someone shouted. “With the missus!”

He chuckled under his breath. “Think they’ve already decided we’re married.”

“You mean we’re not?” I teased.

He turned to look at me, eyes twinkling. “Don’t tempt me, darling.”

Before I could reply, a security man gestured for us to move further down the carpet. Joe kept a hand on the small of my back, guiding me gently, constantly checking that I was alright. Every few metres, a flash would go off right in my face, and I’d blink against it, trying not to look startled.

At one point, a cameraman stepped back without looking straight into me. I stumbled, and before I could even react, Joe’s arm was around me, steadying me.

“Oi!” Joe barked, voice sharper than I’d ever heard. “Watch where you’re bloody going!”

The man turned, looking sheepish.

“She alright?” someone asked.

“She will be,” Joe snapped, pulling me in close. “Jesus she’s not a prop, lads. Give her some bloody space.”

The crowd quietened for a beat. Joe’s eyes scanned me with concern.

“You okay, love?” he asked again, softer now, hands on my shoulders.

“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Really. Just a bit shaken.”

He looked like he wanted to murder someone.

“I told you we could’ve stayed in bed,” he muttered, thumb brushing under my jaw. “Could’ve watched the premiere from the telly. I don’t give a toss about the photos.”

“You’ve worked too hard on this film,” I said. “I’m not letting you do this alone.”

His expression softened. “You’re mad.”

“You love it.”

“I really do,” he murmured, then pressed another kiss to my cheek, possessive and tender all at once.

Once we got through the main gauntlet of flashing lights and shouting, we were ushered into the press section. He did a few interviews, holding my hand between questions. I mostly stood to the side, offering him smiles when he glanced over, which was… often. It made the nerves flutter in my stomach, the way he’d reach for me without thinking, like he needed me nearby.

Eventually, a voice called out, “Joe! The lads are waiting for you by the main theatre entrance!”

He turned to me, smiling wide now. “C’mon. You’ve got to meet the boys.”

“Think they’ll like me?”

“Oh, they’ll bloody adore you,” he said confidently. “Mainly ‘cause I’ve done nothing but talk about you.”

I laughed, but my cheeks were burning. “You have not.”

“You’ll see,” he said, leading me toward the inner part of the venue.

The other Warfare cast members were grouped together, all laughing and sipping from flutes of champagne. When they spotted Joe, a cheer went up.

“Quinn!” shouted one of them Charles, I recognised him from the trailers. “There he is! And this must be the elusive Y/N!”

I was immediately wrapped in a bear hug.

“Oh my God hello!” I laughed, barely able to breathe.

“Mate, he’s always talking about you,” said another, who I realised was Will, the guy who played Joe’s closest mate in the film. “We feel like we know you already. It’s actually a bit mental.”

“Obsessed, honestly,” chimed in another. “Won’t shut up.”

Joe groaned. “Alright, alright she’s here now, isn’t she?”

Kit grinned. “We’ve got to make sure she’s real!”

“I am real,” I said, laughing. “Unless you’re all hallucinating me.”

Charles gave me another side hug. “You’re brilliant. You’ve kept him grounded, haven’t you?”

Will nodded. “We’ve never seen him like this. Man’s all soft now. Smiles at his phone like he’s sixteen.”

Joe just rolled his eyes, cheeks pink. “Glad you lot are getting it out of your system now.”

I tucked myself under Joe’s arm, half out of affection and half because I could feel another crowd of cameras gathering.

“Right,” Joe said, addressing them all, “we’ve got to sit down soon, but be nice, yeah?”

“Joe,” I said, nudging him.

He looked down at me and gave me a smile that just melted me completely. “I know, darling.”

Another photographer leaned in a bit too close again, camera inches from my face. I instinctively took a step back, bumping into Joe’s side. His arm came up instantly, blocking the lens.

“Back up a bit, yeah?” he said to the guy, voice low but firm. “No need to get in her face.”

“Let them get their photos,” I whispered, tugging gently at his sleeve.

“Not when they’re shoving lenses at you,” he muttered, glaring.

The others watched him with amused expressions.

“Told you,” Will said to Kit. “Soft and protective.”

Joe scowled at them but still held me close.

After a few more minutes, we were ushered inside for the screening. Joe kept a hand on my back the entire time we moved through the crowd, whispering in my ear, “Step here… watch your foot… you okay, love?”

It was honestly adorable. And slightly hilarious given that I’d managed fine on my own for years before him.

Inside the theatre, the lights dimmed and the movie began. Joe held my hand the entire time. At one point, I glanced at him during an especially intense scene, and I could see him watching me, waiting for my reaction. His thumb brushed the back of my hand when the screen faded to black.

When the credits rolled, the audience burst into applause.

I turned to him, eyes wide. “Joe, that was… incredible.”

He looked slightly stunned, like he couldn’t quite believe it was over. “Yeah?”

“You were phenomenal. I’m so proud of you.”

He swallowed hard, squeezing my hand. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“You were the one on screen, Joe.”

“Yeah, but you were the one who held me after 14-hour days. And kept my feet on the ground when I was spiralling.”

My heart swelled.

We stood to leave, and as we made our way out, someone called his name again for a post-screening interview. He glanced at me, clearly torn.

“Go,” I said. “I’ll wait by the bar.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

He kissed my forehead and murmured, “Back in a sec, love.”

I watched him walk off, handsome in his dark suit, chatting easily, answering questions with grace. But his eyes kept flicking back to find me.

After the interview, he made a beeline for me, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind.

“Let’s go home,” he murmured into my hair. “I’ve had enough fame for one night.”

“Thought you loved it,” I teased.

He nuzzled closer. “I love you. Everything else is noise.”

We slipped out the side exit with help from security. Joe pulled off his jacket and wrapped it around my shoulders.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tucking into his side as the night air chilled my skin.

“For what?” he asked.

“For being you.”

He smiled and opened the car door for me, helping me in like the total gentleman he always was.

As we drove off, I looked over at him, the city lights glowing on his face.

“You know,” I said softly, “you were kind of a hero in that film.”

“Acting,” he said with a wink. “Smoke and mirrors.”

“But out there… when that guy bumped into me? You were real then.”

He paused. Then reached for my hand. “I’ll always be real with you.”

[butterfly-lies-chase-them-away]

Daddy Issues - Johnny Seo x Reader

Now Playing: » Daddy Issues « The Neighbourhood 3:27 ─────〇─ 4:16 ⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻

Pairing: Johnny x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 15,382 Total Word Count: 49,636 Part 3 of 3 (Part 1) (Part 2) -

Playlist Masterlist NCT Masterlist

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, cunnilingus, mating press, pet names), Age Gap, minor angst, not bad but not great relationship with dad

Summary: 🎵 Go ahead and cry, little girl Nobody does it like you do I know how much it matters to you I know that you got daddy issues 🎵 or No one makes Y/n feel more rejected that her father. That's what leads her to seek friendship with a bartender

A/N: bloody finALLY FINISHED!! I am literally at work as I post all of these, lol I am so sorry it took this long to publish this fic, I did not expect it to take this song, but I am so glad to have it done now, lol Anyways, I hope you enjoy this last part 💚

-

Johnny had texted her earlier in the evening. The message was short and simple.

I’m at work and it’s dead here. I’m bored out of my mind.

It didn’t take much for Y/n to offer to swing by and keep him company. After all, she wasn’t doing anything important, and Johnny always had a way of making her nights a little more interesting.

That’s how she found herself sitting at the far end of the bar, drink a dry lemonade with lime cordial while Johnny wiped down the counter. 

The place was nearly empty, other than a couple of regulars. Music played softly in the background, just loud enough to fill the silence without overwhelming it.

Johnny leaned his elbows on the bar in front of her, a grin tugging at his lips. “You didn’t have to come, you know. I was more than happy to just text you.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah, well, I figured you’d find a way to rope me into coming over eventually. Might as well make it easy for you.”

He laughed, that low, easy sound that made it hard not to smile. “What can I say? I’m persuasive.”

God, his smile mad her head roll.

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it now?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, you’re here, aren’t you?” He gave her a wink before straightening up and heading toward the other side as a new customer wandered in. “Hold that thought,” he said over his shoulder, his voice light.

Y/n watched him work, effortlessly slipping into bartender mode, greeting the customer, pouring a drink, and making casual conversation as usual. 

When he returned, he placed his hands on the counter again, leaning slightly toward her. “Alright, where were we?”

“Me being the only salvation for your boredom,” she said.

Johnny tilted his head in mock offense. “Wow. I invite you to my workplace for free drinks and entertainment, and this is the respect I get?”

Y/n chuckled. “Free fizzy. Score!”

“Still counts.” He chuckled.

The night continued like that, easy banter and light-hearted teasing. As another hour passed, Y/n propped her chin on her hand, watching as Johnny restocked the shelves behind the bar. 

“So, how long until you’re done here?” she asked, glancing at the clock.

“About an hour, give or take,” he said, turning around to face her. “Why, tired already?”

“Nope, just wondering if you wanna grab something to eat after.”

Johnny smiled. “You gonna try pay this time?”

Y/n sat up straighter. “Fucking right, I am.” 

“We’ll see,” he said with a laugh before adding, “But yeah, that sounds good.”

And as Y/n sat there, watching Johnny work and listening to the low hum of music. It wasn’t a big night out or anything fancy, but sometimes, these were the best nights. 

As the clock struck midnight and the last of the bar’s patrons filtered out, Johnny flipped the sign on the door to Closed and locked up.

Y/n leaned back in her seat, watching as he went through the motions of shutting everything down, cleaning glasses, wiping down the bar, and double-checking the till. 

“Damn, you’re fast,” Y/n said, watching him place the last glass on the shelf.

“You learn how to close up quick when all you wanna do is get out and eat.” He shot her a grin before grabbing his jacket from behind the bar and slinging it over his shoulder. “Speaking of which, you still up for grabbing something?”

Y/n hopped off her chair. “Depends. Where are we going? Everything’s probably closed by now.”

Johnny glanced at the time on his phone and shrugged. “Yeah, nothing proper’s open this late, but…” He paused, giving her a knowing look. “I know a spot. It’s this little 24-hour fried chicken place. Greasy, messy, and definitely not gourmet, but it’s good. What do you say?”

Y/n’s stomach rumbled at the mention of food. “I’m down.”

“Let’s go.” He opened the door for her, locking it behind them once she stepped out. 

The night air was crisp, a faint chill brushing against their skin as they made their way to Johnny’s car parked out back. The ride was calm, the city around them dim and sleepy, with only the occasional streetlight illuminating their path. 

A few minutes later, Johnny pulled up in front of a small joint with a neon sign that read Fried & True - Open 24/7. Despite the hour, the place still had a cozy, welcoming vibe, with warm light spilling out onto the pavement.

They got out, and as Johnny locked the car, he gave Y/n a glance. “This chicken is, no joke, the best you’ll ever try.”

Y/n laughed. “Big promises for fried chicken.”

“Hey, this is very serious for me,” Johnny said, clearly joking.

Inside, the smell of crispy fried goodness filled the air. Y/n looked around the little store and smiled. When Johnny was about to approach the counter, Y/n rushed in front.

“Ah! No, you sit your ass down, you ain’t paying for this!” Y/n pointed to a table off to the side.

Johnny huffed out a chuckle before walking over to take a seat. Looking up at the menu, Y/n chose three different flavours of chicken and some chips to go.

As Y/n made her way over to the table, Johnny leaned back in his seat, eyes half-lidded but still full of that lazy charm. “So, did hanging out at the bar beat whatever else you had planned tonight?”

Y/n snorted. “You mean staying home doing fuck all? Yeah, you win.”

“Well, yeah. I was always gonna win.” He jested. “I’m pretty good company?”

“I don’t know,” Y/n teased, resting her chin in her hand. “You did trick me into hanging out at an empty bar for hours.”

“And now you get to hang out with me, that’s a pretty good deal,” Johnny shot back.

Before Y/n could respond, their food arrived, neatly packed in to-go boxes. Johnny grabbed the bag and held the door open for her as they stepped back outside. 

The ride back was quiet, Y/n rested her head against the window, content with how the night had turned out. Soon, they arrived at Johnny’s apartment. He parked, grabbed the bag of food, and led the way up.

Inside, Y/n made herself comfortable on the couch while Johnny disappeared briefly into the kitchen, returning with plates and drinks. 

He set everything down on the coffee table and handed her a plate.

“After this, you’ll never think of another fried chicken again,” he joked, opening the to-go box.

Y/n laughed, grabbing a piece of chicken. “I don’t doubt it.”

They ate together, the conversation flowing easily between bites. Johnny put on some show in the background, creating a relaxed atmosphere. The food was exactly as good as Johnny had promised.

“We should do this more often,” Y/n said, leaning back against the couch.

Johnny grinned, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Told you. Stick around, and I’ll introduce you to all the best things.”

Y/n chuckled, finishing off the last of her fries. Johnny leaned back in his seat as his gaze rested on Y/n, his expression calm but thoughtful. 

Y/n met his eyes, and for a moment, she felt that familiar flutter in her chest. Her mind drifted back to that night at the club, the things he’d said, the way he’d looked at her, the intensity behind his words.

Her heart dropped. It hadn’t left her mind since.

Shifting slightly in her seat and lowering her eyes to the floor, Y/n hesitated before speaking. “Uh, Johnny…”

“Yes, Y/n?” he responded, his eyes searched hers curiously.

“Do you…remember what you said to me at the club the other week?” she asked, her voice quieter now, uncertain.

Johnny’s posture stiffened just slightly, his gaze falling to his hands. He shifted in his seat, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. 

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, his voice low. “I remember.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart racing. “Can you…explain what you meant?”

She didn’t want to tiptoe around it anymore. His words had been replaying in her mind all week, how he said he’d make her feel special, feel good, feel worthy.

But that night, they’d both been under the influence of alcohol, and she wanted clarity, wanted to hear it from him while they were both sober.

Johnny sighed, running a hand through his hair as if trying to figure out where to begin. “Yeah…you should know,” he said, his tone softening. 

He leaned back into the couch, settling in as if preparing himself for a long explanation. “My dad…left me and my mum when I was young.”

Y/n’s brows furrowed in confusion. What? 

“I was probably five or six when he walked out on us…I never knew where he went, but he still sent money to my mum every now and then,” Johnny said, his voice quiet, distant.

Y/n blinked, trying to process what he was saying. What on earth was he talkin–

Shit.

Suddenly, it hit her. Johnny had briefly mentioned at the club how he could relate to her daddy issues. Her heart sank as she remembered that moment. 

She hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but now, seeing the pain on his face, she realised how deeply it ran. Her face dropped, filled with sorrow as she listened.

“I hated him,” Johnny admitted, his voice growing heavier. “He ruined my life without even being in it.” 

His jaw clenched, and he looked away for a second, as though trying to keep himself composed. “Then when I was seventeen, I got news from my mum that…he died.”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her gaze falling to Johnny’s hands. She noticed the slight tremor in them and how his eyes glistened, the emotions he tried to bury rising to the surface. Without thinking, she reached out and gently took his hand in hers, squeezing it in silent support.

“I didn’t cry when he left at first,” Johnny continued, his voice breaking slightly. 

“But when I found out he was dead, I couldn’t stop. That’s when I realised...I would never have a father present in my life. Not even the hope of one.” His voice cracked, and before Y/n could say anything, tears began to roll down his cheeks.

Y/n didn’t hesitate. She launched forward and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Johnny didn’t resist, instead, he let himself fall into her comfort, his broad shoulders trembling as he broke down.

Y/n had never seen Johnny like this before. He was always the strong one, the one who picked up her broken emotions, who made things better with his happy nature and warm presence. But now, here he was, vulnerable and raw, the weight of years of buried pain finally catching up to him.

“It’s okay, Johnny,” she whispered, gently running her hand through his hair. “You don’t have to hold it all in anymore. I’m here.”

He clung to her like she was the only thing grounding him at that moment, his tears dampening her shirt, but she didn’t care. All she cared about was being there for him, the way he’d always been there for her.

Minutes passed, and slowly, Johnny’s sobs began to fade. His breathing steadied, but he didn’t loosen his grip on Y/n. He clung to her as he released the emotions he’d kept buried for so long.

Y/n rested her chin on his shoulder, her hand rubbing slow circles on his back. She remembered how many times Johnny had comforted her, his words, his comfort, the way he always seemed to know what to say to make things better. Now, it was her turn.

“You know,” she began softly, her voice low but steady, “you are so amazing. You’ve grown up to be an amazing man. That fuckhead missed out on a wonderful son.”

Johnny’s breath hitched slightly, but he stayed silent, listening.

“You always make things better for me,” Y/n continued. “Whenever I felt like I couldn’t handle things, you were there. You didn’t judge me, didn’t ask for anything in return. You just stayed. And that helped more than you know.”

She pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I will always be here for you when you need me.”

Johnny swallowed hard, his eyes still glassy with tears, but she could see how her words hit him. He was always the shoulder to lean on, he never really had the sentiment returned until now.

Johnny sniffled, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he tried to sit up straighter, regaining his composure. “God, that was embarrassing,” he muttered, avoiding Y/n’s gaze.

Y/n tilted her head. “If that was embarrassing, then I should be humiliated after all the times I cried my heart out to you.”

Johnny paused, glancing at her, and for the first time since the conversation began, a genuine chuckle escaped his lips. “Go ahead and cry all you want, I can’t judge you.”

They laughed together, the tension slowly easing into something lighter, something more familiar. Without saying anything else, Johnny reached out, pulling Y/n into his arms. This time, it wasn’t for comfort, it was just to hold her, like a giant teddy bear, solid and warm.

Y/n leaned into him, letting herself relax against his chest. They didn’t need words. The TV played softly in the background, filling the room with a quiet hum as they sat there, wrapped in each other’s presence. 

This wasn’t the conversation she had planned to have, but it was one she truly appreciated. Seeing Johnny open up, laying bare emotions he usually kept hidden behind his easygoing exterior, made her realise just how much he cared. 

It wasn’t an easy conversation, but in that moment, she knew it brought them closer.

-

Y/n stared at her phone, blinking a few times to make sure she was reading the email correctly. 

Congratulations on your Achievement! You’ve been selected to receive an award for excelling in Biochemistry this semester. Please attend the prizegiving ceremony on… 

The words practically leapt off the screen, and before she could stop herself, a wide grin spread across her face.

She reread the email, just to make sure she hadn’t imagined it, and then immediately jumped to her feet, excitement bubbling up inside her. 

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed to herself, clutching the phone tightly.

For a moment, Y/n stood there, feeling a bit silly for how excited she was over a university award. It wasn’t like she was getting a Nobel Prize or anything, but still…it made her feel good. 

Better about herself, actually. All those late nights cramming in the library, those moments where she thought she wasn’t smart enough, weren’t for nothing after all. Someone had noticed her efforts, and that recognition, however small, felt like a win.

And hey, there were gift vouchers that came with these awards, which was definitely a nice bonus.

Still smiling to herself, Y/n couldn’t help but think of Johnny. She felt a little ridiculous wanting to tell him right away, but he’d always been the one cheering her on when she was doubting herself the most. 

She almost started typing a message to Johnny, but then paused, biting her lip. As much as she wanted to tell him, she knew Yangyang would give her shit if he found out she’d told someone else before him. 

She quickly pulled up his number and gave him a call.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yangyang’s voice came through, light and cheerful as always.

“I just got an email…I’m getting an award for being an excelling student in biochem,” Y/n said, unable to hide the excitement in her voice.

“Yo! Really?!” Yangyang exclaimed. “We have to go out to celebrate. Clubbing! Shots! Full-on party mode.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, laughing. “Yeah, no. I was thinking of something a little more chill. We already went clubbing a couple weeks ago.”

“Fine, fine,” Yangyang teased. “How about dinner, then? I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

“That sounds perfect,” Y/n said, smiling. “Thanks, Yangyang.”

“Of course! You deserve it,” he said sincerely.

Y/n hung up the call, still grinning from ear to ear. She clutched her phone tightly, her giddy mood refusing to fade.

She had to go tell her dad. He’d definitely be proud of her, she was sure of it. Y/n ran downstairs, her excitement bubbling over as she entered the living room. 

Her dad was sitting on the couch, watching TV, his attention fully on the screen. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a sudden rush of nerves before shaking it off. 

“Dad?” she called out, stepping closer.

His eyes didn’t leave the tv. “Mhmm.”

“I just got an email,” Y/n said, trying to keep her voice steady, though the excitement spilled through in her tone. “I’m getting an award for being one of the top students in biochem.”

Her dad’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Really? That’s incredible, Bub.”

Before she could say another word, he stood up, walking over to her. To her surprise, he wrapped her in a tight hug, patting her back firmly. “I’m so proud of you. That’s really good, Bub.”

Y/n felt her throat tighten, overwhelmed by the warmth of his words. He didn’t say things like this often, but when he did, it stayed with her. She hugged him back, savouring the rare moment.

“Thanks, Dad,” she murmured, her voice soft.

He pulled back, stroking her hair in that familiar, affectionate way. “I’ll take you out some time to celebrate.”

As he settled back onto the couch, Y/n sat down beside him, still basking in the moment.

“I’ll forward the email to you, with the details of the prizegiving and stuff,” Y/n said.

“Sweet,” He said, his attention back on the tv.

-

Y/n returned home after dinner with Yangyang, they’d laughed over pasta, drank glasses of fizzy, and toasted to her success. As she kicked off her shoes and flopped onto her bed, a thought struck her. 

I still haven’t told Johnny!

She sat up quickly, clutching her phone. She hit his contact and waited for the call to connect.

“Hey, Y/n. What’s up?” Johnny’s familiar voice came through the phone.

“Okay, so…I have some news!” Y/n blurted, still unable to contain her excitement.

“Yeah?” His tone was light, curious.

“I got an award for biochem!” she said proudly, her heart racing as she waited for his reaction.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then Johnny’s voice filled with excitement. “Are you serious? Y/n, that’s amazing! Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!”

Y/n felt her face heat up at his praise, a giddy blush creeping across her cheeks. “Thanks, Johnny. It feels kinda silly being this excited about it, but–”

“Hey, don’t even start. You should be excited! This is a big deal!” Johnny cut in, his voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. “You worked your ass off. Honestly, you’re incredible.”

Her heart pounded at his words, and she couldn’t help but smile like an idiot. “Stop, you’re embarassing me.”

“You deserve all the praise,” he said with a chuckle. “Okay, so when are we going out to celebrate? My treat.”

Y/n winced a little, feeling bad. “Uh…so…Yangyang already took me out for dinner.”

“Damn,” Johnny muttered. “He beat me to it. What else can we do, then?”

Y/n thought for a moment before an idea popped into her head, her voice turning playful. “Well…we didn’t get dessert.”

Johnny let out a low laugh. “Dessert, huh? I’ll pick you up in twenty.”

Y/n giggled, feeling her heart flutter. “Okay. See you soon.”

As she hung up, she found herself grinning from ear to ear. Having a good meal with Yangyang, and now having desert with Johnny. 

Could this night get any better?

Twenty minutes later, Y/n heard the familiar rumble of Johnny’s car pulling up outside. She grabbed her jacket, still buzzing with excitement, and hurried out the door. As she approached the car, Johnny rolled down the window and grinned at her.

“Hey, superstar,” he greeted, his voice teasing yet warm.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “Don’t embarrass me, it’s just a uni award. And thanks for coming out this late.”

“Anything for you.” He winked as Y/n slid into the passenger seat and buckled in.

“Picked up a cake on the way. We can celebrate back at mine.” he said, reaching into the back seat and placing a box on her lap. 

Y/n opened the box to reveal a beautifully decorated cake, and her heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “Johnny…you didn’t have to do this. Ice cream would have been fine.”

He shrugged, putting the car in drive. “Of course I did. I mean, how often do you get an award? Gotta do it right.”

Her cheeks flushed, the weight of his words sinking in. She wasn’t used to someone going out of their way for her like this, and Johnny made it feel so effortless. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said with a smirk, earning a playful shove from Y/n. “But seriously, you deserve it. Tonight’s about you.”

As they drove through the quiet streets, the excitement of the day still lingered in Y/n’s chest, but now it was mixed with a warmth only Johnny seemed to bring out in her. Celebrating at his place, just the two of them, sounded perfect.

-

Once they got to Johnny’s place, Y/n kicked off her shoes and plopped down on the couch. She watched as Johnny disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging around with an air of determined enthusiasm.

A few moments later, he returned, balancing a tray loaded with a couple of cans of fizzy, plates, utensils, and, of course, the cake, now topped with a single candle flickering softly. He set everything down on the coffee table and grinned at her.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, eyeing the candle. “Johnny, that isn’t necessary. It’s not my birthday.”

“Nonsense.” He gave her a playful look, lighting the candle with a lighter. “You’re celebrating something big. That’s worth a wish and a candle, don’t you think?”

She tried to hide her smile but failed miserably. With a small laugh, she leaned forward, clasped her hands together, and closed her eyes. “If my wish doesn’t come true, I blame you.”

Johnny chuckled. “Sounds fair.”

Y/n took a deep breath, made her wish, and blew out the candle. The tiny flame blew out, leaving only a trail of smoke floating into the air. Johnny clapped lightly, grinning like it was a real birthday celebration.

“Congratulations! What did you wish for?” he asked immediately.

You.

“I’m not telling! It won’t come true if I do,” she laughed, shaking her head as he grabbed the knife to cut the cake.

“Come on! You just said making a wish wasn’t necessary, now you won’t even tell me your wish,” Johnny said, slicing generous pieces of cake and placing them on plates.

“I ain’t taking no chances,” Y/n said as she accepted her slice. 

Johnny grabbed his slice of cake and plopped down on the couch next to Y/n, sitting close enough that their shoulders brushed. 

He handed her a fork with a little smirk. “Go on, you’ve earned it. First bite goes to the award-winner.”

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. “It’s not that amazing, Johnny,” she mumbled, taking a bite nonetheless.

Johnny leaned back against the couch, watching her with that same teasing glint in his eyes. “Don’t downplay it. You clearly worked your ass off for this. You should be proud.”

“You know what, yeah, I should be!” she replied playfully, flashing him a grin. “I’m amazing!”

He chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “There’s my good girl.”

Her fork froze halfway to her mouth, her heart suddenly racing.

“Oh, so you do remember what I said back at the club,” she muttered.

Johnny leaned in a little, resting his arm along the back of the couch. “Of course, I remember.” His tone softened, losing some of its teasing edge. “And I meant it.”

Y/n couldn’t look away from him. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, and her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was hearing. 

Where was all of this coming from? There was no alcohol to blame this time, no hazy late-night atmosphere clouding their words. 

“You have no idea what I would do for you, Y/n.” His voice was low as he carefully placed his slice of cake down on the coffee table.

Leaning back, he allowed his gaze to sweep over her, as if taking in every detail, memorizing her stunned expression in that moment.

“If you were mine, there’s nothing I wouldn’t give you,” he said quietly, the sincerity in his voice sending a shiver down her spine. “All you’d have to do is ask. You’re too precious to be treated like an afterthought.”

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. She was shocked, trapped in his steady gaze, the weight of his confession pressing down on her in the most unexpected way. 

“Johnny–” she began, but he cut her off with a sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his head dropping briefly before he lifted it again, meeting her eyes with raw emotion.

“I know I shouldn’t be saying these things to you,” he murmured, his voice tinged with guilt. “I know I shouldn’t feel this way about you, but I can’t help it, Y/n. I can’t stop thinking about you. Every time I see you…it’s like nothing else matters.”

The longing in his eyes was unmistakable, and it pulled at something deep inside her. She swallowed hard, trying to steady herself.

“Johnny…” she whispered, unsure of what to say, yet feeling the weight of his vulnerability settle over her. 

There was no teasing smirk on his face this time, no playful comment to ease the tension. This was real, raw, and it left her breathless.

She didn’t know what to say, but she knew exactly what she wanted. Her mind was racing, yet her heart seemed to know the answer before she did. 

“Can you…tell me more?” she whispered, her voice soft but steady.

Johnny’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. For a moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to gauge whether she truly meant it. When he saw the sincerity in her expression, something in his gaze softened, and the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

Y/n carefully placed her own slice of cake down on the coffee table and, without thinking too much, scooted closer to him. The space between them was now nearly nonexistent, and she could feel the warmth radiating from him. 

“I want to hear it,” she said, her eyes locked on his as she placed her hand on top of his. “I want to know how you feel…because I don’t think you realise how much it means to me.”

Johnny exhaled slowly, his hand turning over to entwine his fingers with hers. His thumb gently traced the back of her hand, grounding himself in the moment. 

“Y/n, you deserve so much more than you get, and I want to be the one to give you that,” he said quietly. “I want to give you everything your dad couldn’t.”

Her breath hitched at his words, a blush creeping up her neck. She wasn’t used to being spoken to like this. And yet, here Johnny was, laying it all bare without hesitation.

The air between them grew heavier, charged with something neither of them could deny. Y/n felt her pulse quicken as Johnny’s gaze locked onto hers, deep and unwavering. Neither of them said a word, but the tension between them spoke volumes.

Her heart pounded in her chest, and before she could second-guess herself, she leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I was your little girl…what would you do to me right now?”

The question hung in the air, a quiet echo of the conversation they’d had back at the bar, only now, there was nothing playful about it. Her words were laced with vulnerability and something more daring.

Johnny’s eyes darkened, his expression shifting into something more serious, more intense. He inhaled slowly, as if steadying himself, and leaned in just a little closer, his voice low. 

“Whatever you want me to,” he murmured, his tone smooth and steady, but with an edge of restraint.

Y/n’s breath hitched at his response, a shiver running down her spine. He was waiting for her next move, giving her control over whatever came next. Her fingers tightened slightly around his, and for a moment, all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart.

“Then…” she said, her voice soft and her eyes flicking to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Kiss me.”

Johnny didn’t hesitate. He jolted forward, closing the small gap between them, his free hand gently cupping her cheek. The moment their lips met, it was soft yet electrifying, the sweet taste of cake still lingering on their lips. Y/n’s eyes fluttered shut as she melted into the kiss, her heart racing faster with every second.

It wasn’t hurried or desperate, it was slow and full of emotion as if Johnny was pouring everything he felt for her into that single moment. His thumb brushed her cheek before falling behind her neck, holding her.

Her lips parted slightly, her own breathing hitching as her body leaned instinctively closer. “Johnny…” she whispered, her voice barely audible against Johnny’s lips, but it was all the encouragement he needed.

The kiss became deeper, more desperate, as if a dam had broken between them. His hand on her neck pulled her closer as his other arm wrapped around her waist. Y/n let herself sink into him, her hands gripping his shoulders before sliding up to tangle in his hair.

He pulled back briefly, just enough to murmur against her lips. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” His voice was thick, his hand at her waist tightening slightly, his thumb brushing the curve of her hip.

Y/n’s heart raced, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. “Good,” she replied, her voice shaky but teasing, a boldness rising within her. “Because you do the same to me.”

Johnny groaned softly, a deep, frustrated sound that sent a thrill through her. He leaned forward, pressing her back against the couch as his lips found hers again. 

This time, there was no hesitation, no holding back. His hand slid under the hem of her shirt, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of her waist, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

Y/n gasped softly at the contact, her body arching into him instinctively. She could feel the tension between them building, unable to ignore it.

“Tell me to stop,” Johnny whispered against her lips, his voice raw and breathless. 

His forehead rested against hers, his chest rising and falling with the same uneven rhythm as hers. “If this is too much, if I’m too much, just tell me, and I’ll stop.”

But Y/n shook her head, her hands clutching at his shirt, her eyes locking with his. “Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice firm and certain. “I don’t want you to stop.”

That was all Johnny needed. His lips crashed against hers again, growing more consuming. The intensity of the moment was magnetic, pulling them into their own world where nothing else existed, just the heat between them, their breaths, and the electric connection they shared.

Johnny’s lips left hers, trailing a path down the side of her face, slow and deliberate, as though savouring every inch of her. His mouth lingered at her jawline, where he pressed a series of soft, teasing kisses before suckling gently at her skin.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering shut as a wave of warmth coursed through her. She tilted her head instinctively, granting him more access, her heart pounding in her chest. She let herself melt into his touch, her body surrendering entirely to him.

Johnny’s tongue slipped out, gliding along the curve of her jaw in a way that sent sparks shooting through her veins. He moved lower, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of her neck, leaving a trail of heat wherever they touched. The gentle scrape of his teeth followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue made her pulse race even faster.

Her hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, anchoring herself against the dizzying sensations he was creating. She felt her body respond instinctively, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. 

Every nerve seemed to come alive under his touch, every thought replaced by the overwhelming reality of him.

“Johnny…” she whispered, her voice trembling with the pleasure his lips promised. 

Her mind struggled to grasp what was happening, but her heart didn’t care, it was doing backflips, completely lost in the moment.

Johnny pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her skin, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. His eyes were dark, filled with a desire he no longer tried to hide. 

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me, Y/n,” he murmured, his voice thick, every word laced with raw honesty.

Her lips parted as if to respond, but the words never came. Instead, her hand lifted, fingers brushing against his cheek before sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. 

Johnny didn’t hesitate, his lips finding hers again, capturing them in a kiss that was deeper. His hands slid to her waist, gripping her firmly, as though she were something precious in his grasp. 

She melted into him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss grew more urgent, their breaths mingling as they explored this newfound connection.

But then Johnny stilled, his lips hovering just above hers as he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. His breath came in shallow and his voice was quiet when he spoke.

“Y/n…” he began, his hands settling on her hips, steadying her. “You deserve more than this.”

She blinked up at him, dazed, her lips swollen and her heart racing. “What do you mean?”

He smiled softly, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I mean you deserve better than a couch,” he said, his voice filled with warmth and care. “If I’m going to do this, if I’m going to show you how much you mean to me, it’s going to be right.”

Johnny broke their kiss with a sharp exhale, his chest heaving as he sat back on the couch, his hands still resting on her waist. 

For a moment, he just looked at her, his eyes tracing every detail of her face as if committing her to memory. Then, with a sudden movement, he rose to his feet, towering over her.

Y/n blinked up at him, her breath catching in her throat as he extended a hand toward her. His fingers brushed hers before he clasped her hand firmly, tugging her up from the couch in one smooth motion.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice laced with a determination that sent shivers down her spine.

She barely had time to process before Johnny was leading her through the dimly lit space, his grip on her hand strong and steady. He pulled her through the house quickly, basically dragging her down the hall.

He pushed open the bedroom door without hesitation. Johnny turned to face her, still holding her hand as he pulled her closer. His free hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin as his gaze searched hers.

“I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intent. “But I can’t keep holding back, not when I’ve wanted this–wanted you, for so long.”

Y/n’s lips parted, her heart pounding as she nodded, her fingers tightening around his. “I don’t want you to hold back,” she whispered, her voice trembling but sure.

Johnny smiled then, a mix of relief and longing, and he guided her inside, letting the door fall closed behind them.

The moment the door clicked shut, Johnny’s lips were on hers again, claiming her with a hunger that sent a shiver down her spine. His hands slid up to her shoulders, his touch firm yet careful as he guided her backward toward the bed. Y/n clung to his shirt, her fingers holding the fabric as if letting go would take her away from this moment.

With each slow step, the air between them grew heavier. When the back of her knees finally met the edge of the mattress, Johnny’s hands traced down her arms before gently pressing against her waist, easing her down onto the soft sheets.

Her breath hitched as she looked up at him, her heart somersaulting in her chest. The dim glow from the window cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jaw and the warmth in his half-lidded eyes. He loomed over her, his broad shoulders filling her vision, his arms on either side of her as he hovered just above.

Johnny dipped his head, his lips ghosting over her cheek as he whispered, his voice low and full of promise. “I’m gonna take real good care of you, Y/n.”

The warmth of his breath sent a delicious shiver through her, and as he pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, she knew she was his, and she had never felt safer handing herself over.

The kiss he pressed against her lips was filled with a hunger that neither of them could suppress any longer. Their hands roamed, fingers grasping and tugging at fabric, desperate to feel more skin, more heat, more of each other.

Johnny straightened as he reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The moment he tossed it aside, Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, her gaze instinctively dropping to his muscular chest. The way the light from the window traced over his toned muscles made it impossible to look away, until Johnny’s eyes found hers again, dark with intent.

She pushed up onto her elbows, her fingers moving to the hem of her own shirt, but Johnny was quicker. His hands slipped beneath the fabric, brushing against her skin as he lifted it over her head and tossed it aside. Before she could take another breath, he was back, his lips claiming hers once more as she melted beneath him.

His touch was slow, his large hands gliding down her sides, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When his fingers reached the waistband of her pants, he paused, his grip tightening slightly as if asking for permission.

Y/n arched her hips in silent approval, and Johnny wasted no time, pulling the fabric down her legs with a tantalising slowness that sent a thrill through her. 

Johnny pulled away again, and the loss of his lips left Y/n aching and breathless, her body instinctively leaning forward as if to chase him. But then his hand dropped to the button of his pants, and her breath hitched.

She didn’t look away. Instead, she slowly shuffled back toward the centre of the bed, settling against the pillows, waiting, watching. The anticipation in her gaze, the way her chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, it made Johnny pause for a second, his lips curling into the faintest smirk.

Johnny’s gaze lingered on her as he slowly undid his belt. “You’re making it hard to focus, Y/n,” he murmured

Y/n’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes not leaving his. “I’m not doing anything.”

Johnny chuckled softly as he grabbed his pants. “You don’t have to.” 

Johnny pushed his pants down, letting them drop to the floor before stepping out of them. His movements quick, trying to get back to her as quickly as possible. Y/n’s breath hitched as her eyes traced over the sharp lines of his body.

Before she could process anything else, Johnny was back on top of her, his hands slipping around her waist as he guided her back down against the mattress. She squeaked and grabbed his shoulders as he moved her.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her jaw as he settled above her. “I’ve got you.”

Johnny’s lips found hers again, his hands roamed over her body, fingers tracing every curve. His kiss was consuming, leaving her breathless, her hands gripping onto his shoulders as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded.

A soft hum escaped her as he pressed a trail of kisses down her neck. But then she let out a breathless laugh, tilting her head to the side.

“Johnny,” she murmured against his lips, “we still have our underwear on. Not much we can do with that.”

Johnny pulled back slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, his eyes dark with amusement. “Oh,” he murmured, dragging his fingers along her waist, “there are plenty of things I can do with it still on.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “But since you wanna get to it…”

Johnny’s fingers traced the straps of her bra, his touch featherlight as he slipped them down her shoulders. His lips followed, pressing soft, lingering kisses against the newly exposed skin. 

He reached behind her, unhooking the clasp. His gaze darkened as he took her in as he pulled the fabric away.

“Wow,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration.

His hands trailed lower, gliding over her hips before slipping beneath the thin fabric of her underwear. He took his time, savouring the moment as he dragged it down her thighs, letting it join the rest of their discarded clothing.

Johnny sat back for a moment, his eyes raking over her, drinking in every inch of her bare form. The heat in his gaze sent a shiver down her spine, anticipation churning in her stomach. His lips parted slightly, his breathing deep and measured as if he was trying to compose himself.

“God, Y/n…” he exhaled.

His own followed, discarded just as quickly, giving her no time to look herself as he was back, closer than before, his body flush against hers. His lips found hers again, hungrier than ever.

“I wanna taste you,” Johnny gasped against her lips.

Y/n’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering open in shock. “T-taste me?” she stammered.

But Johnny didn’t answer, his lips curled into a smirk before he began his descent, trailing heated kisses down her neck, her collarbone, over the swell of her chest, and lower still. 

When he reached her hips, he grasped them firmly, pressing one last kiss to her navel before pushing her legs apart. His hands held her thighs steady, his grip firm as he settled between them.

A soft whimper escaped her lips as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He was taking his time, savouring the moment, watching her every reaction.

Her heart pounded, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside her as he inched closer to her core. She barely had time to process the intensity in his gaze before he finally closed the distance, his lips latching onto her sensitive clit.

A sharp gasp tore from her throat, her back arching as pleasure flooded her senses. Johnny groaned against her, his grip tightening as he pushed her thighs further apart, making room for himself.

Johnny’s tongue performed magic, delving into her opening before gliding back up to flick against her bundle of nerves. The way he moved had Y/n unravelling beneath him, her body trembling with every stroke of his tongue.

The pleasure was overwhelming, unlike anything she’d ever felt before. A breathy moan escaped her lips as her fingers instinctively tangled into his dark hair, gripping tightly in a desperate attempt to ground herself.

Her thighs twitched, instinctively trying to shut, but Johnny wasn’t having it. His strong hands tightened around her thighs, keeping her wide open for him. He let out a low hum of approval, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through her.

“Don’t hide from me, sweetheart,” he murmured against her, the heat of his breath making her shiver. “I want to taste every bit of you.”

Y/n whimpered, her chest rising and falling rapidly as Johnny continued, his tongue slipping inside her again before coming back to swirl around her sensitive bud. Her fingers clenched in his hair, tugging slightly, but Johnny only groaned in response, watching the way she was falling apart under his touch.

“Johnny,” she moaned, her voice trembling, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps as she felt her insides tighten as her orgasm neared.

Johnny must have noticed too, with the way her thighs tensed and the way her body trembled beneath him, because just when she was on the edge, he pressed one last, lingering kiss against her mound before pulling back completely, leaving her aching and empty.

A shocked whimper slipped out Y/n’s lips, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stared at him in utter disbelief. Her legs were still open, her body overwhelming with unfulfilled pleasure, and yet Johnny was pulling away, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief.

“What the fuck?” she breathed, her voice filled with frustration.

Johnny merely chuckled, the sound deep and rich as he licked the corner of his mouth with his tongue. Without another word, he shifted, moving back up her body until they were face to face, his weight pressing her into the mattress.

His lips hovered just above hers, teasing. “Relax, little girl,” he murmured, his breath warm against her lips. “I just wanna feel you fall apart around me the right way.”

Johnny didn’t give her a chance to protest, not that she could have, not when his lips crashed back against hers, stealing whatever breath she had left. 

The kiss was deep and slow, and it wasn’t long before she tasted herself on his tongue. The realization sent a new wave of heat rushing through her, her body responding instantly to the way he moved against her.

His hands found her thighs, fingers digging in as he gripped them firmly, guiding them up and around his hips. The shift brought them even closer, her body molding perfectly beneath his. 

His fingers traced slow, soothing circles against her skin, as if grounding her in the moment. “You ready?” His voice was husky, thick with restraint, but his eyes were burning with need, they left no doubt about how much he wanted this. Wanted her.

Y/n swallowed hard, nodding as her fingers curled around his biceps. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “I’m ready, Johnny.”

With one last lingering kiss, he adjusted his hold on her legs, pulling her in closer. Reaching between the two, Johnny lined himself up, right at her entrance. And then, finally, he began to push forward, inch by inch, stretching and filling her in a way that had her gasping his name all over again.

Johnny groaned as he eased into her, his grip on her thighs tightening as he fought to keep himself steady. Y/n's breath hitched, her fingers digging into his arms, anchoring herself as he filled her completely. 

He stilled for a moment, pressing his forehead to hers, giving her time to adjust. His hands soothed over her skin, trailing from her thighs to her waist, grounding her. 

"You okay?" His voice was strained, his self-control hanging by a thread.

Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding. “Mhmm,” she hummed, rolling her hips just slightly, letting him know she wanted more.

That was all it took for Johnny’s restraint to snap. A low curse left his lips as he pulled back, then pushed in again, setting a slow, deep rhythm that had Y/n gasping, each thrust sending sparks of pleasure through her.

“Johnny..” Her voice broke, pleasure unraveling her completely.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he murmured against her lips before capturing them in a kiss. 

One of his hands slipped between them, his fingers finding her clit and sent her spiraling, drawing even more pleasure from her until she was arching beneath him, lost in sensation.

Johnny’s voice was a low murmur against her lips. “You like that, little girl?”

Y/n’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with every heated second between them. Johnny’s lips traveled to her jaw, pressing rough kisses against her skin. His teeth grazed lightly before he nibbled, making her exhale a soft, trembling sigh.

“You sound so sweet when you breathe like that,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Y/n gripped onto him, her body melting into his touch. “Johnny…” she whispered, the way she said his name making his grip tighten.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxed, his lips brushing just below her ear.

Y/n’s lips parted, but all she could manage was a breathless, desperate, “More.”

Johnny’s eyes darkened, his grip on her thighs tightening as a slow smirk tugged at his lips. “More?” he echoed, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “I can give you more, baby.”

Without another word, he adjusted his hold, lifting her legs and hooking them over his shoulders. The new angle had her gasping, her fingers gripping onto his arms as he pressed into her deeper, forcing her body to submit entirely to him.

“That’s it,” Johnny murmured, his voice low and commanding.

Y/n’s back arched, her body surrendering completely as his pace grew more rough. He held her there, locked in place, making sure she felt every inch of him, every movement that sent her spiraling further into submission.

His name fell from her lips in broken, breathless whimpers, her fingers clutching desperately at the sheets beneath her. The intensity was overwhelming, his pace slow but deep, each movement sending heat curling deep in her core.

Johnny watched her, eyes dark and filled with something primal. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, his hands gripping her thighs as he pushed deeper, the new angle making her toes curl. “You feel that? How good you take me?”

All Y/n could do was nod, her voice failing her, reduced to soft moans and gasps as pleasure crashed over her in waves. Johnny leaned forward, folding her even further beneath him, his lips ghosting over hers as his breath mixed with hers.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough with restraint. “Give it to me.”

Her body trembled, the pressure in her core tightening, building to something uncontrollable. And when Johnny rolled his hips just right, she shattered, her cry muffled against his lips as her orgasm overtook her.

Johnny groaned, feeling her pulse around him, his grip on her tightening as he chased his own release. A few more deep thrusts, and he was right there with her, a low moan spilling from his lips as he buried himself deep, his body trembling against hers as he filled her with his hot cum.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their ragged breaths the only sound in the quiet room. Johnny finally exhaled, pressing slow, lazy kisses to her collarbone as he dropped her legs back down, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her skin.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now, laced with tenderness.

Y/n let out a small, breathy laugh, her arms wrapping around his neck as she nuzzled into him. “Better than okay.”

Johnny smirked against her skin, but this time, there was no teasing edge, just warmth. He pulled her closer, their bodies still tangled together as their breathing slowly evened out.

“You did so well,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “Not just now, but with the award. I’m proud of you, Y/n.”

Y/n let out a sleepy hum, her fingers tracing lazy patterns against his back. “Mmm…Thank you, Johnny.” Her voice was drowsy, content.

He smiled, smoothing a hand over her hair. “You deserve it, you know? You work hard. And I love seeing you shine.”

A warmth spread through her chest at his words, and she tightened her hold around him. “Means a lot coming from you.”

Johnny chuckled, nudging her nose with his before settling deeper into the mattress. “Get some rest, baby,” he whispered, his voice softer now. “You earned it.”

With one last lingering kiss, they drifted off, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the night settling into a peaceful stillness. 

She didn’t know when her luck got so good, but she wasn’t about to complain. 

-

But of course, Y/n’s luck never lasted long. It never did.

The next morning, she woke to an empty bed, the warmth from the night before already faded. But that didn’t bother her, not after everything that had happened.

Sitting up, she stretched, the golden morning light spilling through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. They’d been too caught up in each other to even think about drawing the curtains. A small smile tugged at her lips at the memory.

Her gaze drifted across the room, searching for any sign of Johnny, but all that remained was the faint scent of him lingering in the sheets. With a quiet sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for the scattered clothes on the floor, slipping them back on one by one.

As Y/n slipped her shirt over her head, she stepped out of the bedroom, her bare feet padding softly against the cool floor. The moment she entered the living room, she spotted Johnny pacing back and forth, his jaw clenched, one hand running through his hair.

She paused in the doorway, brows furrowing. “Johnny?” Her voice was soft, cautious. “You good?”

He stopped but didn’t turn right away. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath before he finally faced her.

That’s when she saw it, something was wrong. It was written all over his face. The tension in his features, the way his fingers flexed at his sides, like he was holding something back.

Y/n took a slow step forward. “Johnny…what’s going on?”

Johnny let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand down his face before finally meeting her eyes. His expression was pained, conflicted.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he said, his voice quieter now, rough around the edges. “None of that should have happened.”

Her stomach twisted. “W-what?” 

She took a shaky step closer, searching his face for something, anything, that made sense of what he was saying. “Johnny, what are you talking about?”

He shook his head, exhaling sharply. “You’re too young. I should’ve never come onto you like that.”

Her heart clenched. “But I wanted it.”

“That’s not the point.” His tone was firm, almost bitter. “I should have never wanted it. I should have known better.”

Y/n opened her mouth, but nothing came out. The warmth from last night, the way he touched her like she meant something, the way he whispered her name, it was all unraveling before her eyes.

Johnny took a step back, putting distance between them. “It was wrong, Y/n. And I can’t take that back.”

Y/n took a step forward, her brows knitting together in frustration. “Johnny, I wanted it to happen,” she insisted, her voice firm but laced with emotion. “I like you. And I can legally be with you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Johnny let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “You don’t get it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not about what’s legal, Y/n. It’s about what’s right.”

Her chest tightened. “It doesn’t matter,” she pressed, reaching for him, but he took another step back.

“It should..” His voice dropped lower, heavy with something deeper, something that made her stomach sink. 

He looked at her then, really looked at her. “Because I can’t have that weighing on my conscience. I can’t be the guy who takes advantage of you.”

Her breath caught. “You didn’t–”

“But what if I did?” he cut in, his gaze sharp. “What if that’s exactly what happened?” He let out a bitter laugh, his jaw tightening. “Yangyang warned you this would happen. Looks like I’m proving him right. And now, look at us.”

Y/n felt like the floor had been pulled out from under her. “Yangyang?” Her heart pounded, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “So what?” she snapped. “You’re just gonna listen to that guy? Act like last night meant nothing?”

Johnny exhaled sharply, his expression torn. “I’m saying it shouldn’t have happened,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Because no matter how much I want you, Y/n…it’s wrong.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief before narrowing into a glare. “What about what I want?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Does that not matter to you at all?”

Johnny let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/n, you don’t even know what you want,” he said, exasperated. “You’re too young.”

Her jaw dropped. “Are you fucking serious?” she scoffed, taking a step back like he’d just slapped her. “You think I don’t know what I want just because I’m younger than you?”

Johnny clenched his fists at his sides, avoiding her sharp gaze. “I think you’re still figuring things out,” he muttered, but it sounded weak even to him.

Y/n let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Wow,” she said, crossing her arms. “That’s actually insane. You didn’t seem to have a problem with my age last night.”

Johnny flinched, his face tightening. “That’s exactly the problem, Y/n.”

“No,” she snapped, stepping forward. “The problem is that you’re treating me like some clueless little kid who doesn’t know her own feelings. I know what I want, Johnny. I wanted you.”

He finally met her gaze, something torn and conflicted flickering in his eyes. “And that’s exactly why this is wrong,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pained. “Because I should’ve never let it get to this point.”

Y/n’s heart sank, a heavy weight settling in her chest as his words hit her like a cold bucket of water being poured over her. She felt defeated, helpless, as though all of her emotions and desires from the night before had been reduced to nothing but foolishness. 

Her stomach twisted in humiliation. Did she really look so helpless to him? Maybe she had made herself look desperate, foolish in her own eyes.

She took a shaky breath, trying to push the lump in her throat away. "I think I should go," she murmured, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

Johnny looked at her with a hint of guilt, his shoulders slumping. "I’ll drive you to Yangyang’s," he said softly, as though offering some sort of comfort, but all it did was make Y/n’s blood boil.

Her eyes shot up to meet his, and she straightened, her posture suddenly brimming with defiance. "Fuck you," she spat, her voice sharp and cutting. "I can get there myself."

Johnny flinched, clearly taken aback by her reaction, but Y/n couldn’t bring herself to care. She grabbed her bag and made her way toward the door, her heart heavy but her mind set. As much as it hurt, she needed to leave, to get out of that space that now felt suffocating.

Without looking back, she stepped out into the hall, slamming the door behind her. Y/n's legs felt heavy with each step as she walked down the hallway, the weight of everything pressing down on her chest. 

She couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and relentless as they blurred her vision. She wiped them away angrily, trying to steady herself, but the humiliation of it all, of being rejected, of feeling like she was nothing more than a mistake, was too much. 

She pulled her phone from her bag, her hands trembling as she unlocked it. Her fingers hovered for a moment over the screen before she quickly dialed Yangyang’s number. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and Y/n stepped inside, leaning against the wall as she waited for the call to connect.

The ringing seemed to stretch out, each second longer than the last. Y/n bit her lip, trying to choke back the sob that threatened to escape. The silence was only broken when Yangyang's voice finally came through.

“Y/n? What’s up?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge of concern beneath it.

Y/n took a shaky breath, trying to gather her thoughts. "Yangyang," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need you. Please."

-

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" Yangyang asked, his voice quiet but insistent, for what must have been the third time.

Y/n stared out of the car window, the tears still falling, too exhausted to wipe them away anymore. She could feel the weight of everything pressing down on her, suffocating, and she just wanted to escape it for a little while.

Yangyang glanced at her briefly before focusing back on the road. "Do I need to turn this car around and go beat up Johnny?" 

Y/n let out a shaky laugh, though it barely sounded like one. "No, he'd waste you," she replied, her voice hoarse. "I'll tell you when we get to yours."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, but the tears wouldn’t stop. The silence in the car felt thick, and Y/n found herself staring out at the passing scenery, feeling more lost than she had in a long time.

The car stopped out fron Yangyang’s and the moment they stepped inside, Y/n made a beeline for his bedroom, her limbs heavy with exhaustion. As soon as she reached his bed, she collapsed onto it face-first, letting out a muffled groan against the sheets.

Yangyang shut the door behind them, crossing his arms as he leaned against it. "Alright, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Y/n sighed, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "You're just gonna call me an idiot."

Yangyang scoffed. "Yeah, probably. But what’s new?"

She let out a dry laugh, but it faded quickly. Swallowing hard, she finally admitted, "I slept with Johnny."

Yangyang’s eyebrows shot up, his expression unreadable. "Shocker…and?"

"And then this morning, he regretted it." The words tasted bitter on her tongue. 

Saying it out loud made it feel even worse, like it was something that was officially real, something she couldn’t take back.

Yangyang let out a slow exhale, rubbing his face. "Shit."

Yangyang sat down next to Y/n on the bed, the mattress dipping beside her. She turned her head to look at him, only to find the look of pity in his eyes. It made her stomach twist. She didn’t want to be pitied.

“You can just go ahead and tell me how fucking stupid I am,” Y/n muttered, forcing a weak smile.

Yangyang hesitated for a moment before sighing. “...I did try to warn you.” His voice was quiet, careful, but it still stung.

Y/n let out a humourless laugh, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know…I should’ve listened.” Her voice wavered, but she kept going. “I just thought I wouldn’t even have a chance with him, so there was nothing to avoid in the first place. I didn’t think this would actually happen.”

Yangyang stayed quiet for a moment, then asked, “Tell me what happened.”

Y/n exhaled, staring up at the wall. “I went over to his place after dinner with you. It was supposed to be a celebration…he got me a cake and everything.” Her voice softened at the memory before she scoffed at herself. “We made out…had sex…slept…and then morning came, and he told me it should’ve never happened.”

Yangyang squinted his eyes, questioning the situation. “So, what? He just acted like the whole thing was a mistake?”

Y/n swallowed hard. “Pretty much.”

“What an asswipe,” Yangyang muttered, shaking his head. “You want me to talk to him?”

Y/n let out a tired laugh, though it lacked any real amusement. “Nah, not worth it…I just wanna forget any of this ever happened.”

Yangyang narrowed his eyes. “You’re not still gonna be friends with him, right?”

“Fuck no,” Y/n scoffed, burrowing her face deeper into the pillow. “I can’t even face him again. He probably doesn’t even wanna be friends with me either. I mean, I’m clearly too young for even that.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm, but underneath it, there was bitterness.

Yangyang blinked, confused. “...Huh?”

Y/n sighed, for what felt like the hundredth time. “He said I’m too young to be with him. And like…maybe he’s right, but come on! He already fucked me, so what’s the issue now?” She let out a humourless scoff. “Oh, and he said you were right.”

Yangyang grinned, leaning back on his hands. “I’m always right.”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small, dry laugh that escaped her lips. “Yeah, yeah. But basically, he made it clear, I’m too young to even think about him like that. So that’s the end of that, I guess.”

Yangyang clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Damn. He really fumbled.”

“Guess so,” Y/n muttered, but the ache in her chest told her it wasn’t that simple.

-

It had been a week since everything went down, yet the ache in Y/n’s chest refused to fade. She knew there was nothing she could do to change what had happened, that it was out of her hands, but that didn’t stop her from replaying it over and over in her mind. 

What could she have said differently? What could she have done to make him stay?

But no matter how much she thought about it, the answer was always the same. It didn’t matter. Johnny had made his choice. And now, she had to let go.

Tonight was supposed to be a big night. Prizegiving. The moment all her hard work would finally be recognized. Yangyang was coming to pick her up soon, and her dad was supposed to come straight from work. It should have been exciting. It should have been a night worth celebrating.

Yet here she was, sitting on the edge of her bed in her formal dress, twiddling her fingers in her lap, staring blankly at the floor. She should be happy. She should feel proud. But all she felt was hollow.

Johnny had tainted this moment for her. Because no matter how much she tried to push it aside, no matter how much she told herself it didn’t matter, the truth was, she wanted him there.

Y/n’s phone buzzed beside her, snapping her out of her thoughts. She glanced at the screen. It was Yangyang.

Outside boi!

Rolling her eyes, she let out a small sigh before grabbing her bag. She stood, smoothing out her dress, and took one last look in the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, polished, put together, but she still felt out of it. 

Shaking off the feeling, she grabbed her keys and made her way downstairs. The house was quiet, almost eerily so, but she didn’t linger. She locked up behind her, stuffing the keys into her bag before heading toward the car parked at the curb. 

Yangyang was leaning against the hood as he scrolled through his phone. When he saw her, he let out a low whistle. 

“Look at you,” he grinned. “Flashy clothes and all.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes, slipping into the passenger seat. “It’s a formal event, you egg.” 

Laughing, Yangyang slid into the driver’s seat, turning the key before pulling away from the curb. “Alright, alright. But seriously, you look good.” 

Y/n stared out the window, resting her chin against her hand. “Thanks,” she muttered. “Wish I felt like it.”

Yangyang sighed, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as they hit a red light. He glanced over at Y/n, who was still staring out the window, lost in her own head.

“Look, I know you’re still thinking about him,” he said, his tone softer than usual. “And I get it. But you’re not gonna let some dumbass ruin your night, right?”

Y/n stayed quiet, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her dress.

Yangyang sighed again, shaking his head. “Come on, Y/n. You worked your ass off for this. You deserve to be proud of yourself. You deserve to have a good time tonight. And most of all, you deserve better than some guy who made you feel like shit for wanting him.”

Y/n blinked, finally looking over at him. “I know…” she murmured. “I just…I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

Yangyang gave her a small smile. “Then fake it. Cause I ain’t about to take pictures of you on stage mopping about. You better look about at this later thinking you’re the shit.”

A tiny smile tugged at Y/n’s lips. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Yangyang admitted with a shrug. “But you’re Y/n. You’ll be just fine.”

The light turned green, and he pressed on the gas. “Now, let’s go get you that damn award.”

-

When they arrived at the venue, the place was already filled with people. The hall was dimly lit, chandeliers casting a soft glow over the round tables draped in black cloths. Students, parents, and faculty were scattered around, chatting, laughing, and enjoying their meals. A stage stood at the front of the room, the podium set up with a microphone, waiting for the ceremony to begin.

Y/n and Yangyang made their way through the crowd, finally spotting an empty table off to the side, away from the main crowd. It was quiet, which was perfect, she wasn’t really in the mood to make small talk with anyone else.

As soon as they sat down, Yangyang’s eyes immediately landed on the buffet table across the room. “Yo, they got some good shit over there,” he said, already standing back up. “I’m getting some food.”

Y/n huffed a small laugh. “Figures.”

“You want me to grab you anything?”

She shook her head. “Nah, I’ll just wait here.”

Yangyang nodded before making his way toward the buffet, leaving her alone at the table.

Y/n exhaled and leaned back in her chair, letting her gaze wander around the room. It was a nice event, and she wished she could fully enjoy it.

At least Yangyang was here. And her dad would be showing up soon. That was something to be happy about, right?

She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to push away the lingering thoughts of the past week. This was supposed to be her night, she had worked hard for this moment.

Maybe, just maybe, she could let herself enjoy it.

Yangyang returned to the table with a full plate stacked high with food and a drink in hand. 

He plopped down into his seat and, without a word, set a plate down between the two of them. “Got some for both of us.”

“You’re a blessing,” Y/n said, already picking up a fork.

“I know,” Yangyang smirked before taking a sip of his drink.

Y/n glanced at the cup in his hand. “What are you drinking?”

“Beer.”

Her head snapped toward him. “What the fuck? Where did you get beer here?”

Yangyang shrugged casually, stuffing a bite of food into his mouth. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “That is your only drink tonight. You still have to drive me back, dumbass.”

Yangyang groaned but didn’t argue. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” He took another sip before setting the cup down. “Just let me enjoy this one, alright?”

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Fine. But I swear, if I catch you sneaking another, I’m taking your keys.”

Yangyang snorted. “Noted.” Then he dug into his food like he hadn’t eaten in days, and Y/n shook her head, finally feeling a little lighter than she had all night.

Y/n picked at the food on the plate, taking small bites as the ceremony began. The event started with introductions, a slideshow about the course, and acknowledgments of the faculty. The speaker’s voice droned on in the background, but Y/n’s mind was elsewhere.

She glanced around the room, scanning the faces, searching for her dad. Still no sign of him.

With a quiet sigh, she pulled out her phone under the table and flicked him a quick text.

Hurry up, it’s started.

She tapped her fingers anxiously against her lap, waiting for a response, but nothing came. Putting her phone back down on the table, she tried to focus on the ceremony, but the empty seat meant for her dad weighed on her more than she wanted to admit.

About fifteen minutes later, Y/n’s phone vibrated. The screen lit up with her dad’s name, and a pang of hope shot through her, maybe he was outside, letting her know he had arrived.

She leaned over to Yangyang. “I’m just gonna take this.”

He nodded, mouth full, and she slipped her phone into her palm as she made her way out of the hall. The murmurs of the ceremony faded as she pushed through the doors, stepping into the quieter hallway before answering.

“Hey, Dad–”

“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to make it, bubs.”

The words hit her like a punch to the throat.

She blinked, staring at the ground, her chest tightening as disappointment crushed her. She had told herself she wouldn’t expect much, but a part of her still held on, still thought, just this once, he’d show up.

He was still talking, saying something about work, how he’d make it up to her, how proud he was. But Y/n barely heard any of it. His voice was a distant hum, drowned out by the ringing in her ears.

Her fingers curled around the phone. She wanted to say something, call him out, tell him how much this meant to her, how he always did this, but what was the point?

Instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat and forced out, “Yeah…okay, that’s fine.”

It wasn’t. It wasn’t fine at all.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Sorry, bubba,” her dad sighed. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” she muttered before hanging up.

She stood there for a second, staring at her screen, the weight of it settling in. Then, with a deep breath, she shoved her phone into her pocket and forced herself back inside.

Y/n felt hollow as she walked back into the hall, her legs heavy like they were being weighed down with bricks. The voice from the speakers droned around her, blending into a dull hum as she made her way back to the table.

She sat down next to Yangyang, eyes fixed on the table, barely able to breathe past the lump in her throat.

Yangyang looked over, instantly noticing something was off. “What’s up?”

She blinked rapidly, trying to push down the tears welling up, but they betrayed her, slipping free and pooling in her lashes.

Yangyang frowned, leaning in closer. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Y/n exhaled shakily, voice barely above a whisper. “Dad’s not coming…”

Yangyang’s face darkened. He sat back with a scoff, shaking his head. “Fucking typical.”

Before she could say anything, he pulled her into him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. That was all it took for her to break. She buried her face into his shoulder, the tears finally falling as she cried quietly, gripping onto his sleeve like it was the only thing holding her together.

Yangyang didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need to. He just held her, rubbing her back as the ceremony carried on around them like nothing had happened.

Yangyang glanced up at the presenter, then down at Y/n, his grip on her shoulder giving a small squeeze. “Hey,” he murmured, “award giving’s about to start. You should go clean up quickly.”

Y/n sniffled and nodded, slowly pulling away from him. She stood up, smoothing out her dress before making her way to the bathroom.

Inside, she leaned against the sink, staring at her reflection. Her eyes were red-rimmed and cheeks blotchy from crying. With a deep breath, she grabbed some paper towels and dabbed at her face, doing her best to erase the image of disappointment.

She fanned her face with her hands, willing the puffiness to go down, but there was only so much she could do. The mirror didn’t lie, she looked tired, drained, but at least she wasn’t outright sobbing anymore.

“This is as good as it’s gonna get,” she muttered to herself, straightening up.

Taking one last steadying breath, she turned on her heel and stepped out of the bathroom, heading back into the hall.

Just as Y/n stepped out of the bathroom, she heard her name being called, echoing through the hall, and a curse slipped past her lips. She straightened herself up quickly, wiping the last of the moisture from her eyes and forcing a smile, even though her heart still felt heavy.

Making her way toward the stage, she kept her posture perfect, doing her best to appear as composed as possible. Every step felt heavier, but she was determined to keep it together. 

She shook hands with the people on stage, each interaction feeling more like a blur than a moment, and received her award, a small trophy and framed certificate.

She saw Yangyang, his face was practically glowing with pride, his phone held high as he recorded the moment. She couldn’t help but smile at him, the smallest bit of warmth returning to her chest, just enough to push away the knot of tension.

Then came the moment of standing there, in front of the audience, while they listed off her achievements and took pictures. She stood tall, trying not to fidget even though her stomach twisted. Her eyes scanned the room as the flashes of cameras went off. And then, she saw him.

Johnny.

For a second, it felt like the air in the room went still, the chatter around her fading into the background. He had clearly just walked in standing at the back of the tables, his gaze locked on her. Her breath caught in her throat, and she instinctively glanced away, her fingers tightening around the edges of the award in her hands.

Even after she looked away, Y/n couldn’t shake the disbelief settling in her chest. What the fuck was he doing here? She had told herself she wouldn’t let him get to her, but just the sight of him, standing there in the crowd, sent a surge of emotions she wasn’t prepared for.

She hesitated, but her eyes found him again. Johnny was still there, standing tall, a smile on his face, not smug, but genuine, proud even. He wore a suit that helped him to blend into the crowd, but Y/n couldn’t look away, and the moment he caught her gaze, her heart stuttered.

The presenter stopped talking, and that’s when the applause started. Y/n watched as Johnny slowly took his hands out of his pockets, joining the applause for her. She forced herself to look away, not wanting to linger on him any longer than necessary.

She made her way back to the audience, her heart hammering in her chest. As soon as she reached Yangyang, she was greeted by his warm eyes.

Yangyang pulled Y/n into a tight hug as soon as she sat down, squeezing her in celebration. "Well done, you did it!" he said, his voice full of pride.

But Y/n didn’t respond. She was still frozen, her eyes locked on the back of the room, her mind racing.

Yangyang pulled back slightly, brows furrowing as he looked at her. "Hey, what’s up?" he asked, his voice softer now, noticing her tension.

Y/n didn’t answer him. Her gaze was fixed somewhere behind him, and Yangyang’s confusion deepened. He turned around, following her line of sight, and that’s when he saw Johnny walking toward them, making his way through the crowd.

Yangyang’s expression shifted instantly, a sharp defensive edge taking over. Without thinking, he stood in front of Y/n, blocking her from Johnny’s view. He pushed his shoulders back, trying to appear bigger, though it did little, as he glared at Johnny.

Johnny stopped in his tracks, eyes flicking between Yangyang and Y/n. It was clear he was expecting this kind of attitude, but he was ready. The tension between them hung thick in the air.

"You got some nerve showing up here," Yangyang said, his voice low, barely containing his anger as he kept his stance between Johnny and Y/n.

Johnny met his gaze, unflinching, and gave a slow, resigned nod. "I know," he said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of something more than just an apology. "I just...I need to talk to her."

Yangyang's expression remained hard, crossing his arms. "What for?" he demanded, clearly not trusting Johnny's intentions.

Johnny’s eyes flickered to Y/n for a brief moment, his plea more genuine than either of them could have expected. "Please," he said, voice barely above a whisper, though it was laced with sincerity.

Yangyang hesitated, then slowly turned his head to look at Y/n. His eyes searched hers for confirmation, his protectiveness still strong but giving her the space to decide.

Y/n met Johnny’s gaze for a moment before looking back at Yangyang, still shaken but steadying herself. She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table and smoothing her dress. "We can talk outside," she said, her voice more composed than she felt.

Yangyang stepped aside, giving her the space she needed. "I'll be right here," he said before watching as Y/n walked toward Johnny.

Y/n made her way to the end of the hall, her eyes fixed on the floor as her mind raced, trying to process everything. She could feel Johnny’s footsteps behind her, each step a reminder of the presence she hadn’t expected to face tonight. She could feel him drawing closer, his energy almost suffocating in its intensity.

They reached the door, and before Y/n could open it, Johnny held it open for her. She walked through it without a word, the cold air of the hallway brushing against her skin. Her heart was racing, but she didn’t stop until she reached the middle of the corridor. The noise of the event seemed to fade away as she turned to face him.

She stood still for a moment, her breath shaky as she looked back at him. He was standing there, just a few feet away, his expression unreadable. Y/n didn’t know what to say. How could she?

"Why are you here, Johnny?" The words felt heavy, yet so light at the same time, escaping her lips before she could stop them.

“I told you I would come,” Johnny said, his voice steady but tinged with regret.

Y/n scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief. “And you think that was a good idea, after everything that happened the other day?”

Johnny exhaled sharply, frustration and guilt flickering across his features. He ran a hand through his hair, looking down for a moment, clearly upset with himself. “I...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that.”

Y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly, her expression a mix of hurt and exhaustion. She crossed her arms, her stance defensive. “But you did,” she said quietly, her voice almost too calm for the storm brewing beneath it. “You said it, and now here we are. You can’t just take it back, Johnny.”

Johnny’s eyes softened, a mix of regret and sincerity overtaking his usual confident demeanor. “I never should’ve said any of that, Y/n,” he began, his voice quiet but earnest. “I regret every word of it. I don’t want you to think I said it because I didn’t care or because I didn’t feel anything. The truth is, I felt more for you than I ever wanted to admit. And I–”

Y/n cut him off. “And what does this apology actually change, huh? You still regretted it.” She paused, her voice barely above a whisper as she looked at him. “You still regret everything.”

Johnny winced at the words, but never backed down. “I never regretted it, Y/n.” He stepped a little closer, his gaze unwavering.  “What I regretted…what I was afraid of, was what it would mean for me, for you. I didn’t want you or anyone to think I was some weirdo because of how much younger you were. I know how people would look at me, and I couldn’t deal with that. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, or that you didn’t deserve better.”

He looked away for a second, as if the weight of his own words had become too much to bear. "But that's the thing, Y/n. I shouldn’t have let that get in the way. You were never a mistake to me."

Y/n’s eyes narrowed as she processed his words, her emotions still raw, but somewhere beneath all of that hurt, a spark of curiosity flickered. She crossed her arms, looking at him like she was still trying to figure out if this was real or just another excuse. 

“So, what do you want, Johnny?” she asked, her voice steady, though there was a hint of vulnerability she couldn’t quite hide.

Johnny’s gaze softened, the usual guarded expression he wore fading into something more honest. “I want to be with you,” he said without hesitation, his voice low but firm. 

“I’m not saying it’s perfect or easy, but I don’t want to let this go, not when it means something to me. And I don’t care about the age, or what anyone thinks anymore.” He took a step closer, his words filled with a raw honesty that Y/n couldn’t ignore. “What I care about is you. I want to make this right.”

Y/n stood there for a moment, her mind racing, her heart still bruised but not as hard as before. She let out a soft laugh, the kind that was almost disbelieving but somehow light-hearted. “All’s forgiven, huh?” she said, her tone teasing.

Johnny smiled, the weight of the past few days finally lifting off his shoulders. “If you’ll let me,” he said, his eyes locked on hers, full of sincerity. “I’ll make it right. I swear I will.”

Y/n looked at him for a long moment, trying to read his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But there was nothing there, just the same guy she’d met at the bar.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I guess I could give you another chance...but you’d better not mess it up again, Johnny.”

Johnny grinned, a genuine smile that seemed to light up his whole face. “I won’t, I’ll make sure of it.”

Y/n took a deep breath, her heart still a little heavy, but the tension between them had eased. She stepped up to Johnny, her arms wrapping around him before he even had the chance to react. Johnny’s arms came around her instinctively, pulling her close as if he didn’t want to let go.

“Atleast you actually showed up,” Y/n said, her voice muffled slightly as her face was pressed into his chest. “Fucking dad didn’t.”

Johnny pulled back just enough to look down at her, his expression a mix of disbelief and amusement. “You fucking kidding me?” he asked, a slight laugh escaping him.

Y/n shook her head, chuckling. “Nope.” 

She felt Johnny’s arms tighten around her again. She would’ve probably felt like shit thinking about her dad and how he had let her down tonight, but in that moment, with Johnny holding her, everything else just faded away. She felt…happy.

“There’s no chance I wouldn’t have come,” Johnny said softly, his voice almost a whisper as reached under her chin to tilt her head up. “I know how much it mattered to you”

Y/n looked up at Johnny, her heart racing as his fingers gently brushed her chin, lifting her face to meet his. His words hung in the air between them, soft and sincere.

“You always do,” she whispered back, her breath catching in her throat.

The space between them closed, and in an instant, Johnny’s lips were on hers. It wasn’t rushed or forced, but soft, like he was savoring the moment. Y/n’s mind finally quiets, letting the warmth of the kiss wash over her.

It was like everything outside of that moment faded away, leaving just the two of them, connected in a way that felt real, felt right. When they finally pulled away, Y/n’s eyes stayed closed for a moment, her lips still tingling from the kiss.

Y/n pulled back slightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she looked up at Johnny. “I’ve already got my award,” she said, her voice light. “We can totally just leave now, right?”

Johnny grinned, his eyes lighting up with relief. “Sounds good to me,” he agreed quickly.

Y/n started to turn back toward the hall, ready to grab Yangyang and get out of there, but Johnny gently caught her arm, halting her. He stepped closer, his expression softening.

“Before you go,” he said quietly, his hand reaching for her face once more, “can I’ve a kiss?”

Y/n met his gaze, her heart fluttering, and she nodded with a soft laugh. Without another word, Johnny leaned down, capturing her lips with his once more. Neither of them could hold back from smiling in the kiss, the happiness and relief that had been building between them for so long finally spilling over.

When they finally pulled away, Y/n was smiling, her hand lingering on his chest. “Happy now?”

“Very.” he said softly, her tone teasing like usual.  

She chuckled, shaking her head as she gave him one last look before turning to head back toward the hall to grab Yangyang.

Y/n couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this good. With Johnny, she found more than just someone who showed up when she needed him. He was kind, supportive, and cared in a way that felt rare to her.

As she made their way back into the hall, she realized that despite everything, despite her father’s absence, the hurt from before, she had Johnny who made her feel seen, heard, and truly valued. With Johnny by her side, the weight of the world felt just a little bit easier to carry, and for the first time in a long while, Y/n let herself believe that things might just be okay.

-

A/N: Just thought I should say that I do NOT condone drinking and driving! Anyways! Thank you so much for reading this fic, the next one of the series I'll be writing is Yuta~ so slay! hope you look forward to that Thank you again for reading 💚

[munano-theprophet]

Clipped Wings

Dark!Rafe x Reader

You had been dating Rafe for a few weeks now and noticed some odd behavior. One day, when the truth of his sanity comes to light, you’re taught just how hard it is to get out of Rafe’s clutches.

Warnings: Dark! Rafe, non-con, forced pregnancy, breeding kink, slight dumbification, forced marriage, controlling husband, stepfordization (technically?), sexual and psychological torture, freeuse kink at play, minors dni

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Word count: 2.8k

(has not been spell and grammar checked)

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And in a sudden moment, your legs felt like heavy cinder blocks. You’ve been running in the woods for ages, never once taking a moment to stop and hold your breath. It’s been close to 15 minutes of continuous running, and you just started getting tired. You found yourself both cursing and giving him props for giving you the advice to work more on cardio and core or else he would have found you by now.

“Come on y/n…” you heard him in the woods. He was close…

…too close.

“If you come out now I won’t be as mad,” he said in a sinisterly sing-song voice that did nothing but evoke shivers down your spine.

You started to tread lightly, any snap or any step out of place and it was all over. Faster than you could even react, you were whipped around and you were face to face with ocean blue eyes that pierced right into your soul. Rafe smirked, “Gotcha”.

His iron grip was held during the entire trek, nearly dragging you back to his car with the long strides he took. He placed you into the passenger seat, and before he could close the door, your right foot attempted to connect with his face. While you were quick, he was quicker, he caught your lower leg before it could make contact.

He quickly turned it in a way that caused a quick second of severe pain, it was like he was hitting a pressure point. Upon impact, you yelled as loud as you could so that someone--anyone--could hear you. The corners of his mouth twitched into a smirk, “That’s it princess,” he said sinisterly, he knew your attempts were futile. “We’re in uncharted territory, no one can hear you from here.”

You slouched your arms, you felt hopeless. Your phone was dead, and even if it wasn’t, no satellite signal reached the uncharted territory of the island. You tried thinking of other ways To escape, but before you knew it, a cloth was on your mouth and nose. “Take it all in sweetheart. Remember that it was. You who brought us to this point…” he said to you as your vision started to darken and your eyes grew heavier. Your limbs felt jumbo and as you fought to stay awake, he just applied more pressure to the cloth you were breathing in.

—

You wake up in a dark room, your vision was groggy and you didn’t haven’t much feeling in your limbs yet. You heard someone coming out of the bathroom, and quickly made out Rafe’s shape. You pretended to fall asleep and he sat next to you in bed, your body went rigid. “I know you’re up baby,” he said with his eyes piercing through you. You could could feel his lingering gaze roam your body, and if you weren’t so concentrated on keeping your breathing even, a shiver would have accompanied his statement. He exhaled, “I can either take it from you like this, or you can wake up and cooperate” he said, irritation growing in his voice.

You didn’t move.

He waited a few more seconds and then huffed, “Fine, have it your way then”. You opened your eyes slightly and he moved a bit closer to you placing a syringe to your arm. You started to panic, “W-wait Rafe no!”

But it was too late. He quickly injected it in your arm, and if you couldn’t feel your limbs before, they felt like jelly now. He sighs in satisfaction, “There we go, I say use this as a time to think about what you did earlier. Actions have consequences y’know y/n. Don’t they?” He said in a condescending manner. When you didn’t answer him, he quickly flipped your frame ove and spanked you, hard. “What did I just say?” You whimpered, “Yes,” you slurred. He spanked you again, “Yes what?”

You swallowed, you were not surviving this night easily. “Y-yes daddy”. You say in defeat. He made an animalistic groan once you said that, and being to furiously take off both yours and his clothes. “I wanted our first time to be special y/n,” he starts, taking off your shorts, a tear threatens to escape your eye, “but something tells me you like it rough”. You whimpered again when you could feel him struggling to take off your panties. The thickness of your thighs and the friction of the fabric made it harder for him to get it off. You heard a loud ripping sound, and saw your panties go the other direction. “P…please Rafe…” you tried to say, you were trying to wake your head up to almost no avail. He leans down, trailing kisses on your backside, “Don’t worry beautiful,” he unbuckles his pants and you hear them drop to the floor, “you’ll enjoy it”.

___SMUT STARTING BELOW___

He pressed his tip to your folds, and you can feel the smirk oozing off of him, “My baby’s excited isn’t she?” Your body had betrayed you, and your folds were slick with anticipation. Before you could even register his sentence, you felt him pound into you with excessive force. You cry out as he continues pumping into you. He exhales, “You feel so tight y/n, so tight and so right for me,” you could barely formulate words and only managed to get out sounds, “Mgskghdj fhdh”.

Rafe’s cock was as big as his ego—and Rafe has the biggest ego on the island. He filled you in a way you didn’t even know was possible and the pleasure he brought you from stretching you out started to have you in a blissful state. You didn’t know if it was the drugs or the dick that had you feeling good, but your body has never ever felt this good. After a few more strokes, you found yourself entering a much more docile and submissive state (maybe it was the drugs taking over, or you had chalked it up to your body succumbing to pleasure as a survival instinct). Your eyes crossed from the pleasure, and he used one of his arms to make you look up at him while the other played with one of your nipples. The extra stimulation was sending you over the edge as your brain felt like it had been switched off.

“That’s right y/n,” Rafe said, looking down at your complacent face, “don’t fight it. You wanna make daddy happy right?” You babbled a few incoherent words and were met with a slap to the face. This made you clench around him even more and you answered him, “Yes daddy”. He chuckled at you, “Looks like I’ve fucked my girl stupid, hm? My dumb baby making a mess on my cock”. You babbled a few more incoherent words with the grunting in his ear, he started muttering, “you’re only mine” and “this pussy belongs to me” “anyone who tries to take you from me is a dead man”. He used the hand that was playing with your tits to choke you, this caused you to clench on him even more and you could feel yourself about to cum. “Daddy wait I can’t take it anymore,” the pressure was building up inside you, but Rafe didn’t let up, “yes you can,” he growled while pounding into you even faster. You tried to lift an arm to hold him back, but all he did was laugh at your attempt, moving the arm out of the way and smacking your ass in the process. “I’ve waited so long to finally put a baby in you,” he wildly grins, “bearing my child so I can be a great father and provide for our family. Everyone on the island will know exactly who you belong to then”. You tried coming back to your senses, “N…no” you said, still in a daze. “Yes y/n, you’re gonna look so good filled with my babies, they will be heirs to the family company and have Cameron blood running through their veins”. You could feel his cock pulsing and knew he was close. “Please Rafe…not…inside!” You choked out as he went back to choking you. “A wife needs to shut the fuck up and know her place,” he said, pushing your head into the bed and placing your hand there to make you stay. He then exhaled as ropes of cum began to fill you up. You both orgasmed at the same time, and he thrusted a few more times as you came down from the high you just experienced.

Tears fell, you sniffled and laid there, wishing you were in another place but Tannyhill, wishing you were out of Rafe’s reach. He got off of you and pulled you close to him, “Good girl,” he said, placing kisses along your back before falling asleep.

———————

Four Weeks Later

You stared at the positive pregnancy test. This was the third box you’ve done, but you knew it was futile to try and live in denial.

You were having Rafe Cameron’s baby.

You haven’t left Tannyhill since that night, Rafe took your phone and texted your family that you’ve been staying at Tannyhill due to helping Sarah while she’s sick (while she wasn’t sick, she’s been off the island for a while, so the lie would stick for the time being). Your hands trembled as you were ready to break into a fit of tears, just then, you heard Rafe come into the house. You wiped your face and tried hiding the tests in the sink cupboard. “Y/n!” He called out for you, you hurriedly ran to him, plastering a fake smile on your face. “Good afternoon daddy,” you greeted him with a kiss. This was how you were expected to greet him every time he returned to the house, and if you didn’t, there were consequences that you knew all too well you wouldn’t want to go through again.

———————

3 Weeks Ago

You lashed out at Rafe for keeping you confined in the house with refusal to let you go. At dinner, you threw your food onto the floor, he swiftly got up and made his way over to you. He pulled your hair back and forced you to look up at him. “So you want to be a bad girl tonight? Fine, I’ll show you what happens when you want to disobey daddy’s rules”.

He spanked and fucked you mercilessly the entire night, and made sure his load stayed in you even after he was done by inserting a butt plug. He made you wear it around the house, especially since it vibrated, and was controlled on an app through his phone. Any time you misbehaved, he punished you by using it. There were extended times he would spend “re-educating” you back to living a “proper kook life”. He would make you repeat, rules, mantras, and statements. By the end of the day, you knew them like the back of your hand, but it wasn’t just one day though, it was multiple.

Rafe was slowly breaking you down and building you back up.

He wanted to mold you into something of his own creation. He wanted you obedient and docile, and available whenever he wanted. Slowly but surely, that was what he was getting.

————————-

Present

“How’s my girl doing? Hope you didn’t miss me too much” he says kissing you back whilst holding you in his arms. “I tried not to,” you lied. “What’s for dinner tonight?” he asked. One of the other rules was that you were tasked with making breakfast, lunch and dinner. He was a bit early today and you got caught up with the pregnancy tests. “Salmon,” you said, “I was going to pull out the Cheval Blanc from the wine cellar”. He hummed in response and you noticed how he hadn’t let go. “But then again, it wouldn’t really be wise for a mother-to-be to be drinking…correct?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, not knowing what to say. “You think I wouldn’t notice you delivering pregnancy tests to a house full of cameras y/n? You deserved to be punished just for thinking so stupidly”. His grip on you tightened and you felt pain in your lower back. You instantly started shaking your head, “No Daddy wait—” he grabbed you by the neck and pushed you against the wall, applying more pressure to that area as he spoke. “When are you gonna understand y/n, you’re mine and mine only. No one can take you or that baby from me. You can’t go to the police—I own the police, and if you try and step foot off this island, you will regret even thinking that idea was smart”. You clawed at his grip on your neck, “You and our baby are both Camerons, you will live in this house like a good housewife and take care of our children. And if anyone on this island even tries to help you, they’re family will have a new member to bury…if I don’t burn their body first”.

Children, he said.

He was going to do this to you more than once.

“The faster you learn your place, the better. Do we understand each other?” You nodded your head, barely any air for you to try and speak through the chokehold. He let you go and you slid to the bottom of the floor. “And y/n?” He knelt down to your level and picked your chin up,, “If you do anything that will jeopardize our baby, I can promise you that there are fates far worse than death. I have no problem with us starting the process over and over again”. He said before dropping your chin and leaving. You cried silently to yourself, but not loud enough to hear so that Rafe wouldn’t get worked up again. You put a hand to your stomach and sighed. something broke in you that day, and that piece of you that broke is something you’d probably never get back. You were going to carry out this pregnancy, for you knew the consequences you’d receive if you didn’t.

__________________

1 Year Later

It was evening time, you were washing the plates after cleaning the kitchen, your son was fast asleep. As you were drying the plates, you felt a pair of hands come behind you, snaking their way to your waist. “The beautiful Mrs. Cameron”. He said proudly, you smiled at him. Rafe worked to make the wedding happen as fast as possible. Your parents were surprised and shocked that you never told them you were engaged, especially to THE Rafe Cameron. Everything was perfect and the day breezed by and you found yourself getting fucked by your newlywed husband at the end of it. The giant rock on your ring finger only further established his ownership of you, as the inside of the ring had the last name Cameron and the family crest there.

“Good evening daddy, I hope you enjoyed dinner,” you say as he places a kiss on your cheek. “I always enjoy your cooking. I felt the need to reward you for your good behavior”. He smirks, lifting up your dress. He pushed you back a bit as you automatically spread your legs, you knew the drill. Rafe had access to you at all times, whether it be in the morning or evening, bathroom or kitchen…whatever and wherever he wanted, it happened. He always had the final say, and you could only agree. You knew the consequences you’d receive if you didn’t. You were already wet and he plunged into you, fucking you at a steady pace while you tried continuing with the dishes. He grabbed and fondled you anyhow and everywhere on your body, and you let him because you felt your mind starting to float away. Through Rafe’s re-education, you were the perfect Kook housewife, you never spoke out of turn, always followed the rules and you never talked back. Every time he would use you, your brain always seemed to turn off, and the mantras that he forced you to memorize would play back in your head like an audio recording. You could feel he was close, “Tell me to cum in you,” he demands. You look back with pleading eyes, “Please cum in me daddy, I need you to breed me with your seed so bad baby”. You felt so docile and obedient in this position, taking cock and fulfilling your domestic duties. It felt so right to do as your husband says, to serve all of his needs and let him use you. You were a babbling mess again and he just chuckled at you, “Such a dumb bitch,” he said as he pumped you with his cum. You bobbed your head along, and as he came in you, your mouth watered as you began to get on your knees to taste him. You loved tasting him, it felt right to kneel down and choke on his cock, even if it made did you choke.

Before you could get the chance to put his tip on your mouth. Your son was crying from the nursery. Rafe lifted you up, “You get cleaned up, I’ll take care of him”. And with that you obeyed,

because you knew the consequences you’d receive if you didn’t.

Please let me know how I did! I lowkey miss writing dark content. Also, please take the time to vote on this poll xx

-M

[sylith]

Joker⋆｡°✩ & Owen⋆｡°✩

when reader is touchy/natural flirt and it confuses them⋆｡°✩

It was the kind of summer midday that stuck to your skin — all heat shimmer and blinding sun, the type of weather that made ice cream melt too fast. You had dragged Joker out hours ago, grinning like a menace, insisting he "touch grass" or "see sunlight" or whatever excuse you'd made up to get him outside. Now, the two of you sat in the park or, more accurately, you lounged under a patch of filtered shade while Joker slouched on the bench beside you, silently regretting wearing black. His dessert sat in his lap — some absurd layered sundae you’d picked out for him: syrupy, overloaded, obnoxious. He was picking at it with clear suspicion, stabbing into the mess like it had insulted him personally. You, on the other hand, were happily working through a melting scoop of Neapolitan ice cream, yapping a mile a minute, barely pausing between bites. Something about someone’s bike wreck. Or maybe it was about a dog. Joker wasn’t listening too hard. You were already more interesting than whatever you were saying. “…and then I told him, if he’s gonna crash that dramatically, he should at least do it with style,” you said, licking at the strawberry side, eyes squinting into the sunlight. “But I guess not everyone can pull off stupid and sexy like you can.” Joker froze mid-bite. The spoonful of sundae he'd just shoved into his mouth suddenly became a hazard. He coughed — once, sharp — then tried to swallow and breathe at the same time, which only made it worse. He doubled forward slightly, choking, thumping his chest while glaring at you through watering eyes. You blinked, then burst out laughing. “Holy shit, are you dying?” “I’m—” cough “fine,” he managed, turning away to spit into the grass like the heat was to blame. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then glared at you like you’d just slapped him with a shovel. “Damn,” you said, licking your spoon slowly, watching him suffer with a smile. “Didn’t know flirting could be fatal.” He sat back, squinting at you under the midday sun, trying desperately to look like he wasn’t still reeling. “You’re not funny.” “You’re just mad ‘cause it’s true,” you grinned, bumping his knee with yours. Joker scowled, but his ears were pink. He went back to stabbing at his sundae like it had personally offended his dignity. “This is why I don’t go outside with you.” “Sureeeeee,” you teased, stretching your arms up over your head like a cat in the sun. “But next time, try not to die just because I called you hot.” He muttered something into his cup of melting dessert, avoiding eye contact. You just kept smiling — smug and satisfied.

The karaoke booth is bathed in neon pinks and purples, soft lights bouncing off the walls. Empty soda cans and half-eaten snacks litter the table. Owen lounges like the whole place belongs to him—one leg propped up, shirt slightly rumpled from the heat, hair unfairly perfect. He’s got a mic in hand like it’s a trophy. You toss a popcorn kernel at him. He dodges it with an exaggerated grimace. “Face it,” he says, smirking as he scrolls through the song queue. “You just had to hear me sing again.” You roll your eyes, lips tugging into a grin. “You queued Beyoncé after Taemin. You’re not giving anyone else a chance.” He raises a brow, smug. “Would you rather I picked Queen? I am British, after all.” The first beat of a power ballad kicks in, and Owen is already performing like he’s on stage at an awards show. Eyes closed, voice smooth, gestures theatrical—he even throws in a spin at the chorus. When he finishes with a mock bow, you whistle and clap. “You practice that in the mirror?” you tease. “I don’t practice, darling,” he says, tossing you a wink. “I’m just naturally gifted.” You snort. “Must be exhausting being this humble.” He grins and leans in, forearms on his knees, voice dropping into something low and teasing. “You like it. Admit it. You dragged me out here just to watch me sing and look pretty for you.” “You really think I need an excuse to look at you?” That wipes the smug off his face—just for a second. He recovers quickly, flashing a grin that's a little too sharp. And then, the next song auto-queues—a slow, soulful R&B track that doesn’t match the chaos from before. You stretch your legs across the booth, brushing against his. He doesn’t move away. He eyes you sideways. “So, is that how you seduce people? Bad pop music and stolen fries?” You shrug. “Worked on you, didn’t it?” He scoffs, clearly trying not to smile. “Hardly. I’m just generous with my attention.” “Oh? So this is charity?” you ask, voice lilting, deliberately innocent. Owen shifts closer, turning slightly to face you, a spark flickering behind his gaze. “Maybe I just like the view.” You lean in, grin lazy and sweet. “Careful, Knight. Keep talking like that and I might not hold back.” Your voice dips lower, smooth and devilish. “Might have to climb into your lap and sing the next verse there. Real close. Just to check if your voice still holds steady.” Owen blinks, caught off guard. His lips part—maybe to recover,but nothing comes out. You sit back with practiced ease, sipping your drink like you didn’t just throw him off his game. “Your move, karaoke king.” And just like that, you out-freaked him.

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Was procrastinating on this for so long but it’s finally done!!! YAYYYYYY🥳🥳🥳 plsss ignore the typos and everything

dedications: @dzvelinaskebiyars @shintaru

[lilacliquors]

kinktober day ten: fucking machine

pairing: phillip graves x reader

word count: 807

notes: welcome to day ten! i've been so looking forward to writing this all day even though i had a nasty nail break at work whoops but LOOK IT'S MY MAN MY MAN MY MAN

phillip graves was a busy man. he was the ceo and commander of one of the world’s largest private military companies, and he was running back and forth like a mad man. he always tried to make time for you, but sometimes, there just weren’t enough hours in the day. and he missed you like crazy, it was no secret. he knew it, his men knew it, and most of all, you knew it. and that was why a recent purchase of his didn’t shock you too much.

“it doesn’t replace the real thing, but it’s good enough,” he’d said when he showed it to you, and after laughing a bit, you had to agree.

he’d purchased you an automatic fucking machine, something for you to use in his absence. and while you both preferred the real thing, it was damn near close enough to him, you had to wonder if he’d done one of those molds, just for you.

and now, it was time to break it in, and send him the evidence.

he was busy, off in mexico on an assignment, when he got the message from you. worried, he excused himself from a debrief and went off to his private quarters, a bit of anxiety welling in his chest. when he was alone, he opened his phone and saw that it wasn’t a text, or an audio message, but a video. arching a brow, he clicked on it, and it began to play. 

thank god he was alone.

the sight was obscene, deliciously so. you were on your back, your phone propped up at just the right angle, and the brand new toy he’d purchased for you was slowly pumping in and out of you. his eyes hungrily gazed at the recording, watching one of your hands grip your breast while the other reached down you spread those pretty folds, and rub gentle circles on your clit. the sounds of the machine mixed with your moans, and god, how he missed you, how vocal you were, how eager you were.

“oh, phil …” your voice whispered, just loud enough to hear over the whir of the machine. this was downright sinful, and he was glad he’d left religion behind long ago. he could feel himself growing hard in his jeans, so with his free hand, he unbutton them, and slipped his hand under the waistband of them, and his boxers. his hand wrapped around his leaking cock, and as he watched that pretty pussy of yours get stretched, he pumped his hand in time with the rhythm of the machine.

“that’s it, baby,” he muttered, watching the video intently. “so good for me …”

he continued to stroke his cock, watching your face as you let the machine hit just the right spot to make your toes curl, and he could feel an almost primal growl bubble up in his throat. how badly he wanted to be there with you; on top of you, behind you, inside of you …

he continued to watch intently, his heart pounding his his chest as he watched your lips part slightly, your eyes squeeze shut, and your brows pinch together. he knew you were so close to that orgasm, and so was he. he watched your chest heave, your muscles tense, all of your tells in one perfect video. and just as you were about to cum …

“o-oh my god, oh my god, oh - oh phillip! oh!”

that sent him over the edge. his legs nearly buckled beneath him as he came over his hand and boxers to the sound of you crying out for him in his absence. he had no idea how badly he’d needed to hear that until just then. he leaned back against the wall, his face damp with sweat and hot with exertion. but the video wasn’t over yet.

he watched as you fumbled for the remote to stop it, and whirring sound died. the room was silent, save for your soft, panting breaths. then, you looked at the camera with those beautiful eyes he loved so much, and you smiled. it was a soft, blissful, fucked out smile.

“i miss you, baby. come home soon,” you said, your voice soft. then you blew a kiss to the camera, got up, and crawled over to stop recording. despite what he’d just seen and done, he smiled, and he closed the video to go back to his text messages. he hit the microphone icon, and began to record an audio message for you.

“appreciate the gift, darlin’. i’ll be back as soon as i can. be good for me, love you.”

he hit send, then exhaled a bit. he had some cleaning up to do before he went back out to his men. 

and he had a cover story to whip up.

[courtingchaos]

Bad Man

Steve Harrington x Fem Reader

Summary: Steve is always asking you the same question. Do you think you’ll ever give him a different answer?

A/N: hm. This one got away from me. Went in too many directions and I had a hard time settling with it. Hope you guys enjoy it all the same ❤️

Warnings: Cheating (reader has a bf), Sex, Mentions of driving drunk, Two drunk people having sex, Fingering, Unprotected Sex

NSFW 18+ No Minors

Oh and I won’t ask a single question

A question about who you’re supposed to be

I already know the answer

And the answer

Is you’re right here with me - Bad Man; Fightmaster

“When are you gonna let me take you out?” He asks, leaned over the partition of his register to smile at you. He props his chin on a folded up arm and lets the other one dangle free, his watch clacking against the wood.

“Take me out? Like on a date?”

“No.” He scoffs. “Like a hitman. Of course on a date.” He rolls his eyes, warm hazel full of mirth at his own joke. “C’mon. I know this cute little place over near Marion. Cozy, dim.” He tilts his head and watches you from under his lashes. “Perfect for a date.”

You sigh. You laugh too but the sigh is the precedent you need to set. “I’m sure it is.”

“I mean I know we’re playing this whole game of hard to get, but just admit it.” A customer comes up to his register with a baby on her hip and a handful of formula. “You’ve been got.” He winks at you before turning around to turn on his customer voice. An octave higher and a bigger grin, the lascivious one he’d been giving you gone while he coos at the infant. You bite your tongue though, holding your retort back for later. You know he’s going to corner you in the break room after you both clock out, his shoulder pressed into the row of lockers to ask you again.

“When are you gonna let me take you out?”

It’s his weekly question for you always asked with a grin and short laugh like he knows the answer is going to be different than last week. You tidy up your register and flip aimlessly through your stack of laminated grocery codes and pretend to not look up at the back of his head. He’s been out in the sun recently, lighter brown streaks shot through the darker. His fingers that run through the shaggy locks have a golden hue to them, the moles that pepper his skin dark in contrast to the glow. Broad shoulders flex under his polo and that laugh, as fake as it is, makes you smile to yourself.

So no you aren’t staring and no he isn’t taking you anywhere. A glance down at your watch tells you there’s approximately 47 minutes before you’re off. 47 minutes before you have to let him down again like he doesn’t already know.

The locker door swings shut and you laugh, something from the back of your throat. His smile is bright in the corner of your vision, teeth white and straight behind pink lips.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just think I’m getting my psychic visions under control finally.”

“Hm.” His brow furrows before he pushes himself off the lockers. “I’ve got a friend who’s good at that, I can give you her number.”

You can’t be mad at him but you are tired. “What do you want Steve?”

“You know what I’m gonna ask.”

“And you know what I’m gonna say.”

That smile drops off his face. Shoulders relaxed while he shoves his hands into his coat pockets and he scuffs a shoe against the linoleum floor. “Can you tell me something?” He scratches at his eyebrow and squints past you.

“What?” You wonder what else he needs to know about your uneventful life.

“What does he do for you?”

“What?” You ask again and aggressively blink at him while you clutch your bag to your hip.

“What does he do for you? Like, ever.” He asks it so plainly like it isn’t some direct invasion into your life. You want to snap at him and tell him to mind his own business but you stop. It isn’t his fault that he doesn’t think this is out of line, who else do you tell first thing every work day when your boyfriend has fucked up again?

“He…he’s my boyfriend, Steve. He does a lot for me.” You yank on your bag to finalize your lame reason. “I don’t have to tell you everything he does for me.”

“No, but I don’t think you’ve ever said one positive thing about him.”

“He has so many-” You cut yourself off because you can’t even lie about that. He doesn’t have so many positives. He might have two and it’s that he’s never raised his voice at you and he doesn’t get on to you when you forget to pay the water bill on time again. Steve looks at you expectantly but you just huff at him.

“I’m not going on a date with you.” You’ve never said it like that before, so plainly. To his credit Steve doesn’t flinch, just nods his head deeply and swings his keys around his finger while avoiding your gaze.

“Understood.”

The routine of every closing shift with Steve goes the same. He shows up five minutes before he has to clock in to find you reading your last chapter in your book. He’ll compare lunches with you and you’ll talk about your leftovers and he’ll ask.

“Oh, did you make dinner again?”

Steve won’t put any feeling into that question. A simple tilt of his head, a comment about how it sounds delicious. A joke about how you should invite him and Robin to dinner some night because neither of them can cook more than mac and cheese without fear of burning something.

You’ll both head up to the front office to find your night manager and Steve will bump elbows with you on every other step. He’ll talk about the game that was on the night before and you’ll nod along. Rich, your boyfriend, also watched the game but it wasn’t as interesting as when Steve tells you. You’ll tamp that thought down though before it grows legs and runs away with your better judgement. He’ll ask about your night and when you don’t have anything to say?

“What’d you and Rich get up to then?”

The usual. He watched TV and yelled at the Packers for loosing again and you made dinner after being on your feet all day, unlike him and his office job.

“You know,” you’ll say “he’s home a full four hours before me and still didn’t take the chicken out of the freezer.”

Steve will nod and frown while he counts his till before turning on his light for the customers.

“Every night?”

“Every night! And he didn’t wash my sweater again. I swear I’m speaking friggin’ Greek some nights.”

Steve will sigh and huff along with you. He’ll bitch about his date the previous weekend, how she wasn’t interested in hearing about his hiking trip with Robin. How it seemed that it was more a pity date than anything.

“You and Rich got any plans this weekend?”

Of course not. You can’t remember the last time he took you out on a date, much less even went with you to the grocery store. Another slip up in your tales to Steve when you derail and tell him this. Barely a date night in the past year and every time you’ve brought it up it’s met with a sigh. With a hand wave and a promise for next month, when things calm down at work. When he isn’t so tired.

“What’s he working so hard for?”

You wouldn’t know if you even cared to ask. It’s in these conversations where you realize a few things. Every day gives you a new insight and Steve more fodder for his never ending question.

You like working Saturday’s with Steve because Robin usually shows up at closing and he’ll invite you out for a drink. She’s funny and he plays off of her well and by the end of the night you’ve usually forgotten that you’re probably showing up to an empty apartment.

“I’m not leaving until I see you walk in.” Robin chirps, her seat pulled too far up into the steering wheel. She’s the soberest out of the three of you and you roll your eyes at her with a giggle. “I know Rich is there but-”

“No he’s not.” Steve cuts in from the backseat. You see him shake his head in the rear view and Robin gives you an open look.

“Oh don’t get all weird with me, he’s just out with his own friends.”

“He doesn’t invite you out too?” Steve mumbles from the dark.

“Steve.” Robin warns over her shoulder.

“No, it’s okay. They get together earlier than I get off work.” You play with the zipper of your jacket and don’t make eye contact. “I don’t really like his friends anyways.”

“He should get new friends then.”

“Steve.” Robin turns her head sharply to stare into the dark backseat where her roommate sits in the shadows. There’s a silent game of chicken happening between them, something tense and unsaid and you unlock your door to try and cut the rising emotions.

“Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it.”

“Let me walk you-”

“I’m okay, thank you though.” You smile through the headrests at Steve and his insistence, his eyes glassy in the light from the street lamps. You stumble only a little on your way out of the car and once you make it to your door, darkened window greeting you like normal, you can hear the muffled volume of Steve and Robin arguing before she drives them both home.

Steve hasn’t asked you for a date in over a month. He still keeps close to you during working hours but he doesn’t hang in the break room. On Saturday he doesn’t ask you out with him and Robin and he doesn’t ask if you have any plans that weekend.

“Is Robin picking you up?” You ask timidly from inside your locker where you have your head buried, pretending to look for your wallet.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. We’re going to a friends house for a game night.” He waits for you by the door, still intent on walking you to your car. You’re waiting for him to do the courteous thing and ask if you have plans but when he stays silent you bring them up anyways.

“I actually have plans this weekend.”

“No shit?” He sounds surprised but you think you weren’t supposed to see the eye roll.

“Yeah, Rich is taking me to that little place in Marion.” You give him a big grin. “He said he heard good things, wanted to take me somewhere nice.” Deep down you want him to be jealous. You want Steve to feel a little bad for shit talking your boyfriend, even if you agreed with him. You know you shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place, none of his fuck ups or passive attitude, but maybe this could make up for it. Maybe you could show Steve you didn’t have that poor of taste.

Steve nods and bites his bottom lip. You wait for him to open his mouth to say something snippy but he lets the conversation die. He waits for you still, to walk you to your car, but when he gets you to your door he tells you to try the vodka sauce at this little restaurant and leaves you with a small wave while he hunches into the car.

Dinner is…fine.

It’s fine! Rich definitely took you to dinner and he did hold the door open for you and yeah the sauce was amazing and so what you had a brief ten minute interlude of quite between you and your boyfriend where you thought, briefly, about Steve sitting across from you and explaining the different types of pasta that his friend Eddie was learning in his culinary classes.

Then later during the quiet drive home when Rich had turned the radio over to some game he’d missed for your date you’d maybe had let your mind wander again, a wide palm that would rest on your knee and squeeze. Fingers that drift inwards with a promise for a continuation, conversation that makes you fawn and giggle and-

Steve pops up behind you while you shove your purse into your locker. “So, how was dinner?”

“It was fine!” Maybe a bit too snappy with the way he pulls his head back but you flash him a smile.

“Fine?”

“Yeah.”

He leans a shoulder on the lockers beside you, a curious look on his face. “Just fine?”

You swallow when the hand that scratches at his chin brushes your arm on the way down. “Yes Steve. It was…nice.”

“Oh now it’s nice.”

Your sigh is loud and full of exasperation. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to know how your dinner went.” He’s picking on you. That easy grin tells you everything.

“No, you want to know if he messed up somehow.”

“Maybe.”

“He was fine.”

“Oh then I could definitely do it better.”

That makes you pause. Your eyes flick between his trying to decipher his angle while you try to ignore how you can feel the heat coming off of him standing this close. “Excuse me?” It comes out quieter than you meant.

“If I take you out it isn’t gonna just be ‘fine’.” He scoffs.

“If?”

“It’s just a matter of time now.” He slides forward along the locker doors, face closer to yours, enough to feel the edge of his breath he huffs through his nose. “How many more ‘just fine’ dates do you want?” There’s a shift in his demeanor. A squaring of shoulders when he crosses his arms, his gaze softer as he looks down his nose at you.

“Steve, I-” You jump when the break room door opens and he just stands up straight to tug his shirt down before he raises an eyebrow and walks around you to head to work.

“You free tonight?” He asks you during lunch, half his sandwich shoved in his mouth.

“For what?”

“Drinks.”

“You don’t have another game night?” You try to ask it playfully but it comes off a little snooty. All throughout your date you’d caught yourself drifting and wishing you were at that stupid little hole in the wall with Robin and Steve. Once you’d realized how the night was gonna go all you could think about was Steve buying you another round, another cheep beer or the nickel shot of the night. How he’d circle his arm around to place the drink in front of you, careful to wrap himself around your back for a moment.

“Nope.” He pops the word for emphasis and gives you a dopey grin. “All free for you.”

It makes you bashful but what does he do that doesn’t? When you’re finished with your food he wordlessly grabs his trash and yours, even your empty tupperware to rinse it out.

“You don’t have to do that Steve, I have hands.”

“I’m being nice.” He hands you back the dried container. “It’s just a dish.”

But that’s the thing, isn’t it? It isn’t just a dish. His arm brushes yours on your walk back to your registers and you barely keep up with his story about the art gallery with Robin from a few days ago. Lost in the little moments of things he does for you just at work, like walking you to your car. Rinsing your dish out for you and grabbing extra stacks of bags when he’s grabbing his own. Small, minute little things that he just does without you having to ask. It’s a strange concept to you, not having to ask for the small things.

“You aren’t listening are you?” He smiles at you again without irritation or an eye roll. Another thing you haven’t had the privilege of in a long time with Rich.

“I’m not, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll hold you hostage later and explain what Robin told me about the Haitian art.” He hooks an arm around your shoulders to pull you in. “All it’ll cost you is a single round.”

“Deal.”

Robin is nowhere to be found after work. The parking lot holds just a handful of cars, yours included, and no maroon beemer in sight.

“Are we meeting her there?”

“Uh, no.”

You pause with your key in the driver door. Turned away from him so you don’t have to look at him when you ask. “So just us then?”

“Mhm.”

What you should do is tell him no. Give him a ride home and then head back to your place where you can make a single serving of something and then fade away in front of the TV until your boyfriend calls you from his trip entirely too late and wakes you up.

Instead, “This isn’t a date, okay?” You get in your car and unlock the passenger side for him.

“Sure.”

“I mean it Steve.”

“That’s why you’re buying the first round.” He’s all wide grins and quiet giggles that turn infectious while you navigate to the bar. He finally has your attention so he finishes his art gallery spiel and you have to ask, it’s something that’s been burning in your back pocket forever.

“So when you go on all these dates, is Robin upset or…”

“We’re not together.” Steve sighs and shakes his head. “It really isn’t like that, we’re just friends.”

“Yeah but you two get along so well.”

“It’s…complicated.” He isn’t cutting you off but it’s the answer he’s giving you right now. “Not between us though, we really are just friends.” He points out the street you’re supposed to turn on and you have to make a quick right. “You got nothing to worry about.”

“I’m not worried.” You shoot him a glare as you park, the sudden silence when you turn off the car deafening. “First round on me, right?”

You open a tab when you get there, hellbent on paying your own way to prove to yourself that you aren’t trying to turn this into a date. It’s two friends hanging out, that’s it, and Rich wouldn’t care anyways because you’re allowed to have friends.

You buy your friend Steve a beer and he tells you about his parents retiring to Florida and you talk about your mom’s new boyfriend. Your empty barely hits the table and Steve has a cold can waiting, sliding it across the table at you.

He talks about his friends Nancy and Johnathan getting married and you vaguely mention that Rich is out of town for his brother’s bachelor party. Two shots get set down in front of you and the conversation gets louder with the music and the crowd.

You forget the lines you drew for yourself and reach a hand over to tap Steve’s leg while you’re trying to remember the next part of your story. His nose is red from the cheap whiskey but his cheeks flush when you have to use him for support when you stand, hot palm pressed into the thick of his thigh.

Steve listens to you talk about the drawing class your taking and when you think your starting to bore him he waves you off with a laugh.

“What would give you that idea?”

“I don’t know, Rich kind of drifts if it isn’t about him.” You’ve got enough liquor in your system to start bypassing your filter and you tell it like it is. “He doesn’t give a shit about my ‘stupid little class’.”

“His words or yours?” Steve asks over the rim of his beer. You just shoot him a look and take your shot with a grimace. “Well, keep going. I want to hear more about it.”

The night goes by quicker than expected and suddenly you’re drunk. You realize this while standing in the single stall bathroom while you hold yourself up over the sink to stare at your reflection.

“Get it together.” You make yourself chuckle. “Seriously, what’s going on with your mascara?” You swipe your still wet hands under your lashes to wipe away the black fallout. A moment of embarrassment when you think about Steve seeing you like that but he’d been laughing too, and the bar was dark.

“It doesn’t matter.” You point at your reflection. “He laughed at your jokes.” Your smile is florescent in this dingy bathroom for only a moment when you remember those lines you laid so carefully and then so quickly crossed. The corners of your mouth fall and you sway when you stand up too fast. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t be drunk. You shouldn’t be here and drunk with only Steve.

Almost as if he’s heard your thoughts he’s knocking at the door rapid fire while a muffled voice tells him that’s the ladies room. “I know, I’m looking for my lady.” He laughs and the girl laughs and you start laughing and god you can’t keep a thought in your head now after what, 6 shots? 3 beers? You open the door and Steve greets you with a surprised face and an arm around your middle.

“See, I found her!”

“Steve,” you giggle against his shoulder while he walks you to the bar so he can pay the tab you were supposed to be picking up, “I shouldn’t drive.”

“Then I’ll drive.” He looks down his shoulder at you with hazy eyes.

“I don’t think you should drive either.” You’re slurring makes him laugh and under his right arm he reaches his left hand through to grab your fingers pulling at his coat.

“A cab then.”

“You’re so smart, you know that?” You stare at him in awe before laughing again, your fingers flexing in his grip and staying put.

Steve blushes doubly so with the alcohol and your words going to one of his heads. He whips his head to the bartender waiting for her pen back and he smiles brightly at her. “One cab please.”

You both fall into the bar top giggling while this poor bartender rolls her eyes and drops the phone in front of Steve so he can call for his own chariot.

He follows you right into the back seat and falls directly onto your side when your shoe catches on the rubber mat that lines the floorboards. The driver looks back at the two of you caught in laughter and sighs, waiting for one of you to give him an address. When you try to give Steve’s first he tuts and gives the driver yours instead, “That way I know you got back safe.” His breath tinged with cheap beer brushes your cheek, his nose almost pressing in if only you’d turn your head a little more.

“Yeah okay.” Instead you just look at him from the corner of your eye while your heart beats a hundred miles an hour. Steve adjusts as best he can, his limbs heavy with liquor so he just huffs into his corner of the bench seat, halfassed clipping his seat belt on.

“I mean it. Rich isn’t there.” Air quotes around your boyfriend’s name and a deep mocking frown accompany it.

“Steve.”

“What? You said he was gone.” He rolls his eyes but closes his mouth when he sees you getting that little notch between your brows. He drops his hand off his lap and inches it over the seat till he’s reaching out to poke your leg once. Twice when you don’t react and then hesitantly he hooks his pinky out for yours draped over your thigh.

God his hand is warm. You can feel it through your jeans where the side of it rests against you. He hooks his pinky and you don’t move a single digit on your hand for fear of turning this into something it shouldn’t be. You feel sober suddenly when it hits you where you are and with who.

“Hey.” He tugs your hand till it falls onto the seat and he can grab it. You don’t fight it, not when his voice has that gravel to it from speaking all day. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Steve starts to let your hand go but he’s taking that warmth with him and you finally latch on to him, holding his hand down against your leg. You lean over to lay your head on his shoulder and stare out the windshield. It’s foggy out, the mist collecting on the glass to starburst the streetlights and you stay pressed against him.

The cab comes to a stop in front of your building and before anyone can say anything you finally look up at Steve. A tug on his hand and a quiet question only for him. “You wanna come up?”

The stairs try to trip you but Steve is there with a balancing hand at your hip. When you fumble with your keys he holds out his palm for them and you hope he can’t see the nerves rolling off of you. Your apartment is dark just like you expected but for the first time ever it seems to hold a promise in it, something in the shadows that doesn’t feel so sad. Behind you Steve closes the door and cuts off the light streaming in from the hallway and a switch is flicked inside you.

He’s right there when you turn around to grab the front of his coat and press your lips to his. No startled noise just his hands coming up to cradle your head. You cling to the front of him and he tries to sooth you with thumbs rubbing gently across your cheekbones.

None of this matters in the dark and you need him, need him to understand that. You turn into a flurry of movement trying to get him out of his layers. He laughs and breaks the kiss while you push at the lapels of his coat and tear at the buttons on his polo. You’ve spent months staring at the back of him, his broad shoulders and sun kissed skin. The moles that dot his neck and the chestnut hair that he’s always futzing with.

He’s running those big hands down your neck and over your shoulders.

“We don’t have to rush.” His voice cuts through the quiet hum of the appliances and runs down your spine with its deep timber. “No one else is here.”

He dips his head to kiss you again but the fervor is gone, replaced instead by a slow build of want. He pulls your bottom lip between his teeth to gently bite and you melt into his chest. Hands lay limp against him while he begins your undoing with his kisses. They trail off to your cheek and to your ear and when he’s at your jaw his jacket falls from his shoulders.

He works at your clothes methodically the same way his mouth works at your neck and when you try to tug him towards your bedroom he pauses.

“We don’t have to go in there.” He gives you a soft look, almost pitying. “The couch is just as good.” A small smile against your small frown.

“I want to.” You pull and he steps with you. “It’s my bed anyways.”

Your back hits the bed and he follows you down with laughter and roaming hands. They pull at his own clothes and yours till you finally can touch all that warm skin of his, fingertips tracing between moles on his chest inbetween sloppy kisses.

You can’t remember the last time you felt want like this. Everywhere his fingers drag feels like live wires under your skin. They dance along your collar bones and behind your knees, sensitive skin graced with featherlight touch.

“Please.” You pant while he kisses along your jaw.

“Please what?” He drags his touch up the inside of your thigh and grazes your mound, dancing around where you want him most.

“Please touch me.” Your voice wobbles with emotion, unshed tears stuck behind your lashes. The nerves of the night settle deep into your bones, deep enough you think you might shake apart with them. Long fingers split you open, a slow drag upwards till he hits that ache that you’ve been ignoring all night. Uneven circles drawn while he pants against the side of your neck, open mouthed kiss pressed into your pulse.

Deft fingers pull your pleasure forward quick, a practiced hand between your legs that rivals your own. He hasn’t come up for air since he planted his face against you, tongue and teeth working in tandem against the sensitive spot under your ear while those long fingers dip lower. You can feel his smile like a tattoo on the front of your throat when he sinks one finger in, and then two, his moan singing along with your gasp. Quickly the pads of his fingers find that spot and your knees snap together around his wrist.

“Right there?” It’s all breath in his ask, your nod vigorous. “Come on.” He grits and keeps his pace up while you spiral when he presses the heel of his palm down. “Come on baby, let go.” Teeth scrape against your neck and help to send you over the edge while you grind down on his hand firmly to chase the tails of your pleasure.

Aimless kisses help bring you back to focus along with Steve’s hands gripping you to slide you down the bed. Hooked in the bend of your hips he jerks you to him, thighs hitting his and his cock is there against you suddenly. Hot and heavy between your thighs when he leans down over you to catch your lips in a deep kiss. Short rolls of his hips make him catch on your overly sensitive clit to make your legs shake just a little more.

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about this?” He says against your mouth, sloppy and desperate as he ruts against your heat. “I think about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” You sound just as desperate, rolling hips meeting his own so he can keep nudging your clit. The tip of his cock edges lower but too slow, especially now with him staring wide eyed at you and panting.

“When you went to Marion I-fuck” He looses his composure when you sneak a hand between your bodies to help guide him, fingers wrapped around the thick length. “-I thought about crashing your date.”

You choke on your ‘what?’ when he finally sinks in and the size of him makes you gasp. He pauses for a moment when his eyes slip shut and you hold him between your thighs. When he doesn’t move you shift to get his attention and those blown out eyes find yours in the dark. Hands planted beside your head to cage you in and all you want to look at is his open expression. The grin he wears so well flashed at you while he rocks himself deeper.

“I know it’s crazy.” He half laughs as he starts a deliberate pace. “You make me feel crazy.” Every thrust is a punch of pleasure against that spot he’d found earlier. Precise and slow he drags this out so he can watch your face fall slack.

“I’m sorry.” You sob when he drives in deep and makes your eyes roll.

“No, no it’s me. You’re just-“ he hisses at your nails dragging behind his neck and up into his hair to grab fistfuls, pulling him down closer.

He takes the opportunity to kiss along your collar and mumble against your chest, slurred words only for your ears. Small bites along the swell of your breast and his long fingers rolling a nipple between his knuckles to make your breath hitch. He calls you beautiful and perfect and if you weren’t heading fast into your second orgasm you might cry from the attention.

Everything is big and hot in here. Louder and quieter at the same time. Steve holds onto you while he fucks you, hands gripping and lips searching. No marks but he lets his teeth nip at bared skin before he moves on, letting his fingers press into soft fat at the backs of your thighs and chest. You haven’t felt this kind of passion in a long time, the never ending want for more. You need him deeper, you need him to cover you completely. You want him to suck marks into your skin so you can see them in the morning and know this wasn’t you letting your fantasies get out of control again.

A faltering in his movement before he speeds up, hot breath fanning over your cheek where he kisses wetly up and down and to your ear, his quiet moans making your toes curl. It’s the deep, halting groan that pours out of him when he comes that has you clenching. He grips at you to hold you in place while you shake under him and he talks you down off your precipice. Mumbled praise and reminders of your beauty while sweat begins to cool. He doesn’t let his full weight fall on you but he does lay over your chest, skin sticking and sliding as his hand searches for yours to hook fingers together.

Beside your head you can hear him taking breath, readying to say something and you have a moment of doubt suddenly. He’s told you too much and not enough and maybe your brain is staring to catch up to your actions.

“I’m not drunk enough to say something stupid, but I need you to know something.” He uses his free hand to prop himself to hover over you, his grin skewed over his flushed cheeks. “I really like you.” A stray hair gets pushed out of your rapidly narrowing vision. His look is too soft and his wandering hand too light. It makes you shed a few tears that he seems to catch in the dim light.

“Steve…don’t…” You try to bury your face in the pillows but he’s quick to turn you back to face him.

“Don’t what? Tell you?” His grip on your chin is firm but his fingers don’t press in. He holds you still while his bloodshot eyes flick back and forth over your own. “I don’t…if you want me to leave I can do that.” It’s not a threat but it makes your heart seize regardless. “I’m just not gonna come in here and pretend like this is a one off or something.”

Knees still pressed to his hips holding him close, legs locked behind his knees where he kneels, you slide your hands up his sides for more points of contact. He’s real under your palms. Breathing and hot and sweating and telling you how he feels. The two orgasms barely hold a candle to the blossoming feeling in your stomach when he stares down at you with care.

“Steve-“

“Do you want me to stay?”

“I don’t think-“

“Yes or no.” He sits back with his arms spread wide. “I can go right now and we can pretend this didn’t happen.” He looks hurt when he says that but he holds your teary gaze. “I’ll get my shifts moved so you don’t even have to see me at work.”

You reach for him again, need him under your hands to ground you in the moment. “Don’t do that.” Face pushed into his shoulder sloppily when you rush up to meet him in the middle of your bed.

“If it makes it easier-“

“I don’t want it easier.” You hush. “I want you to stay.” A gentle tug at him to follow you back to the pillows. “Please.”

He falls easily with you, gets his arms around your shoulders to roll you into his embrace. “Okay.” Fingers over your scalp and down your neck to sooth your heavy breathing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He smells like the bar and his soap and the remnants of cologne that cling to his jacket. Scruff from a full day rubs against your forehead while you get comfortable against his chest and presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your bedroom is quieter than normal with his heartbeat under your ear and his breathing above you, a steady hum that calms you down. You begin drifting off when the liquor catches up to your satiated brain and your fingers loose some of their grip on his sides.

You think he’s still asleep with how quiet the room is but his voice is a deep rumble in the morning after. “Robin is going to kill me.”

You can hear the rub of his palms over his face and through his hair, that deep groan when he rolls either away or towards you, you’re not sure.

You find your own voice then, creaky and worn from yelling laughter at him all night through cheap whiskey shots. “I thought it wasn’t like that.”

“It isn’t.” His long fingers creep over your shoulder to pull gently. “She told me to leave you alone.” When you don’t unwind from yourself he uses you for leverage and rolls into your back, arm snaking around your waist. “And I told her I would.” A chaste kiss pressed to the back of your neck that makes you shiver, nothing chaste in the way it makes your chest flutter. “Obviously I lied, and she’s not fond of me lying to her.”

You turn your head slowly to look at him over your shoulder, mainly trying to prevent a wave of nausea but also to hold off the inevitable guilt hanging over you from dropping like a guillotine. In the late morning rainy light he’s even more handsome, bed-warm and rumpled. His hair sticks up on one side where it was pressed into your pillow, same pillow leaving lines on his cheek. He looks soft and out of focus and warm.

You expect that guilt to bubble up and spill out of your mouth in a wail but it doesn’t exist; there is no guillotine here.

You shuffle onto your back so you can look at him more intently, so you can stare at the green flecks in his brown eyes that roam over your face. “If anyone is gonna be in trouble, I think it’s me.” Barely a wobble to your words. He slides his hand up your stomach, fingers coming to rest in the valley between your breast. No rabbit heart under his palm. No gasping breaths to steady yourself under his gaze. You’ve made your bed and you would really like to lie in it, consequences be damned.

“It was fun.”

“It was.” You blink at him slowly. Rain patters against the glass and the clock in the kitchen ticks down the rest of your day. He tucks his other arm up under his head to look at you better before he sighs.

“I can go. If it’s easier.” Repeats himself from last night but your answer hasn’t changed. You frown lightly but don’t answer and he seems to take that as his sign to get up.

“No.” You reach out for his arm before he can set his feet on the floor. “I don’t want you to go.”

He laughs through his nose before settling in an upright position. “You don’t seem convinced.” A thumb to his nose twice while he stares at a spot at the foot of your bed.

“I’m thinking.” You sit up next to him and lean into his back facing you. Cheek resting on the back of his shoulder you stare at the moles that dot his skin and run a finger between them.

“About?”

“Breakfast.”

His laugh is louder than you expect but it’s nice to hear. “Hungover?”

A dry kiss where your cheek was resting before you scoot to your side of the bed in search of your underwear. “Something like that.”

Quiet shuffling while you two get dressed, Steve wincing at the smell of the bar stuck in his shirt that he shoves over his head. When he passes you to go look for his wallet he stops to lean down for a kiss. Unhurried and soft it leaves you with that same deep want from last night, especially when he hides a grin as he turns away. Bashful like you two weren’t just drunkenly fooling around until the early morning hours.

“There’s a place just do-“

Shrill ringing cuts you off on your way to the front door and you both stop to stare at the phone hanging in the kitchen. Steve looks suddenly adrift in your apartment, unsure while probably Rich tries to call you at too early a time. You let it go until it stops and the silence sits between you until Steve clears his throat.

“You still wanna get breakfast?” Quiet now that reality has stuck its nose back in. He shifts his weight from one hip to the other and you reach over for him, hands sliding under his jacket for a loose hug.

Your smile might be sad and the turn of his chin down at you shows the shadow of doubt on his mind but you wanted this. He did too and the aftermath of your shared night sits around you. The chair out of place from running into it, your shoes kicked in front of the tv and your bed just out of sight with its sheets melting onto the floor.

Guilt doesn’t exist here. Not when Steve told you all his secrets last night. Not now with the memory of gentle kisses and burning touch still searing your skin. You’ll face the consequences tomorrow when your normal comes back into town but for now, “Yeah, I do.”

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

"Bradley! What did you do?!"

Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 

You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"

He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."

You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 

For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 

"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"

You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."

"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 

Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.

-------------------------

It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 

There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 

You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.

"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."

Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 

Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 

Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 

"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.

"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 

His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."

Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"

"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."

"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.

"Thanks for my birthday dinner."

You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"

"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 

You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 

He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 

"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  

"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 

He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"

You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.

-------------------------------

When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 

Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.

"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 

"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."

You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."

He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 

You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"

"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."

"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"

"Yep."

"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."

You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."

Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."

"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"

"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.

"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 

"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 

There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 

"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.

This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"

"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.

You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"

"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 

"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 

"Aren't you my present?" 

You smirked. "I got you something else, too."

"I want it."

When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."

So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 

Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 

"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  

"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.

He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 

Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 

"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"

"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."

You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."

He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."

Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"

"Shit. I might like March the best now."

"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 

"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 

"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."

"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 

But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 

"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 

He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 

"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 

"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"

But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.

"I do have a request."

He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 

You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."

You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"

He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.

"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."

"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"

"Yes."

He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 

"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 

"Bradley!" you whined. 

"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."

You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.

"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 

"No. Keep going."

----------------------------

It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 

"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.

Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."

When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 

"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.

"Did you like that?"

He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."

You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 

"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."

He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"

Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 

"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"

"Oh. You really liked that."

"I really liked that."

-------------------------

Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 

"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."

He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."

"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."

He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 

Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.

Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 

Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 

"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.

"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 

"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."

"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."

"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."

He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 

"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 

"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 

Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."

------------------------------

Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 24

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

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[paintedonmyteeth]

You Will Always Be Mine. ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

As I mentioned in some other post w/ my Ghostface hcs— here’s the mini fic w/ prosthetics from Slipknot as inspiration :)) I also used some other stuff from Slipknot like Vermilion and Iowa just to get the whole set in my head and it was fucking difficult at first for me to figure out the opening for this drkgenrgkjdgjnskdverlb my mind went places so fast I was internally giggling like some maniac while writing this 💀💀 Please forgive me this looks like shit even though I edited it over :”)) Before I forget I’ve also got the mini fic posted on my Ao3 which you can read here.

Danny’s eyes fluttered closed, his nose nestled in your hair as he deeply inhaled the scent of your shampoo that always clung to you. Exhaling sharply as his head reeled slowly from your personal space with a quiet groan of satisfaction escaping him. His arms tighten around your unconscious form cradled in his hold, his footsteps carrying confidence as he silently strides through the darkened halls of your home. He finally caved in after a handful of months, watching you from afar whenever he wasn’t busy tormenting some other poor Roseville resident on those nights. Hell, it felt like torture; you being so blissfully unaware of his presence as you’re going about your day-to-day routines. 

Fuck, everything about you just made it so difficult to do his work properly.

Danny never thought, a potential victim of his, would take root inside his mind and fester like an open wound. He adored and loved everything about you. The color of your eyes, your smell, the way you dress, your voice, the sound of your laughter, and that gorgeous smile of yours. Everything.  He can’t even find the words to describe how much he loved you, he was obsessed with you. He had some of your missing belongings, a shit ton of photos of you, anything of yours. Enough stuff to build a shrine completely dedicated to you, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted you, he needed to keep you all to himself. As he propped open the back door with his boot and stepped outside into the crisp cool night air with your body still tucked close to him, the neighborhood was fairly silent other than the faint barks from a dog on some other street as he made it over to his car and carefully set you down lying in the car seat at the back before moving around to climb into the driver’s seat. 

Car key in, ignition started, and he was slowly pulling out from the sidewalks with a grin marring his features behind the mask. Feeling a little giddy from his accomplishments, Danny couldn’t help but softly chuckle to himself. He finally had you, and he planned on keeping you with him forever.  You were his little mouse after all.  He can’t stand the thought of another being so close to you, it always left a sickening pit in his stomach and made his blood boil seeing strangers talk to you. But what’s adding another victim to his body count? He’s just doing his job in protecting you. 

You don’t need anybody else, just him. 

And now, Danny’s home was going to be your home too! Of course, he took into consideration that you were going to be upset or mad at him for this, and he’d have to tie you down to prevent you from leaving his place. He can’t have you escaping him after all that hard work he pulled off. But in time, he hoped you’d grow to accept your new life with him. Danny could feel his heart palpitating from the overwhelming amount of excitement when he pulled into the garage of his place, turning the engine off and moving around back to carefully pluck you out from the car and carry you on inside. Basking in the familiarity of his home to the few newspaper clippings lying around and placing his trusty camera on the counter as he made his way to his bedroom and gently laid you down, cuffing one of your wrists to the bedpost to restrain you from leaving when you wake up soon. 

Danny loomed over your still unconscious form, his head slowly tilted to the side as he pulled his mask aside with a smile slowly curling on his lips, admiring the peaceful expression written on your features. Oh, how completely oblivious you are right now. He leaned down, pressing a kiss at the crown of your head, turning away to leave you in his room to sleep off the effects of the drug. “Sleep tight, dollface.” Danny mused with a whisper, quietly pulling the door shut behind him. 

He had you in his grasp now, and he'll never let you go. You’re rightfully his, his everything. Nobody else gets to have you now. 

You solely belong to him.

☠︎︎༒︎✞︎🕸𖤐

[anilovie]

Anakin taking care of your sore breasts.

WC: 1.6k

CW: its not rlly smut? Fem reader, mentions of PMSing.

(p.s. I'm slowly working up to posting real smut, im just shy and my speciality is fluff. im getting there.)

“Why’re you so far away?” Anakin propped himself up on his elbow, raising a grumpy brow at the position you had settled down to sleep in. 

You were curled on your side, hands tucked under your cheek, protectively distanced a good 3 feet away from Anakin. Usually you’d be cuddled right up to him, head nestled in the crook of his arm and chest, leg thrown over his waist, half on-top of him. But your boobs were sore – evidence that a certain unpleasant time of the month was approaching – and you didn’t want to cause any pain by pressing against him.

“Sorry,” you murmured sleepily, shifting an inch closer. Anakin’s frown deepened.

“You mad at me or something?” 

“No! Here–” you pushed yourself up, wincing at the ache the shift in gravity caused on your sore breasts, and scooted right up next to him. Still not cuddled quite as close to him as usual, but enough to share body heat. “All better,” you closed your eyes again, smiling slightly.

“You’re acting strange,” he huffed, throwing an arm around you and hauling you over him like usual– only this time, he dragged you all the way up and over so you were fully on top of him, chest pressed against his own.

You winced and pushed your palms against his pecs, taking the pressure off your boobs.

“I’m sore, Ani,” you finally explained, trying to wriggle out of his grasp to lay on your side again.

“Sore?”

“Ya’know…” you avoided his gaze, cheeks going pink. His gaze followed your own, landing on the twin mounds of flesh that threatened to spill out of your little sleep shirt. You’d chosen something soft and airy today, seeing as how every brush against your sensitive nipples caused sharp tingles to shoot through you.

“They hurt?” he questioned curiously, still not allowing you to squirm out of his hold. Suddenly enamored, he lifted his flesh hand to bracket your waist, tracing the curve of your body until his thumb was resting right beneath your aching breast.

“Yes,” you warned, sacrificing a hand to hold his wrist. As if you were strong enough to stop him.

Something clouded over his usually bright eyes, a look you’d become all too familiar with. The pit of your stomach went all warm when his gaze lifted to yours, tiny mischievous smirk twisting his handsome features.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you,” you didn’t believe a word he said with that look on his face. You already knew what you were in for.

“Ani…” you loosened your grip around his wrist, deciding whatever he wanted to do might actually help. Sometimes massaging the flesh made it feel better. “You can touch, but be gentle.”

“I’ll be so gentle,” he spoke quickly, lifting himself so he was sitting. You were propped up on his lap so nicely, obediently quitting your attempts at escaping. With your now pliant and relaxed body in his hands, he rubbed your sides up and down, gauging each little reaction his touch elicited.

Goosebumps all up and down your arms and legs; Head lolling forward in sleepy appreciation of his strong hands; Nipples poking against your shirt all cute and desperate.

“That must not feel very nice, hm?” he brushed the back of a finger of one of your hard nipples, sending a shock of tingles and sensitivity through you. You winced, attention captivated by his every move.

“T’s not the most comfortable, no,” you agreed quietly, an uncomfortable burning sensation resulting from the rub of your nipples against the fabric of your shirt. No matter that it was your softest one… plus, even the act of sitting up with nothing supporting them made them ache. It was worse this month for some reason, and you yearned for Anakin’s hands to just finally hold them, squeeze them, make it feel better like he always does…

“Want me to take it off?”

His hands were already falling to the hem of your shirt, ready to pull it over your head. You nodded once, lifting your arms so he could free you from the confines of your tank top, shivering at the cool breeze that soothed your hot skin.

“There. That better?” he murmured, though his attention was solely on your chest. He hissed through his teeth. “Looks painful, baby. You’re all swollen.”

“Hm?” you looked down at yourself. Usually you did get a little more swollen around this time, but nothing really noticeable. 

“It’s okay. I’ll make it feel better,” his tone dropped to a whisper, completely entranced by you now. His hands slid back up your body, soft skin dipping beneath his touch. He reached the source of your discomfort and slowed his movements, cupping you gently in his palms, supporting the weight of the swollen flesh.

You sighed, relaxing into his hold. Your hands were tucked between your thighs and his waist, cushioned where your bodies met. He squeezed gently, and your eyes fluttered closed, glad you didn’t have to remind him to be gentle.

“That's good, Ani,” you told him, appreciating the slow movements of his hands massaging you. You didn’t even have it in you to be embarrassed– you knew he was enjoying this as much as you.

“Mhm?” he hummed, voice tantalizingly closer to your skin. You could feel his warm breath ghosting over your flesh, a sudden wave of warmth pooling between your legs. Before you could respond, you felt his tongue– hot and wet– soothe over your sensitive nipple.

Your breath caught, instinctively bringing a hand up to rest in the soft curls at the back of his neck. His eyes flicked up quickly to see your reaction, blindingly blue and shiny, then returned to your chest. 

He licked you again, all slow and soft, letting his tongue trace the underside of your nipple and flicking gently against the hard bud. Enamored by your taste, he traced the puffy skin, delicately spreading his saliva all over your nipple before finally closing his lips around it.

You made a small noise, something between a whimper and a cry. It was sore– too sore and sensitive to be doing this. But the pain somehow felt good when met with the hot cavern of his mouth, tongue wet and soothing as it massaged the bud around slowly. 

You weren’t planning on doing anything else tonight, but you were absolutely soaking in your panties. Anakin was never usually this slow and gentle with you, always just a little too mean and a little too impatient– his sudden devotion to your comfort made you ache between your legs, subtly pressing closer to him to appease it. 

If he noticed he didn’t say anything. It was like he was under a spell, releasing your nipple with a small wet sound that made you squirm with embarrassment. He kissed it again, making you flinch, and then moved to the other side.

“‘Coulda asked me for help sooner ya’know,” he murmured against your skin, lips tickling your other nipple. It was so sensitive, even that had you twitching away, but he held you still in his iron hold. “Didn’t have to suffer all alone like this.”

You technically didn’t ask for his help, you wanted to point out. He came onto you. He just liked making fun of how shy you were, because he’s mean like that. 

Before you could say that, you felt something sharp tug at your nipple. You gasped, eyes welling up with tears– not from pain, but from the sharp tingles it sent down your spine. His teeth nibbled the hard peak of your breast so gently, white teeth sharp and sinking into soft, delicate skin. You moaned quietly, hand tightening at the curls by his neck.

“Careful,” he chuckled, thumb brushing and rolling against the hard peak. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

That thumb on your nipple did hurt. The rubbing was too much– as if to prove his point, you squirmed harshly in his hold, fighting the cage he had you trapped in, tugging at his wrist.

“Ani–”

“I know, I know. Shhh,” he leaned forward and replaced his thumb with his mouth, and you sighed again. The warmth and wet slide of his tongue and lips felt heavenly, much different than the rough pad of his finger.

Speaking of, he kept you distracted as he gently suckled on one nipple, sliding his metal hand up to the other one and capturing the hard nub between two metal fingers. He squeezed gently, making you jerk back again, whining keenly. 

“Ani.”

“Sorry,” he laughed again, teeth scraping against the nipple he was currently focused on again. His tone was definitely not sorry.

He remedied his actions though, leaving your nipples alone for a moment to grope and squeeze at your breasts lovingly. He liked it better when you were relaxed in his arms, not squirming and whining in pain. So he squeezed and massaged, entranced by the plush flesh spilling through his fingertips– how soft you were, how delicate your skin was, how pretty your nipples were all sore and sensitive and shining with his spit.

“See? Told you I’d make it all better,” he spoke after a while, allowing you to fall forward into his chest after you grew too tired and sleepy to stay upright anymore. You were still incredibly wet between the legs, but your neediness waned as his touch became therapeutic rather than sensual. 

Finally, his hands roamed from your aching breasts to your back, soothing a line up and down your spine as he retrieved your shirt and nudged it back over your head. 

You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, melting at the warmth of his skin and the ticklish feeling of his curls against your forehead. “Thanks, Ani. Y’did make it feel better. You always do,” you mumbled, half asleep.

“Gonna let me do that more often, then?” he asked, and you smiled at his hopeful tone.

“Sure.”

“Good,” you could hear his own victorious smile in his answer, the light clicking off soon after. “‘Night, baby.”

[darkstarofchaos]

I believe I’ve mentioned this before in a post but by now it’s lost to time, so as another blog who has issues with the Megatron redemption thing being very flat:

I wish Earthspark had taken the same route as Steven Universe’s did on Rose/Pink Diamond but with Megatron, the younger members of cast who have only ever known this ‘good’ version of them get to slowly learn new things and experience his redemption in reverse.

All the older bots they know like Elita and Bee and Optimus all get along so well with Megatron except for minor things, so to them it would likely be hard to imagine it could be THAT bad. Even hearing from other Decepticons how he used to be could’ve been interesting and they half-way opened the door to that possibility with the Starscream arc and then slammed it shut by making Starscream so much worse.

Thinking of it from a kid/teen perspective like the terrans, Starscream described him as cruel and how he rules with fear. Hashtag sort of gets an understanding that Megatron didn’t exactly risk his ass for a soldier who was left behind, and yeah that all sounds pretty (vaguely) cold and cruel, but then Starscream rips the life out of two children right in front of them rather maliciously. They’re probably gonna have Starscream as the worst of the two from their views. Like everything he non-descriptively told them about Megatron is gonna pale in comparison to the trauma he just caused them.

(On a side note, I saw a clip from season 3 where Starscream is sitting trapped in the dome having propped up the chaos Terran’s bodies and that’s not really taken as something horrific? Like they all blatantly ignore Starscream as if he poses no threat and the terrans aren’t even a LITTLE disturbed or angry with him? Theyre all just sighing and rolling their eyes??? Pls PICK A TONE they never seem to portray anyone the same way twice whyyyy.)

Focus on Megatron backstory being revealed to the terrans is always so weird and passive. Like them seeing an earlier version of him in that training simulator wasn’t enough for me. I’m not saying ‘traumatize the kids’ cause that’s mean, but like idk an old war story from an oblivious autobot who hasn’t been in touch with the others! That’s an easy option! There’s so many ways and they didn’t utilize it they just… RGH I’m no good with words sorry it’s just so many wasted opportunities and ill-planned plots.

The thing about the "old war story from an Autobot who hasn't been in touch" option is. They literally had the opportunity to do that in S3. Because they introduced Prowl, who had no idea Megatron changed sides, didn't trust him, and didn't like the Autobots relying on kids. So like. He was literally the perfect character to be uncomfortable with how much the kids trust Megatron and want to talk to them about it. And not only did S3 not do that, it ended with Prowl and Megatron on good terms, so they actually removed the possibility of it coming up later (Prowl also decided relying on kids is fine, actually. Mostly I liked how EarthSpark handled him, but they wasted no time forcing the worst parts of the status quo on him).

I'm not super familiar with Steven Universe (mostly I just watched a few Peridot episodes), so I don't know how they built up the reveal with Rose, but I feel like SU is a perfect example of why Megatron's redemption doesn't work. Rose/Pink Diamond was at the top of her society, and when she changed, so did everything around her. She was one of the most important characters in the story while being dead.

Meanwhile, Megatron is just kind of... There? Sure, you have one-off episodes like Shockwave's and Soundwave's debuts where they were specifically mad at Megatron for betraying them, but his redemption doesn't serve the narrative at all. None of the other Decepticons went with him when he defected, there's no evidence that he tried to end the war through negotiation, none of the Autobots have any lingering mistrust. His defection changed nothing, and if the war had ended because of his death instead, you could tell the exact same story by just modifying a few episodes.

And yeah, you have people who'll say it doesn't matter because the story is about the kids, not the legacy characters, but we're talking about the leader of the Decepticons. You don't just redeem the leader of the enemy faction and handle him the way you would handle a random low-ranking soldier.

Honestly, I don't think anything short of a complete rewrite of his character and his impact on the story would fix his redemption. At very least, you'd need to revert back to S1 Starscream, because making the victim worse than his abuser is the surest way to ruin a redemption for me. Just come right out and say the abuse was justified, why don't you.

(You also have people who'll say there's no evidence that Megatron abused Starscream in EarthSpark. I assume those people just kind of ignore Starscream explicitly saying he's not safe around Megatron).

[womanmanipulator]

goodbye, yellow brick road.

spencer reid x gn!bau!reader.

synopsis: naturally, as a hard-headed and stubborn young adult, you’d chase after the potential unsub when he’s let go due to legality. having your heart set on getting a confession out of him. what could go wrong?

(content warning: graphic, somewhat detailed? major character death, stab wound(s)?, abuse, blood, very angsty. i did some research to write this.)

~

it’s pouring, hands grip the steering wheel tightly. speeding through the rain.

you were stubborn.

hard-headed.

cocky.

it was only natural, being new to the job. only five months in. you weren’t used to work sticking with you and chasing you around, even when you got home. the release of david sallow from the interrogation room earlier today didn’t sit well with you. you knew that sick bastard killed all those young men and women. and you were going to get a confession out of him.

sure, it was unprofessional. but the others wouldn’t even mind when you caught him and got a confession out of that asshole. that’s what you told yourself as you pulled into the gas station his SUV was parked at. you climb out of your car, striding towards where he stood. david was walking out of building when his eyes caught you. he furrows his brows, confused.

“you’re that person from the FBI.” he states. standing a little awkwardly with a smug look playing on his stupid face. you narrow your eyes. “i am.” you say confidently. “and i know you killed those people, david.” you add. getting straight to the point. “i didn’t, and you let me go today. leave me alone.” he says sternly, smirk now vanished. “i will. catch you. it all depends on when.” you glare. if looks could kill..

“admit it.” you press. he starts to get agitated. talking a bold step towards him, you get personal. an intimidation tactic. he isn’t fazed however, you are set on getting a confession though. “i don’t owe you shit, lady.” he hisses. “listen. if you don’t back off, somethin’ bads gonna happen.” he threatens.

“you killed all those men and women because they remind you of your mother and father, mr. wallows.” you say, a quietness fills the air. david’s fists ball up and a grumble comes out of his throat.

“your parents would abuse you. they’d hit you whenever they got the chance. they went so far as to make up things to be mad at you about so they could hit you, eventually they stopped giving reason and just took their frustration out on you. you want to get them back, except you can’t. you killed them, but that didn’t quench your thirst david, oh no it didn’t—“ you start to list off. you are cut off by a yell coming from the man infront of you. he charges at you with a knife.

everything happens so quick. how did you miss him grabbing his knife? you were know for being so attentive and quick thinking —

. . .

pain blossoms in the back of your cranium as you are knocked to the concrete. brain rattled, you’re confused. you try to reach for your gun but you’re stopped by the plunge of the knife in your abdomen. you can’t feel the pain, yet. the adrenaline overpowers it. coursing through your veins as your insides become outsides. a weak attempt to fight back is made, but you can’t do much with a two-hundred pound man above you, stabbing you.

i should have stayed on the farm.

i should have listened to my old man.

a warm liquid trickles out of you as your breath is knocked out of you lungs, another punch of the knife in your weakening body. you try to gasp for air but it’s as if your lungs are useless. you don’t even hear the store owner running out of the building and screaming at david.

he flees from the scene.

you know you can’t hold me forever,

i didn’t sign up with you.

when you gain a grasp on what’s going on, the store owner has sat you up against the brick wall of the building. propping you up. he has pressure on your wound as his phone wails out inaudible sound. they might as well be speaking another language. the pain of a thousand needles pricking you takes over your belly and side. trying to move and get away from the pain, you make an attempt to get up. you are held down though by a familiar face. it takes time to register it.

i’m not a present for your friends to open

blinking a few times to clear your vision, eyes heavy. you are met with spencer. “hey, hey, stay still. please.” he begs desperately. you’ve never heard him sound like this. it worries you. you don’t know when spencer replaced the nice man beside you, but you don’t think too long on it. as you can feel your heart beat in your side and everytime you try to take a deep breath it’s like a punch in the lungs. a sharp, aching pain. you aren’t getting any air. in reality you are, but. your brain can’t register it. more of the thick, scarlet liquid trickles and sprays out of your wound as you try to heave for air. you cant remember the name.

this boys to young to be singin’

the blues.

everything’s so distant and blurry. your body fights for life as pain washes over you in a new form. you want to scream, cry out but you can’t. spencer’s trying to coax you as he holds a crushing pressure on your wound but it’s like talking through a glass window. “you gotta stay awake for me, okay?” he says. tears pouring down his face.

that’s weird, you’d never seen him cry.

“wake up rookie, keep your eyes open.” he tries. speaking firmly. he wants to sound strong but fails. your ears start to ring and you feel as if you’re underwater. slowly, a black ring starts to creep into your vision. you want to close your eyes.

you’re really tired all the sudden, the pains disappeared. as if it was never there. it’s really peaceful. spencer slaps you in the face, knocking you out of your trance as you can hear sirens blaring loudly in the distance. “just a little longer, stay awake for me please, trouble.” he tries, his hands put more pressure on you. you barely register it though. eyes slipping closed again.

slap.

eyes slowly open, vision obstructed. you can barely make out anything as the black rings taken up 90% of your sight. everything sounds far away and echoey. the words he says come in one ear and out the other, rattling and bouncing around in your brain a first.

it’s really tempting to fall asleep.

so goodbye, yellow brick road.

where the dogs of society howl.

spencer knows as soon as you close your eyes you’re gone.

“we got a DOA.”

you can’t plant me in your penthouse,

i’m goin’ back to my plough.

. . .

oh i’ve finally decided my future lies,

beyond the yellow brick road.

~

wowowowoowowow

thsi was written in an hour. might be a little choppy, my first time trying to write smth longer than 400 words 😒.

lmk if ya want more 🎀

mwah mwah mwah