#those hips are too big but at this point I’m too lazy to change it

[em1i2a3]

Boys On The Radio

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a rodeo after party, Rhett witnesses you getting hit on by one of the new hot shot riders and he can’t help but get jealous.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI! Smut, Fluff, Jealous Rhett, Angst, Rhett and Reader are in a Friends with Benefits relationship (but of course there’s feelings there, because why wouldn’t there be?) Rhett is kind of emotionally constipated in this, and he’s possessive :D

Smut Warnings: Unprotected P in V Sex (wrap it up), Fingering, Oral Sex (female receiving), Semi-Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Little bit of begging, A little bit of crying during sex (from overstimulation), Biting, Marking, Scratching, Nipple/Breast Play, Use of ‘Good Girl’ and ‘Good Boy’

Author’s Note: Mmm we like jealous and possessive Rhett. Wanna give that cowboy a sweet lil kiss on the forehead lol. Anyways! Hope y’all enjoy this RAF update <3 (I finished this on my phone because I’m performing with my band tonight and tomorrow, sorry the update is so late!)

Word Count: 13,042

Rhett was enamoured by the baby blue dress you were wearing.

It was soft-looking–silky, almost translucent when the dashboard light hit it just right–and the color reminded him of the sweet summer skies that happened just before the sun started to set. It clung to you like a second skin, hugging the curve of your hips, the dip of your waist, and the swell of your chest. The hem was criminal–dangerously short–flirting with the tops of your thighs every time you shifted in the leather seat, and riding up higher each time you crossed or uncrossed your legs like the fabric had a mind of its own.

The neckline was just low enough to tease. A gentle dip that cradled the round swell of your breasts, offering the kind of view that made his throat tighten and his grip on the steering wheel go white-knuckled. With every bump in the road, they bounced softly under the fabric, unsupported and free, and Rhett swore under his breath more than once as he tried not to stare–and tried not to crash the damn truck.

The dress was sweet and sultry and it rode the sharp edge of trouble and you knew exactly what it did to your favourite cowboy.

You had pulled it from your bag without so much as a warning, your voice lazy and sweet as you said “Think I’ll change before we get there,” like it was no big deal. Like it didn’t mean stripping down in his truck while he was driving the both of you from the circuit to the after-party one of the riders was throwing.

He didn’t stop you, nor did he tell you to wait. He just nodded, eyes darting to the road, pretending he didn’t feel his pulse strike at the plan you had. He’d seen you naked more times than he could count by now. Skin pressed to skin. Your legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth dragging down your stomach until he buried his face between your thighs. You moaning his name into the crook of his neck while you begged for more. That was your arrangement. Friends who knew each other too well. Who couldn’t keep their hands off one another when the sun dipped low and the adrenaline of the day buzzed under their skin.

You had been hooking up for months at this point, and he had watched you get dressed and undressed countless times, in a variety of places. But this–watching you getting undressed in the low flickering light of his truck–was very different.

It started with your shirt–faded and baggy, lifted slowly over your head as you shifted in your seat, the fabric brushing your face before it was tossed in the back. His jaw clenched, and he caught a glimpse of your bare breasts, soft and high, your nipples peaked from the cool of the A/C. Then your jeans were next, unbuttoned and shimmed down those smooth, buttery soft legs of yours, inch by inch. His peripheral vision was lit up with temptation, and he swore he almost veered off the road when you arched your back just enough to tug them down your hips–reminding him of the way you looked when he would bend you over on his bed.

You were left in nothing but lacy black panties–thin, and delicate, the kind with those tiny sheer panels and scalloped edges that left little to the imagination. You didn’t make a show of it, and you didn’t say a word during this, you just grabbed your dress and slipped it over your head like it was part of your routine.

For Rhett though…It was pure torture.

His eyes flicked between the empty road and you in quick, hungry glances–trying to memorize the curve of your bare waist as it disappeared beneath the fabric, the shift of your breasts as you smoothed the dress down over them. You looked down at yourself and adjusted the bodice with your hands, cupping each breast and lifting them slightly to make sure everything sat just right–round and perky and perfect.

Rhett sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth, his eyes returning to the road quickly as you let out a soft giggle.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He muttered under his breath, gripping the steering wheel harder, his dirt stained jeans growing tighter from the show you were putting on for him.

He wanted to drag you across the console and pull you onto his lap, so he could hike the dress up to your waist and shove his hands between your thighs while you leaned back against the steering wheel, panting his name with your eyes fluttering shut. He wanted to kiss his way down your throat and over your collarbone, to leave bruises on that spotless skin–marks you said he couldn’t give you, because that was part of the deal the both of you agreed to. No evidence. No questions. No feelings. Just friendship and sex.

But every inch of him ached to make you his officially, because that’s what you felt like when you were writhing under him, clawing at his back like you needed him to breathe. He wanted you so bad but all he could do was submit to the idea that he would never be able to call you his.

So, he pressed his boot down harder on the gas and stared hard at the road, trying to shake the heat crawling down his spine, trying to ignore the heavy throb between his legs as the image of you adjusting your breasts played on loop behind his eyes.

And then–

Click

His ears prickled at the soft sound of your seatbelt unlatching, his gaze turning just in time to see you shift in your spot again, your dress riding high up your thighs as your hands disappeared beneath the hem. You leaned back against the space between the seat and the door, giving your hips a soft wiggle, biting your bottom lip in concentration as you dragged the black lace down the length of your legs.

He could feel his mouth go dry as he flicked his eyes between the winding road and the slow, sensual movements of your hands. You moved like you knew exactly what you were doing to him. Exactly what kind of pressure it put on a man like Rhett to stay in his lane, keep the truck steady, and not slam on the brakes and pull you right into his lap. You loved the control you had on him, like you were the only person that had access to his metaphorical light switch…

The black lace slipped off your ankles in one fluid motion, your fingers curling around the delicate fabric as you shifted toward him slightly–your bare thigh brushing against the curve of the seat with a whisper-soft sound that made his entire body tense. You balled up the panties, holding them in your fist for a moment, before leaning closer to him with a smile that was far too innocent for the sinful little display you had just put on for him.

And then you shoved the balled up lace right into the front pocket of his jeans. Your fingers grazed his aching length just enough to make his hips jerk subtly against the air, just enough to make him bite down on the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted the coppery flavour of his blood coating his tongue. The smell of your perfume clouded his senses in that moment–the sickeningly sweet caramel and vanilla mist you always sprayed on yourself that drove Rhett crazy.

“I don’t want anyone seeing these through my dress,” You said, voice soft and teasing, saccharine–sweet with a wicked little undertone, “So I hope they’ll be safe with you for the night.” You added, leaning into his space just a little more, your breath grazing over his cheek, as your hand rested on the nape of his neck, just below his sweaty strands of light brown hair that was slicked back beneath his signature Stetson he always wore. Your lips brushed just below his jaw–barely there–and then you pressed a soft, maddening kiss to the sharp edge of stubble that had grown in over the course of the day. It was the kind of kiss that made his breath catch and his knuckles flex over the steering wheel. You didn’t linger. Just a single, grazing touch, enough for your scent to cling to his skin and make his throat tighten.

And then you leaned back like nothing happened, slow and poised, your dress riding up again before you smoothed it down and buckled your seatbelt.

Rhett let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, jaw working tight as he stared out at the road like it was the only thing anchoring him to the earth.

He didn’t dare look at you. Nor did he look down at the very real tent in his jeans where your lace panties now rested close with just a bit of fabric separating them, or at your bare thigh, or the way your lips were slightly parted in the corner of his vision like you were enjoying watching him come undone.

His fingers twitched over the steering wheel–rough, calloused, desperate to hold onto something.

And you must’ve sensed it, must’ve known just how far you’d pushed him, because a moment later, your hand reached across the console again. Gentle. Unbothered. Like you were easing into something familiar.

You curled your fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand off the wheel, guiding it down to your thigh. You placed it there–firmly–your skin cool and smooth beneath his burning palm. The contrast made his breath hitch. His fingers clenched instinctively, digging into the plush flesh like he needed to hold you in place. Like he didn’t trust himself not to go further.

And for a second, neither of you said a word. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the sharp thud of his pulse against his ribs.

His fingers flexed again. This time, slower. More deliberate. Thumb brushing against the inside of your thigh–close enough to make your breath catch, not quite enough to give you what you really wanted.

You glanced sideways at him, lips tugging into that half-smirk he both loved and hated.

Rhett swallowed hard, his voice gravel-rough when he finally spoke. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, Y/N…” Your hand stayed over his, warm and steady. You could feel the way his fingers twitched. The way his palm threatened to slide higher and higher.

“You think I won’t pull over?” He asked, low and deadly soft, his blue eyes finally flicking toward you–dark with heat, with hunger, with a possessiveness he couldn’t even pretend to hide anymore.

You bit your bottom lip, feigning innocence. “Who says we need to pull over, Rhett?”

His jaw locked.

Fuck.

He didn’t say anything for a long moment. Just looked back at the road, his grip tightening on your thigh again–this time with a desperation that made your stomach flutter.

Then he began to drag his hand higher, going straight towards your core, feeling your slick heat brushing against his fingertips. He dragged them along your wetness, letting out a long breath.

”Wow…You want my fingers that bad, hmm? Already soaked for me and I didn’t even have to say anything or touch you.” He teased lowly, his voice coated in the tension that tightened his throat. You let out a soft gasp as he slid a finger through your folds–your hips instinctively rocking into his touch, as you tried to regain your composure a bit. A little smirk came up onto your lips.

”Can’t control it…You were eyeing me down with those hazy blue irises of yours while I was changing…” He let out a shaky breath, barely holding back the growl that trembled in his chest. His fingers stroked you again, this time deliberately slow, dragging through your folds like he was savoring the feel of you. The truck jolted slightly with a bump in the road, but he didn’t even flinch.

“You’re so desperate for me you can’t wait till tonight, huh?” He muttered, his thumb grazing your clit just enough to make you bite your lip hard.

”It’s to take the edge off,” You replied, trying to stay serious even though your voice was a little breathless “You know how I get at parties.” He scoffed, shaking his head with a humorless little huff.

“What a poor excuse,” He commented, the pad of his finger sliding down and circling your entrance like a threat, “Just admit you like it when I fuck you with my fingers.” Your teeth grazed your bottom lip again, this time to hide the way your mouth wanted to drop open at the heat in his voice.

“I can’t give you that satisfaction,” You teased, blinking slowly at him. “Would be too easy.” A low hum rumbled in his chest as he slowly pulled his hand away, dragging his wet fingers along the inside of your thigh as he retreated. You bit back a noise of protest, legs twitching.

“Suit yourself then,” He murmured, smirking just enough for it to sting. “We’re almost there anyways…Wouldn’t be the best idea to get you all riled up. The boys there won’t stand a chance.” You huffed at him, crossing your arms and shifting your thigh away.

”You don’t even stand a chance most of the time. Look at yourself right now…You got hard just by watching me change.” He let out a little groan, tightening his hand on the steering wheel.

”Yeah, ‘cause you were teasin’ me,” He said, glancing over at you with that dangerously boyish look–the kind that made your stomach flip, “If you were changin’ like a normal person, I wouldn’t be hard. I’ve been able to manage myself perfectly fine before, y’know.” He added squeezing your thigh and tracing circles along your skin. You rolled your eyes, swiping his hand off, grinning when his brows pulled together in a faux pout.

”Don’t look at me like that, Cowboy. You said it yourself, it’s best not to get me riled up, so quit touching me.”

”Hey!” He barked in mock offense, reaching back out to you like a petulant child denied his favourite toy. But you leaned back, out of reach pressing yourself up against the door, raising your chin in triumph.

”I mean it, Rhett.” His eyes narrowed, lips twitching. Then, quicker than you expected, he darted his hand under your thigh, fingers curling around the sensitive skin there.

“Don’t you dare–!” You gasped, but it was too late.

He tickled the back of your thigh mercilessly, fingers teasing and dancing just under the hem of your dress. A surprised laugh burst from your mouth and you squirmed in your seat, kicking lightly toward the console and batting his arm away, as he continued to pay attention to the road.

”Rhett, I swear to god…” You warned.

”You started it,” He grinned, a little crooked and full of smugness. “Now look at you, all flustered.” Rhett kept tickling, and you kept laughing–loud and breathless, legs twitching and thighs squeezing around his wrist in a poor attempt to block him. The sexual tension dissolved into something warmer, lighter. That was what you liked about this strange little arrangement you had with him. It wasn’t always intense and feral and soaked in sweat and lust. Sometimes it was just this–easy and teasing and sharp with laughter. You could push each other to the brink and still pull back before things boiled over into an all out sexual detour.

You both had your switches. And right now, they were finally flicked off. Back to ‘friend mode’ as you liked to say.

Your giggles softened as he finally retreated, pulling his hand away with a dramatic little sigh like you had exhausted him.

“Alirght,” Rhett said, voice low but tinged with surrender, “Fix yourself before we pull into the driveway…Don’t want to raise any suspicions.” He added jokingly. You nodded, breathless, grinning as you smoothed your dress down your thighs and wiped the sweat off your brow.

“Better do the same for yourself, Cowboy,” You shot back, letting your eyes flick pointedly toward the front of his jeans, “And don’t lose those underwear either…” You said, leaning closer with a wicked glint in your eye, “…They’re my favourite pair.” He let out a little laugh.

”Yeah?” He asked, his eyebrow raising slightly, “Well…I guess I’ll have to guard ‘em with my life then.”

As he turned onto the long gravel driveway that led toward the back of the property, the warm glow of the party came into view. There were strings of soft yellow lights looped around the fencing posts, swaying slightly in the night breeze. A bonfire crackled near the edge of the clearing, its flames dancing tall and orange, casting long flickering shadows across the packed crowd.

The yard was full of people scattered everywhere in their own clusters–some you recognized from the circuits, others not so much. There was laughter and the twinge of guitar strings that filled the air, and the hum of an old speaker playing a generic Spotify playlist that buzzed from a nearby table. Someone had thrown hay bales around the fire for makeshift seating, and a couple of folks were already posted up there with beers in hand. There were coolers open, boots scuffed and stomping on dirt as people clinked bottles and howled at tonight’s events.

The scent of burning wood mixed with cheap beer and the lingering musk of sweat and leather. You could see familiar faces and fresh ones–locals and new riders who had joined the circuit recently. A few guys leaned against the fence near the area, sipping from Solo cups and scanning the crowd like they were looking for a girl to charm.

Rhett’s hands tightened on the wheel as he drove past them, jaw ticking slightly, almost like he was trying to intimidate them with just a look, even though they weren’t paying attention to him at all.

He pulled the truck in beside a cluster of other dusty pickups and killed the engine. The headlights dimmer, but the glow of the bonfire still reached the windshield, casting shadows across both of your faces. He let out a small sigh, before bringing his hand down to his belt, unbuckling it. The clink of the metal echoed softly in the cab, followed by the low pop of his jeans being unbuttoned. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband, adjusting his aching erection with the kind of casual, almost lazy precision that made you stare without even meaning to. His hat tipped forward as he shifted, casting the shadow of his jawline in a sharp slant of darkness. You watched him in silence, the motion oddly hypnotic–half out of amusement, half out of admiration.

There was no hesitation, no apology. Just Rhett being Rhett–shameless and rugged and impossibly attractive even when he was just fixing his hard-on before stepping into a party.

He pulled his hand out and buttoned his jeans back up, cinching his belt tight around his waist. His white tee had creased slightly, so he tugged it flat before adjusting the green flannel he wore open over it. He ran his fingers through the strands of light brown hair that had fallen loose under the brim of his hat, then looked over at you with a quick nod.

“Ready?” You tilted your head slightly, smiling as you reached for your seatbelt.

”Ready as I’ll ever be.” You popped the lock and opened your door, the creak of the hinges blending into the distant laughter and music drifting from the party. The warm scent of burning wood and crushed grass spilled into the cab.

But before your boots even hit the dirt, Rhett’s voice cut through the dark.

“Hey–“ He said, voice low but firm, grabbing your attention once more, with your brow raised. He was still seated, one hand on the wheel, the other braced on the driver-side door that he was going to open in a moment, “Let’s keep the drinkin’ down to a minimum tonight, alright? I had to sleep with you on your bathroom floor the last time you drank to make sure you didn’t choke on your own vomit, and I don’t want to wake up with that ungodly back ache again.” You rolled your eyes dramatically, giving a small huff of a laugh.

”And here I thought you enjoyed taking care of me,” You teased, flashing him a toothy grin, “Guess I’ll have to find a replacement for you.” His jaw ticked slightly at your comment.

A replacement.

The word hit harder than he wanted it to, latching into the back of his mind like a burr caught in denim. It wasn’t just the idea of someone else taking care of you–it was the thought of someone else touching you, kissing you, hearing those soft little moans you made when you were tipsy and clingy. Someone else holding you against their chest while you whispered half-drunken secrets into their skin the way you had with him that night on your bathroom floor.

He felt it coil in his stomach, tight and sharp. Bile rose to the back of his throat, hot and bitter, but he swallowed it down hard. This was supposed to be casual. Fun. No strings.

But fuck if it didn’t feel like you’d wrapped one around his neck and started tugging.

He shook his head, trying to keep the playful tone in his voice, but it cracked just a little.

“You just try,” He shot back, looking over at you with a lopsided grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “They’ll never be as good at handlin’ you as me though…” You leaned against the door, lips curling, biting the inside of your cheek like you were holding back a smirk.

“Hm. Maybe.” You let the silence stretch for a second, then flicked your chin toward the party, “Now are you coming out or not? You’re sitting there doing nothing when we could’ve been drinking by now.” He sighed, long and dramatic, and opened his door, the creak blending with the distant sounds of boots against dirt and laughter in the distance. You had already slammed your door shut by the time he did the same, and the two of you rounded the truck to meet near the bed.

There was no touch, no whisper, no lingering gaze–just a casual pace as you began walking together toward the crowd. You kept a bit of distance between you, a few feet of air that felt wider than it should’ve, your steps matching only out of habit. It was strange–how quickly the air between you could shift. How quickly he could go from knuckles white with desire to walking beside you like you were just a friend. Not the girl who just slipped her panties into his pocket with a look that could undo a lesser man.

You split at the edge of the crowd–your path drifting toward a row of coolers stacked with bottles and ice, while Rhett moved toward the knot of bull riders gathered around a battered wooden table playing poker with ripped cards and spare change.

He nodded to a few familiar faces–Leon, Ben, Caleb–and they clapped him on the back, tossed him a bottle of beer, started talking about the night’s rides and the new hot shot rider who had joined from out east.

But Rhett didn’t hear much of it.

Because the moment his eyes slid across the firelight haze and landed on you–standing by the cooler, laughing at something one of your friends had said, your baby blue dress lit up in gold like a flame–he saw someone else walking toward you. And his jaw clenched so tight he thought his teeth might crack.

He didn’t recognize the guy. Tall, sharp jaw, clean-cut. New. He had to be one of the transfer riders everyone was talking about–the ones who were looking to make a name for themselves. His blonde hair was tied back, and he had a red solo cup in one hand while the other was tucked into his back pocket like he was trying to look effortless. Like he wasn’t actively locking in on the prettiest girl at the party…

You smiled–soft, pretty, that same one you used when you were being polite but curious. Rhett knew it too well. You opened up your can of beer, and said something he couldn’t hear over the music and chatter, but the guy laughed. A real, deep-belly laugh. Leaning in closer to you. Rhett could see your bottom lip slip between your teeth, and his jaw ticked so hard it ached. You were leaning in closer now, just slightly, enough that your shoulder grazed the new guy’s chest as he dipped his head to speak low into your ear. You shifted on your heels, angling your body toward him, and nodded at whatever he said. Then–Rhett saw it–you smiled.

That same damn smile you gave him when he dragged you into his bed, breathless and laughing, calling him trouble like it was a compliment.

And then you glanced toward him.

Just a flicker of your eyes over the bonfire and through the crowd. Just long enough for your gaze to catch his from across the distance. Just long enough for Rhett to feel it like a goddamn punch in the chest. Your eyes were bright in the firelight, a little glassy from the beer, and your lips were still curved in that gentle, unreadable expression. You brought your can to your lips, took a slow sip, then turned back to the blonde rider.

“Abbott, are you even listening?” Ben asked beside him, cutting through the blood pounding in his ears. Rhett blinked and turned, catching the impatient look from Ben and the amused ones from Leon and Caleb.

“Huh? Sorry, I was–”

“Watching your girlfriend?” Leon quipped, voice sharp with teasing. Rhett scoffed, but the heat rushed up the back of his neck. His ears burned under his hat.

“No. Just curious who the new guy is.” Caleb chuckled around a swig of his beer, nodding in the direction of the blonde man now brushing his fingers along your arm like he had the right to.

“Name’s Tommy. Came up from Arizona, I think. Pretty sweet kid. Definitely a Casanova though. I mean, look at him go.” Rhett’s eyes zeroed in on the way Tommy’s fingers drifted down your bicep–slow, careful, practiced. He watched the way you tilted your head as you spoke, your mouth moving in soft curves, and your body swaying slightly. And when Tommy laughed again, Rhett nearly snapped his beer bottle in half. He tried to laugh it off, and tried to remind himself that you weren’t his, and that it was his own damn fault for never saying what he really felt. But it didn’t stop the bitter heat from crawling up his chest or the cold, sharp ache from gnawing at his gut.

“I think Rhett’s gettin’ a little green-eyed over here.” Ben commented. The guys around him laughed, all of them too buzzed or too blind to realize that it wasn’t just jealousy in Rhett’s eyes–it was heartbreak, frustration, and the kind of possessiveness that made him want to walk over, grab your wrist, and pull you away from every other set of eyes like a damn caveman. He forced a dry smirk and shook his head.

”Ain’t nothin’ to be jealous of,” He muttered, even though his eyes were glued to the scene across the clearing. His chest burned. His skin itched. And the worst part? You weren’t doing anything wrong. You weren’t grinding on Tommy or laughing too loud or flirting too hard. No–you were doing that thing you always did when someone was being overly charming. You gave them just enough to be polite, enough to be kind, and then you’d find a way to let them down easy.

And Rhett saw it happen right in front of him.

You laid your hand on Tommy’s stomach–a soft, gentle push–and shook your head. He laughed, nodded, and stepped back. You didn’t look uncomfortable. You didn’t look annoyed. Just…Graceful. In control. Even when Tommy reached into the cooler beside you, cracked another beer, and tapped it against your can with a smile, you just offered a nod, nothing more. No flirting, no promises. Just a clean close.

You turned slightly after that, drawing your attention back to the friend you were speaking to moments before Tommy had interrupted, your laughter hitting his ears once more. Rhett felt his shoulders drop, just slightly. That tight, choking knot in his chest loosened–not gone, not even close, but…Less.

Caleb shook his head with a low grin, and muttered, “Another one shot down.”

Ben let out a snort and added, “It’s alright, he seems like a persistent kid. Bet he’ll come back around for round two once the beer really kicks in.”

Leon groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “God, I hope not. Rhett might blow an artery and die on the spot if he has to see somethin’ like that again.”

“Fuck off,” Rhett muttered, raising his bottle to his lips, taking a long pull like it might wash the jealousy off his tongue.

But they weren’t wrong.

He had felt his blood pressure spike just watching Tommy’s hand drift along your arm. He had felt every cell in his body scream when your lips curved into that soft smile, even if it wasn’t real. It didn’t matter that you turned the guy down. What mattered was that someone else thought they had a shot with you in the first place. That someone else got to see you smile like that. Stand close like that.

That someone else might end up with the version of you Rhett saw in the quiet hours between dusk and dawn, bare and laughing in his sheets, drunk off moonlight and whispered jokes.

“You know you got it bad, right?” Caleb said, voice lower now, gentler. His shoulder bumped into Rhett’s. He didn’t answer right away. Just stared at the fire as it crackled and spit glowing embers into the dark. He took another swig of beer, but it didn’t do shit to calm him down.

“I don’t got anything,” He mumbled eventually, eyes flicking over to where you stood, head tilted back in laughter, can of beer pressed to your mouth. “That’s kinda the problem.”

————————

You had managed to only have two and a half beers, which was perfect–just enough for a light buzz that settled beneath your skin like warm honey, but not enough to tip you into the realm of sloppy or sentimental. You had paced yourself on purpose. You wanted to be sharp and to be in control. Wanted to remember every second of the way Rhett had looked at you across the firelight–because he had been watching, even if he pretended not to.

But he hadn’t said much. Barely looked at you. And that quiet space between you, the one that used to be filled with inside jokes and long stares, felt impossibly loud tonight.

So when the clock hit 2:00 A.M. and the fire had burned down to soft orange embers, you wandered back over to where he was leaned against the tailgate, beer hanging loose in his hand, and asked, “Ready to go?”

His jaw flexed. Just once. But he nodded, tipping his bottle back to finish the last of it before setting it on the bumper. He turned to his friends, muttered a few goodbyes, and you followed suit, offering a small wave and smile before the two of you drifted away from the warmth and noise of the party.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The kind of quiet that had weight to it. Like it stretched between your shoulders and settled into your spine. You could smell the faint smoke from the fire in your hair, feel the grit of dirt clinging to your calves, and hear the soft crunch of gravel beneath your boots.

Rhett didn’t say a word. Not even a joke. Not even a “nice night” or “you have fun?”

And you didn’t push.

Because you knew him.

Knew that little wrinkle between his brows, the way his jaw worked when he was stewing on something. Knew that his silence didn’t mean he had nothing to say. It meant he had too much–and he hadn’t figured out how to say any of it without it coming out wrong.

You stepped into the cab of the truck, the door creaking as it closed behind you with a dull thunk. The cab smelled faintly of pine from the air freshener hanging limp from the rearview, smoke from the bonfire clinging to both your clothes and your skin, and a trace of vanilla and sweat–the same notes that had been driving Rhett half-wild all night.

He got in beside you with a grunt, the seat bouncing slightly under his weight. He sighed as he reached up and pulled off his hat, setting it carefully between the two of you on the bench seat. His fingers raked back through his sweat-dampened hair, jaw working a little as he pulled the keys from his pocket–not the one where your panties still sat like a taunt against his thigh–and jammed them into the ignition.

The truck grumbled to life. The headlights lit up the dust ahead in a soft, yellow wash, bouncing faintly as he backed out of the makeshift parking space, tires crunching softly over the gravel.

You glanced at him, voice a little too casual when you said, “That was fun, eh?”

He didn’t look over. Just nodded once and gave a clipped, noncommittal, “Yep.”

You swallowed. The tension sat heavy again, coiled in the air like a storm cloud. It hadn’t dissipated. Hadn’t cracked or rolled away with the party noise. It had only thickened with the silence. He pulled the truck onto the gravel driveway, the wheels slipping slightly before catching hold again. The hum of the engine filled the cab.

You shifted in your seat, angling toward him a bit. “We still going back to my place?”

His hand was resting on the shifter, but his thumb started rubbing the worn leather there. He exhaled through his nose, rubbed his bottom lip with the side of his finger, then he finally said, “Yeah. If you want.”

You tilted your head, voice a little softer now. “Course I do.”

His jaw clenched again, just for a second. And then he nodded–barely perceptible–but said nothing more. You stared at him for a moment longer. The shadows of the cab played across his features, cutting sharp along his cheekbones, highlighting the edge of his throat, the curve of his bicep where the flannel had slid back. He looked like he’d been holding his breath for hours.

You reached over slowly, let your fingers drift across the crown of his hat where it sat between you, almost like a buffer. He didn’t flinch. But he didn’t look at you either. Your eyes lingered on him for a second longer before you leaned back against the seat, sighing as you turned to look out the passenger window. The stars blurred by the dirty glass, and your reflection–barely visible–looked as tired and tense as you felt.

“What’s going on with you?” You asked, voice soft but firm. “Looks like you’ve got something to say.”

His hands tightened on the wheel.

There was a beat of silence. Then another.

He swallowed hard.

Shook his head, some of that sweat-dampened hair falling down across his forehead. He pushed it back with one hand, slow and distracted, before settling it back on the wheel.

“Got nothin’ to say,” He mumbled, barely above the growl of the engine. “Just…Focusin’ on the road.”

You didn’t reply right away.

Just stared at the passing fenceposts and the long stretch of gravel unfolding ahead like it might lead anywhere but where you actually were—tense, aching, held in that maddening limbo between what you both felt and what neither of you would admit.

You felt your jaw tick, the muscles twitching beneath your skin. And then you said, quieter this time, but not without edge–

“Alright then…Don’t say I didn’t ask you.”

The silence that followed was colder than before.

He felt it, too. You knew he did.

Because his hands flexed on the steering wheel again. Because his boot tapped a little heavier against the floor mat. Because he glanced at you, just once, from the corner of his eye–like he wanted to say something and couldn’t.

Like he didn’t know how to turn the damn wheel back around before it drove the two of you straight into regret.

You didn’t press again. You just let the silence stretch. Let it hang thick between you like dust in the headlight beams, visible and inescapable.

The rest of the drive was exactly that–silent and taut, like a rope pulled so tight it might snap with the wrong word. Every gravel crunch beneath the tires felt louder than it should’ve. The occasional blink of a streetlight through the window cast fleeting glimmers across the dashboard, catching on the curve of Rhett’s jaw, the stiff set of his mouth, the muscle that kept ticking in his cheek like a second hand on a clock. You didn’t speak. You didn’t look at him again.

When the truck finally rolled to a stop in front of your little bungalow, the tension followed you out of the cab like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

The automatic porch lights clicked on, bathing the small, tidy front of your house in a warm, soft glow. The bungalow sat nestled in a quiet corner of town–half-hidden behind a row of overgrown hedges and a lean wooden fence that had seen better days. The porch was small but homey, with two mismatched rocking chairs on either side of a crate-turned-side-table, an old horseshoe nailed to one of the beams for luck, and a wind chime hanging from the overhang that tinkled softly in the breeze.

You moved toward the door, your boots crunching over the walkway gravel, Rhett a few steps behind you. Distant. Careful. Like he wasn’t sure whether he was walking into a place he was still welcome.

You reached into your bag and pulled out your keys, sliding them into the lock with muscle memory born of long nights and routine. The door gave with a quiet creak, and the familiar warmth of your home spilled out to greet you.

Rhett stepped inside behind you, silent, his presence large but hesitant–like he didn’t know where to put himself anymore.

Your bungalow smelled like cedar and lavender. There was the faintest hint of vanilla from a candle you had blown out before leaving the house. You dropped your bag on the bench beside the door and tossed your keys onto the small side table with a muted clatter. The soft thud of Rhett’s boots followed behind, but he still didn’t speak.

Your home was lived-in and soft around the edges.

To the left, the living room spread out in gentle warmth–faded rugs layered over hardwood floors, a worn brown leather couch piled with mismatched pillows, and a crocheted blanket your aunt had made draped over the back. A few books were stacked on the coffee table alongside an ashtray with a few stubbed-out cigarettes and a mostly empty glass of wine from the night before. The walls were lined with photos–some framed, others thumbtacked crookedly into place. You and your grandma. You and your dog that passed two summers ago. You with your arm slung over Rhett’s shoulder, laughing at something off-camera–back when things were simpler. When everything still felt like a joke waiting to be told.

To the right, the kitchen hummed in stillness. The light above the stove buzzed faintly, casting golden warmth over the counter lined with half-used groceries. A pot still sat on the stove, crusted over with the remnants of mac and cheese you hadn’t had time to clean. The table in the corner was cluttered with unopened mail, coasters, and a few empty LaCroix cans. A pair of boots sat tucked beneath one of the chairs–his, from a different night. Forgotten or left behind on purpose. You weren’t sure anymore.

Down the short hallway, the glow from your bedroom light bled beneath the crack in the door, casting a faint line across the floor. Familiar. Intimate. Inviting in a way that made your chest ache.

”Want some water?” You asked, voice light but already edging into something firmer, something that carried weight, as you kicked off your boots with a soft thump and padded across the floor.

The bottom of your dress swayed with every step you took toward the kitchen, catching the soft breeze from the open window and trailing like smoke behind you. Rhett lingered in the entryway, unmoving at first, like the warmth of your house unsettled him.

He finally replied, “No, I’m okay,” And followed you closely.

You didn’t turn. Just opened the fridge and grabbed a chilled bottle of water. The cap gave a quiet pop as you twisted it free, and you tilted your head back to drink. Cool water slid down your throat and your eyes fluttered shut for just a second, like you were trying to find some calm.

When you pulled the bottle away, your lips were damp, and you ran your tongue slowly over the bottom one–wiping the moisture, but also giving him something to look at. Something he should’ve reacted to.

But Rhett didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

And that pissed you off more than it should’ve.

You turned, planting the bottle on the counter with a dull clack and crossing your arms tight over your chest, the swell of your breasts pressing slightly against the neckline of that damned dress that had started this whole mess.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you now that you’ve had the drive to think about it?” Your voice was sharper now. Tired. Tense. “Because you’ve been stewing all night. And you haven’t said much to me since the party.” Rhett’s jaw ticked. His arms stayed at his sides, fingers twitching once.

“I already told you,” He muttered, “Nothin’ is goin’ on.” You let out a short breath–more of a scoff–and pushed off the counter with your hip, stepping closer.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. I’ve never seen you act like this before, Rhett. So cut the crap and spill it.” His eyes flicked to yours then, and there it was: the storm behind them. Blue and burning and barely held back. You could see the way his throat bobbed with a hard swallow, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides like he needed to hold himself together.

”You flirted with that blonde pretty boy, and you acted like I didn’t exist all night until you wanted to leave.” Your eyebrows shot up. You blinked at him in stunned disbelief, then let out a dry, humorless laugh as you stepped forward even more now, the hem of your dress swishing around your thighs.

“So that’s what this whole thing is about?” You asked, your voice sharp enough to slice clean through the thick tension. “You being jealous of the fact that a guy came up to me and flirted–and I outright rejected him?” Rhett said nothing. His jaw flexed again, like he was grinding his molars to dust.

You didn’t stop.

”Also, newsflash, I was looking at you almost all fucking night. You were the one who wouldn’t look at me. Wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t even acknowledge me. So let’s not go there.” His nostrils flared, but he still didn’t speak, still didn’t defend himself. Just stood there with his fists clenched and that haunted, infuriating look in his eyes. You threw your hands up, pacing a short step away and then turning back to him.

“Get your head on straight, Rhett. You’re mad because someone else saw me for a second. Because someone else had the nerve to walk over and try his luck while you stood across the yard pretending I didn’t mean a damn thing to you.” He looked away then. Eyes cut to the side. Shoulders rigid. You saw the twitch in his jaw before he finally snapped back, voice low and tight. “He touched you.”

“So?” You asked, “You touch me all the time, and I’m not yours. Or did you forget that?” That landed like a slap. You saw it. Felt it. He inhaled sharply through his nose, chest rising hard beneath his shirt. For a second, you thought maybe he’d storm out. Maybe he’d throw your words back in your face. But he didn’t. He stepped closer, shortening the gap between you. His voice dropped, quiet but harsh–like gravel soaked in honey.

”You think I don’t want you to be mine?” You held your ground, heart pounding, your arms crossed tighter now.

“I think,” You said evenly, “You want me when it’s convenient. When it’s easy. When no one else is looking.” His chest brushed against yours now. You had to tilt your chin up slightly to hold his stare. Rhett shook his head slowly, his chest heaving with a silent breath as he stared down at you. His eyes were burning now–blue flame under tension, desperate and raw.

“You know that’s not true,” He replied, voice low and tight, like it cost him to say it. “Deep down inside we both know it too.” You squinted up at him, your arms still crossed over your chest, your heart slamming hard against your ribs.

“Oh really?” You shot back, voice cracking under the weight of all the things you hadn’t said for months. “Then why haven’t you broken the rules you made for this arrangement, Rhett? Why haven’t you taken the steps to show me you actually want me to be your fucking girl then, huh?” He flinched. Not visibly, not with a jerk or a recoil–but something in his face crumpled, just for a moment. A quiet devastation in the furrow of his brow. In the flicker of regret that passed behind his eyes.

Then–quietly, so quietly you barely caught it–

“Because you’ve never told me that’s what you wanted.”

Your jaw went slack.

For a second, you didn’t speak. Just blinked at him, mouth parting like the air had been punched out of you.

“You’re joking,” You said, voice low, stunned. “You have to be fucking joking.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

And that made you angrier than anything else.

You let out a soft, disbelieving laugh, your tongue pressed to the inside of your cheek as your eyes shimmered–not from sadness, not yet, but from something hotter. More volatile.

“I’ve given you signs,” You started, voice shaking now, “Plenty of them, Rhett. Don’t you dare stand in my kitchen and pretend like I haven’t. I’ve been dropping hints for months. I’ve stayed the night even when we said we wouldn’t. I’ve taken care of you when you’ve been beat to hell. I call you when shit goes wrong. I let you hold me when I’m upset, I’ve worn your shirts, I’ve kissed your goddamn forehead like a girlfriend would. And you–” your voice cracked, “You’ve never said a thing.” He stepped forward again, closer, until you were pushed back against the counter and the space between you was nothing but heat and history and every unsaid word that had been boiling over for months.

“I didn’t say anything,” He rasped, “Because I thought if I did, you’d pull away. Because I thought if I asked for more, you’d walk. Because this–this little thing we had–it was the closest to happy I’ve been in a long fuckin’ time, and I didn’t wanna lose it by pushing you into something, or guilting you into it.” His voice broke at the end, soft and strangled. Your throat went tight, and your eyes shimmered.

“I’ve been in love with you for months,” You said, quietly, like it was a sin. “And you’ve been pretending like I’m just another girl you get to hold until you’re bored. You don’t get to do that anymore, Rhett. You don’t get to tell me you’re scared to lose me if you’ve never even tried to have me.” His blue eyes softened. The kind of soft that came right before something broke open. And when he looked at you now, it wasn’t guarded. It wasn’t tense. It wasn’t cloaked in jealousy or bruised pride.

It was wide open.

“I ain’t bored…” He stated, his voice quiet–raw enough to scrape. “I ain’t ever been bored of you.” His hand came up slowly–carefully–as though he thought you might flinch. But you didn’t. You held still, breath caught in your throat as his calloused fingers brushed the side of your face, settling at your neck. His palm cradled the space just under your jaw, rough thumb stroking along the edge like he was trying to memorize the feel of you.

“You drive me goddamn crazy. You’re the only person who’s ever known how to pull me apart and make me feel like I can breathe at the same time.”

Your lips parted, trembling slightly, but you said nothing. Couldn’t.

“And you’ve destroyed me…” He went on, quieter now, like a confession. “In all the best fuckin’ ways.” His thumb slid over your bottom lip, a breath trembling out of his chest.

“I’ve been in love with you since the day we met,” He said, finally, finally breaking open. “And I’ve wasted time tryin’ to convince myself otherwise–doin’ stupid shit like this. These arrangements. This ‘no strings’ bullshit. Tryin’ to get the love I wanted from you without admitting my true feelin’s…Just so I could keep you close.”

You stared up at him, throat aching, eyes shining.

“I didn’t think you’d ever want someone like me in that way,” He murmured, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You idiot,” You whispered, voice breaking, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the flannel like you needed something to hold you upright. “You fucking idiot.” He let out a quiet, shaky laugh against your skin.

“I know,” He breathed. “I know.” Your eyes fluttered shut, your nose brushing his. He was so close, close in a way that had nothing to do with sex, nothing to do with desperation or adrenaline or fleeting release. He was just there. Honest and broken and entirely yours.

Your breath caught as you leaned forward and pressed your mouth to his–hard, aching, desperate.

Rhett groaned into the kiss, like he’d been starved for it. Like he’d been holding this in for far too long. His lips slanted against yours with a hunger that stole the air from your lungs. One of your hands fisted in the fabric of his flannel, yanking him impossibly closer, while the other curled against the back of his neck, holding him in place like you’d never let him go again.

He pushed you back a little more, enough that your hips bumped into the edge of the counter. Then, without a single word, he gripped the backs of your thighs and lifted you–effortless and firm. You gasped against his mouth, hands tightening in his shirt, as he placed you on the counter with a solid thud. The cool surface kissed the back of your thighs, and your legs instinctively parted, cradling him between them.

Now you had to tilt your head down slightly to keep kissing him, your fingers already in his hair, dragging through the sweaty strands at the base of his skull. You tugged gently, just enough to make him groan again–a low, ragged sound that rumbled through his chest and vibrated between your lips. He kissed like a man drowning. Like he was finally giving in to everything he’d tried to hold back for months. Like he was terrified this might be the last time.

When he pulled back, both of you were breathless. Your lips were kiss-bitten and tingling, your lungs burning with the need to breathe. His chest rose and fell hard, his eyes blown wide with heat. Rhett let out a low, breathless sigh and shook his head, like he couldn’t believe himself. His voice dropped to a gravel-rich growl as his hand slid slow and possessive up your thigh.

“I’m gonna ruin you right here on this fuckin’ counter…” He muttered, fingers tightening on your skin, “and then I’m gonna take you to your room and ruin you there all over again.”

Your breath hitched at his words–at the promise in them, at the heat rolling off him in waves. You leaned forward, kissed him softly–briefly–and whispered against his mouth, “Then what are you waiting for, Cowboy?” He dipped his head to your neck, kissing hot and wet along the sensitive skin. He didn’t start soft. No teasing. No buildup. Just hungry, open-mouthed kisses that dragged up the column of your throat–nipping and biting, tongue licking over the marks he left. You gasped, hands clutching the flannel on his back, arching toward him as his teeth scraped your pulse point and made your breath stutter. His hands came up, calloused fingers tugging at the thin straps of your dress. You let them slip from your shoulders, the silky fabric pooling just enough to reveal your chest to the cool air–and to him. Rhett sucked in a shaky breath and let out a low, reverent groan like he was witnessing something sacred.

“Fuckin’ love seeing these, I couldn’t stop starin’ at them when we were driving to the party.” He dipped his head, mouth latching onto one nipple like he couldn’t hold back a second longer. He sucked hard–hungry, messy–his tongue flicking and swirling over the sensitive peak. You gasped his name, fingers flying into his hair, scratching hard at his scalp as you arched into his mouth.

“Rhett…Fuck–” He grunted against your skin, switching to the other breast, sucking even harder this time, like he was claiming you with his mouth. His hands were everywhere–one gripping your thigh tight, the other cradling your back as he devoured you. Your skin prickled with heat, your body trembling beneath his.

“Your skin always tastes so good,” He growled, voice muffled as he dragged his tongue across your chest. Your nails scraped down his back as your head fell back against the cupboard, thighs clenching around his hips. You were already soaked, throbbing, breathless–and he hadn’t even touched you where you needed him most.

He pulled back, lips wet, chest heaving. His eyes were wild, blue and burning, locked on you like you were the only thing in the world.

“You’re mine,” He muttered, pressing a kiss between your breasts. “All mine.” His hands gripped your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh as he pushed your dress up–slow, reverent, but with purpose–until the hem bunched around your hips, exposing everything he’d been aching for all night. You felt the cool air kiss your bare heat, the contrast making you shiver, thighs twitching where they bracketed his ribs. The room was quiet except for your shallow breathing and the faint hum of the fridge behind you, but everything else faded into static when he dropped to his knees in front of the counter.

And then he looked up at you.

Face level with your soaked, puffy core, his breath ghosted over your sensitive skin–and those eyes, god, those impossibly blue eyes, they shimmered in the golden kitchen light. They caught on your skin like firelight on silk, glowing with a kind of adoration that made your breath catch.

You reached for him instinctively, cradling his face in both hands, your thumbs brushing along the stubble that scratched at your palms. He closed his eyes at the contact, leaning into it, and then turned his head just enough to kiss your palm–slow, soft, like he was savoring the taste of you on the pads of his lips. He didn’t pull away, not immediately. Instead, he trailed a kiss from your hand to the inside of your thigh, then another, then another–closer, wetter, hungrier.

“Been waitin’ to taste you all fuckin’ night,” He whispered against your skin, his voice thick and gravelly, filled with something feral and sweet. His hands tightened around your thighs, spreading them wider, his shoulders pushing between them until there was no room for anything but him. You gasped, your head falling back slightly as you balanced yourself on the edge of the counter, thighs parted, body trembling.

“Please,” You begged, voice cracking under the weight of want. “Rhett, please–”

He didn’t make you beg again.

He leaned in and buried his face in you with a growl–low, deep, hungry. His tongue dragged through your folds in one long, devastating stroke, and your thighs clamped around his head before you could stop yourself. Your back arched as a moan tore from your throat, hands flying back to tangle in his hair, anchoring him where you needed him most.

“Shit–” You gasped, barely able to breathe. “Rhett–”

He moaned into you, the sound sending vibrations straight through your core. He was slow at first–leisurely, almost taunting–his tongue curling around your clit, teasing it with soft, wet laps until your legs were trembling. And then he flattened his tongue and licked you deeper, harder, messier. Like a man possessed. Like he had been starving for you.

His stubble scratched at the tender skin of your inner thighs, his nose pressed against your mound as he licked you like you were his only salvation. He slipped one hand under your ass to tilt your hips closer to his mouth, the other splayed over your stomach, holding you down when you started to squirm. You were so wet already, and he didn’t let a drop go to waste–licking up everything, moaning into you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Goddamn, you taste so good,” He mumbled, voice muffled against your soaked folds. “Sweetest thing I’ve ever had on my tongue…Like fresh fuckin’ honey.” He pulled back just enough to blow cool air over your clit, watching the way you twitched, feeling the way your nails dug into his hair, your thighs trying to stay wide open even as they trembled from the stimulation. His lips were slick with you, chin glistening in the golden kitchen light as he looked up at you with that crooked, filthy smile that always meant trouble.

“You want my fingers to fill you up?” He rasped, voice low, thick with hunger. One of his calloused hands slid up your trembling thigh, hot and firm, until it settled just shy of where you needed him. “Want me to fuck this pretty pussy with ‘em?” You let out a shaky breath, hips rolling toward him like your body was answering before your mouth could. Your back arched slightly against the counter, and your fingers curled tighter in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan.

“Use your words,” He growled, the edge of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Tell me you want me to fill you up with my fingers.” Your breath caught in your throat. The demand, the look in his eyes–like he’d been starving for this and wouldn’t settle for anything less than full submission–sent a hot shiver down your spine.

“Rhett…” You breathed, your voice wrecked, desperate. “Please…Please fill me up with your fingers. I need them so fucking bad.” He moaned, the sound vibrating between your thighs, and nipped at the soft skin of your inner thigh hard enough to make you jump. You gasped, hands flying to the edge of the counter to brace yourself, your legs already trembling. His mouth found your clit again with no warning, tongue sliding flat and firm across it as his hand finally moved between your folds.

Then—without preamble—two thick fingers slid inside you.

“Fuck—!” you cried, body jerking forward as the stretch caught you off guard, the sudden fullness making your eyes flutter shut. Rhett groaned into your cunt, the sound muffled and greedy, like the taste of you was the only thing tethering him to the earth.

His fingers curled as they plunged deep, slow at first, dragging against your walls while his mouth latched onto your clit. He sucked hard, tongue flicking mercilessly, his hand cradling your hip to hold you in place while his other worked you open.

“Jesus Christ, Rhett…” you gasped, your head falling back, thighs squeezing around his head like a vice. Your fingers yanked at his hair, hard this time, dragging a sharp groan from his throat.

“You’re such a good boy…” You whispered between ragged breaths, your voice cracking at the edges. “Fuck…Just like that, you’re makin’ me feel so good…”

He moaned into you again–desperate, wrecked–and shook his head back and forth against your clit, spreading your slick across his cheeks, smearing it across the scruff on his jaw. His fingers picked up speed, driving into you harder now, knuckles brushing the base of your heat with every stroke. You could hear how wet you were, obscene and messy, every thrust sending hot pulses of pleasure straight through your belly.

“Rhett–” You whimpered, your voice high and broken, “Don’t stop, don’t stop–God, I’m so close–”

He didn’t let up. If anything, he doubled down.

He growled again, deeper this time, his nose pressed against your mound, tongue flicking rapidly as his fingers pounded into you with a steady, punishing rhythm. His hand twisted slightly, angling just right, and you cried out–loud, helpless–as your body jerked forward and your orgasm began to climb.

You were shaking, legs trembling violently, your vision blurring as you looked down at him. His blue eyes were nearly black now, pupils blown wide with heat, locked on you as if he could feel every twitch of your body.

“I can feel you clenchin’ around me,” He murmured between strokes of his tongue, his voice dark and reverent. “You’re so fuckin’ close, aren’t you?”

You nodded, frantic, a sob bubbling up in your chest. “I…Rhett, I’m gonna–”

“Do it,” He growled, teeth grazing your clit as he thrust his fingers deeper, faster. “Cum for me, darlin’. Make a fuckin’ mess on my hand.”

And with one final curl of his fingers and a sharp flick of his tongue–

You shattered.

You came with a cry, back arching hard, your hands scrambling for anything to hold on to as you pulsed around his fingers. Your thighs clamped around his head and your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, body shaking with the force of it. Rhett didn’t stop–he kept his mouth on you, licking through your release like he was trying to drink you down, groaning and rutting his hips against the air like tasting you made him lose control.

“Fuck…Fuck, Rhett!” You sobbed, tears pricking the corners of your eyes from the sheer intensity. He pulled his mouth away slowly, dragging his tongue up your folds before kissing your clit one more time–gentle now, almost sweet. His fingers eased out of you, glistening, dripping. He looked wrecked. Wild. His lips were swollen, chin drenched in you, eyes blown wide.

Then he stood, towering over you once more, and held his slick fingers up between you.

“Look at what you did,” He murmured, dragging them into his mouth with a groan. “Tastes even better than I remembered…”

You whimpered, still shaking, thighs sticky and spread, dress bunched around your waist.

He leaned down, kissed you slow, deep–feeding you your own taste from his tongue as he pressed his hard length against your core through his jeans.

“You ready for round two in that bedroom of yours?” He rasped, biting your bottom lip gently.

“Take me there,” You breathed, voice trembling with need. “Now.” He slipped his hands under your thighs, lifting you off the counter like you weighed nothing to him. You let out a soft gasp, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist, your arms curling around his shoulders. Your pulse fluttered in your throat as he turned on his heel and carried you down the hall. You trailed kisses along the side of his neck, nibbling gently at his salty skin, tasting sweat and firelight and him. His scent clung to you–leather, cedar, and musk–and your hips rolled against his stomach with every step he took.

Your bedroom door was already cracked, golden light spilling onto the floor from the bedside lamp you’d left on earlier, and Rhett didn’t bother to slow down.

He kicked the door open with the toe of his boot. The wood smacked gently against the wall, and then he was inside, crossing the room in long, purposeful strides. You barely had time to inhale before he threw you down onto the mattress with a grunt.

You bounced once–softly, breathlessly–letting out a little surprised gasp as you landed. The bed creaked beneath you, and the air shifted with the sudden motion, the scent of fresh laundry and the faintest trace of lavender rising around you.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, hair falling wild around your face as you looked up at him.

Rhett was standing at the foot of the bed, chest heaving, eyes burning. He shrugged the worn green fabric off his shoulders, tossing it to the floor in one fluid motion. Then came his white t-shirt–damp with sweat, clinging to his chest in all the right places. He peeled it off slow, dragging it over his head, revealing golden skin dusted with a constellation of freckles that made your chest ache. He was sun-kissed and sweat-slicked and absolutely flawless. He wasn’t just handsome. He was rugged and real and raw. The kind of man who didn’t try to hide his scars or smooth out his edges. The kind of man who looked like summer heat and rodeo dust and aching, bone-deep need.

Your eyes drank him in–the defined muscles of his stomach, the dip of his hips, the faint trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his jeans. Your lips parted as your gaze roamed, a smile curving against your face.

”Always look fucking amazing Rhett.” His lips curved into a crooked smirk, but there was heat behind it. Need. Adoration.

“This is all yours, darlin’,” He rasped, voice low and full of promise. “Always has been.”

You sat up slowly, the silk of your dress shifting against your skin as you reached for the hem. You pulled it over your head in one smooth motion, the fabric slipping from your body. You let the dress fall beside the bed, letting your thighs spread slightly, your body glowing under the soft lamp light. You watched him watching you, eyes tracing every inch of your naked form, and you saw the way his throat bobbed, the way his chest rose like he was struggling to keep from falling to his knees again.

He held himself together just long enough to unbuckle his belt, the soft clink of metal echoing through the warm bedroom like a promise. His fingers moved with quiet urgency–undoing the button of his jeans, pushing both denim and boxers down his thick bull rider thighs in one swift motion. His cock sprang free, heavy and flushed, already aching for the place it belonged most. You swallowed hard at the sight of it–thick and glistening at the tip, veins prominent, twitching slightly with every heartbeat.

Rhett braced his knees on the mattress, the bed dipping under his weight, and the way he looked at you–like a starving man about to sink his teeth into a feast–made your entire body tighten with anticipation.

“Turn over for me, darlin’,” He rasped, his voice rough with desire. “Wanna see that ass of yours.” You licked your lips and obeyed without hesitation, rolling onto your stomach, the sheets cool against your heated skin. You shifted slowly, arching your hips, pressing your chest down to the mattress as your knees slid apart to make room for him. Your breath caught as you felt the air on your slick, swollen folds, and your spine tingled with every inch you exposed to him.

Rhett groaned behind you, deep and guttural, like the sight of you was too much to take.

“Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered, and then you felt his rough hands on you–calloused palms kneading at your ass, massaging the soft flesh with reverence and need. He squeezed, spreading your cheeks apart just to look, just to watch how you pulsed around nothing.

”God you’re so fuckin’ soaked,” He whispered, leaning forward, his breath hot on your lower back. His thumbs dipped just below your folds, spreading you open even further, and you gasped when the air touched your dripping entrance. His lips pressed to your skin, and you shivered at the feel of him kissing a slow, open trail across your back–tongue dragging along your spine, stubble scratching faintly as he worshipped his way down.

“You’ve got no idea what this does to me,” He moaned between licks. “Seein’ you like this…Spread out, waitin’ for me.” You pressed your cheek against the sheets, hands curling into the covers.

Then finally you felt the hot, hard weight of his cock nudge between your thighs. The head dragged slowly through your folds, catching on your clit before slipping down, spreading your slick across his length as he rutted against you with lazy, teasing strokes. You tried to push back, tried to angle your hips to take him inside, but Rhett gripped your waist with both hands and stilled you with a low, warning growl.

“Uh uh,” He muttered, his voice close to a snarl. “You’re gonna take it slow, baby. You’re gonna feel every inch.” He rubbed the thick head of his cock against your entrance, pressing just barely inside, enough to stretch you open but not fill you.

You whimpered, hips twitching. “Please, Rhett…”

He chuckled darkly, his grip tightening.

“That’s it,” He murmured, “Beg for it. You were teasin’ me all night in that little dress, flashin’ those breasts, leavin’ me hard in the truck with your panties in my goddamn pocket.” He pushed in deeper–just a little–and your mouth dropped open with a sharp gasp. You were so wet he slid in with a slow, obscene glide, and still, he stopped halfway.

“Tell me whose pussy this is,” He growled, voice rough and tight with restraint. “Tell me who makes you feel this fuckin’ good.”

“You, Rhett,” You moaned, eyes squeezing shut, tears prickling from the fullness. “It’s yours. Always been yours.” And then–with a low groan–he sank in all the way, until his hips pressed flush against your ass. Your back arched, your legs trembling as the stretch overwhelmed your senses. He was thick and hot and so deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“Fuck, you take me so good,” He gritted out, stilling inside you, letting you adjust. His hands caressed your hips, then slid up your sides, fingertips dancing along your ribs. You whimpered into the sheets, your body trembling from the stretch, and Rhett leaned down to kiss the curve of your spine again.

”You’re such a good girl,” He whispered against your skin, “You take me so fuckin’ well.” And then he pulled out slowly, dragging along your walls, before thrusting back in with a deep, satisfying grind that made you cry out–

“Rhett…Oh my god–”

“I got you,” He growled, hands tightening on your waist. “Ain’t lettin’ go now.” Rhett’s hips rolled with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust thick and unrelenting, pressing so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat. The head of his cock kissed your cervix with every grind, dragging a loud moan out of your chest as your cheek pressed harder into the sheets. He moaned low behind you, the sound feral and full of heat, like he couldn’t help himself–like the grip of your pussy around him was sending him straight out of his mind.

“That’s it, baby,” He rasped, voice thick and husky, “Goddamn, you’re so tight…Fuckin’ squeezin’ me…” You moaned, dizzy, hips rolling back into him on instinct, chasing the friction with everything you had. The drag of his cock through your soaked heat was overwhelming–too much, not enough, perfect–and you could barely breathe around it.

“Rhett–” You whimpered, fingers curling tight into the sheets. “Feels so fucking good–I can’t–”

He leaned over you then, chest pressed to your back, his sweat-slick skin burning hot against yours. One hand slid beneath your body, gripping your forearm just as your own reached back, clinging to him like you’d fall apart if you didn’t anchor yourself to his body. His mouth brushed your ear, voice dark and ragged.

“You feel that, darlin’? That’s me fuckin’ you so deep you’ll still feel me tomorrow.” His other hand gripped your hip, bruising in its strength, dragging your ass back onto every slow, brutal thrust. The sound of your bodies–wet, filthy, loud–echoed through the room, joined by your soft, desperate cries and the deep, growling grunts from Rhett’s chest.

You turned your head on the mattress, your cheek dragging against the fabric, eyes glazed as they found his over your shoulder. The fire in them–pure, blue, blown wide–nearly stole your breath.

“Look at me,” he ordered, thrusting deep again, holding it, grinding just enough to make your stomach clench. “Wanna see your face when I ruin you.”

You moaned brokenly, your free hand shooting back to grab at his wrist again. “Fuck…Rhett…please–” He was smiling now–hungry and possessive and glowing with sweat, the tendons in his neck taut with restraint.

“Yeah, that’s it. Show me that pretty face when I fuck you stupid.” Then he pulled out slow…All the way to the tip…And slammed back in hard enough to jolt a cry from your lungs.

“Rhett!” You gasped, overwhelmed, eyes fluttering, tears stinging as your thighs trembled.

“You gonna cum again on my cock, sweetheart?” He panted, slamming into you again, the rhythm now faster, messier, the sound of your slick louder, wetter. “Gonna soak me while I fill you up?”

“Yes…Fuck…Yes, I’m gonna cum…”

“Then turn over,” He growled, voice guttural as he pulled out of you with a wet, sinful sound. “Turn over for me, baby–wanna see that face when you finish around my cock.” You rolled without hesitation, back hitting the mattress, hair fanned wild around you. Your chest heaved with every breath, breasts flushed and glistening, your thighs still trembling as you spread them wide for him again, raw and wanting.

Rhett climbed over you, eyes blazing, and when he guided his cock back to your entrance, he didn’t waste time. He pushed in deep with a groan, bottoming out inside you in one smooth stroke that made your mouth fall open in a silent scream.

His hands gripped your thighs and pushed them up, bending you in half, the new angle perfect–too perfect. You sobbed his name as his hips snapped into you, every thrust now hitting a spot that made your toes curl.

“That’s my girl,” He panted, jaw clenched, sweat dripping from his hairline onto your chest. “This pussy’s mine, ain’t it?”

“Yes!” You cried, fingernails digging into his arms. “Fuck–it’s yours, Rhett, it’s all yours–”

“Say it again,” He growled, fucking you harder now, faster, the headboard slamming faintly into the wall. “Say it while I’m deep inside you–say it while I fill you up.”

“It’s yours…Yours…Fuck, Rhett, please cum inside me, I want it–need it–”

He snarled something low and incoherent, and then grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and pinning it above your head.

You watched his face–the way it twisted in pleasure, the way his eyes fluttered shut just for a second before locking back on yours, hungry and vulnerable all at once.

Then he leaned down, kissed you hard, and fucked you so deep and fast you saw stars.

“Gonna fill this pussy with all of my cum…” He whispered against your lips, voice thick and trembling. “Wanna see it dripping down your thighs when I’m done.” You whimpered, back arching, and that was it–that was what tipped you over the edge.

Your orgasm tore through you like wildfire, your walls clenching tight, soaking him as you sobbed into his kiss, body thrashing beneath his. Rhett cursed–loud and filthy–and then with a final thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, hips shaking as he came deep inside you with a broken moan, his hot cum filling you up in multiple streaks.

“Fuck…Fuck…baby–”

You held him through it, clinging to his arms, to his back, to anything you could reach. He stayed buried inside you, trembling, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile.

His forehead dropped to yours, and all he could muster to say was “I love you so fuckin’ much Y/N.”

You reached up and cupped his face, dragging your nails along his scalp.

”I love you too Rhett…Fucking love you so much.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Don't Speak 15

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, stalking, manipulation, reclusive behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader is a reclusive loner who ventures down to the library on a simple mission. Her task is complicated by the man she meets there. (f!short!reader)

Character: librarian!Andy Barber

Note: Happy Wednesday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You don’t feel better in the morning. The night brought little relief as your anxiety kept you wired and worried.

You can’t help but think of home and Amber. Will she be upset? Maybe she’ll be relieved. She’ll no longer have to look after you. She’s free.

That’s not home anymore. That thought tears you apart. It’s as if you can feel your insides stripping away as you tell yourself that over and over. You have no home. Not anymore. You’re not sure you ever did.

You sway between bouts of sobs and staring blankness. Not quite numb but too overwrought to feel. The house is strange, this bed is not your own, and you are lost.

A gentle rapping comes at the door as you wallow. You are trying to change. You won’t be the same burden you were to your sister. You are going to get better. Andy will not see you like this.

You suck back your grief and force yourself up. You cross to the door and open it a crack, hoping he doesn’t notice your swollen eyes. You force a sheepish smile as he greets you with a sleepy blink.

“Hey, just wondering if you wanted coffee,” his voice is sandy with sleep, “I gotta get the day started.”

“Um, no, I’m… I’m okay,” you croak before clearing the frog from your throat, “thank you.”

“You doing okay?” He puts a large hand on the doorframe.

“Mhmm,” you nod as you suck in your lower lip.

“Tea? I can put the kettle on.”

“Er, well, I was… I should shower first, if that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure,” he brightens up, rubbing his eyes as he takes a step back and yawns, “let me show you…” he beckons you out with a lazy wave, turning to cross the hall and open a door, “just in here.”

You let the door fall open and emerge, your pajama pants dragging at your feet. His own are low on his hips as he wears a grey tee that strains across his shoulders. You tiptoe forward and peer through the doorway.

“There’s some stuff for you,” he points to the small lilac basket on the counter, “I wasn’t sure if you would need anything but I grabbed some stuff. Just in case.”

“Oh, that’s… that’s really nice. You didn’t have to…” you clasp your hands together.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he assures you, “but yeah, sure you can figure it all out. And you know where to find me.”

“Okay, thanks,” you step aside as he backs out.

He faces you, trying to smooth his mussed hair, “you sure you’re doing alright? Big change.”

“Yeah,” you lie, “I just… need to get used to it.”

“Makes sense,” he nods, “well, I’ll be downstairs with my coffee.”

You grumble and turn to the bathroom. You stop yourself as he begins down the hallway. 

“Andy,” you call after him.

“Yeah?” He stops at the top of the stairs and looks back at you.

“About that job… can you ask about it?”

“Sure,” he says, “no problem.”

You wait for him to descend then close yourself up in the bathroom. You flick the lock into place and go to the basket on the counter. It smells very nice. There’s an assortment of goodies; bath bombs, creams, soaps, lotions, conditioner… You have your own stuff in your bag, cheap buck store stuff but it does the job. Still, the vanilla and cocoa scents are lovely.

You choose a few bottles and place them on the little shelf inside the shower. You figure out the faucet, testing the temperature with your fingers before closing the curtain. You undress slowly, taking your time as you focus on your simple task. More so to avoid the dread tugging at your brain.

You step into the tub and admire the pristine white tile. Your sister kept her house well but it didn’t change the decades old trim and worn out hardwood. This place is so sparkly and new.

Your curiosity distracts you from your purpose. There’s a little round object on the wall, attached by a suction cup. Looking closer, you figure out that it’s a speaker. Ah, bluetooth probably. How cool.

You bask in the heat of the shower and take your time in cleaning yourself. It’s almost renewing. 

You’re washing away your old life, getting ready for the new. One step at a time. First; the painting. That’s simple. Then maybe, the job at the library. See, you can do it. You just need to stay focused. 

Yet, it feels all so complicated as you try to unknot the tangle of your doubts. You want to be excited but you’re just afraid. 

📚

You spend your morning trying to get started on painting. With Andy gone, you expect it to be easy but your focus is fleeting. You have your reference, your paint brush, and all the time you need but you just can’t make yourself start.

You give up around noon, after a few strokes here and there but nothing evident. It hardly looks any different than when you got set up. You’re disappointed but you can try again later. Right?

You’ll do something productive. As you enter the house, you look around at the strange walls and feel smaller. You don’t belong here. You don’t feel any better than before. Andy’s been so nice and all you do is mope and procrastinate. Well, you can do something.

You go into the kitchen. Reticent as first, you search the cupboards and drawers. Amber always loved when you surprised her with dinner. Thinking of her hurts so you make yourself stop before it can drain you completely.

Noodles… you could do a tuna casserole! You haven’t made one in a while. Not very special but it’s a meal. Amber always reminded you that food on its own is something to be grateful for.

Go away! You don’t want to think about her. It’s like she’s torturing you from afar. You’re moving on. You set her free, so why won’t she let you go?

You concentrate on your task, even as her ghost follows you around. You feel her most when you can’t find something; when you’re completely lost in this unfamiliar place. She’s that little voice telling you that you made the wrong decision. The one telling you to go home.

That’s not your home. It’s hers.

You pull out a pan with your ingredients, and a pot. You go through the steps one by one. You have the casserole ready and in the oven before two. You’ll turn it on closer to four or five so it’s ready when he gets home.

You pull out a box of crackers as your stomach clenches painfully. You only eat two before your appetite flutters away. You can’t remember the last time you had a full meal. You make a cup of tea and take that out to the garage.

You stare at the painting and compare it to the sketch on your tablet. You shrink down as you realise how much there is to do. Maybe this is too much. Maybe you can’t do it.

You drop your head, cradling it as you fight back the wracking in your chest. You just feel like crying until you’re weak. Crawling into bed and hiding away for days and days. Maybe forever. There’s something wrong with you; not just now but it’s always been wrong.

You wallow in your anxiety, swaying in between dread and self-pity. You hear an engine through the metal door and the flash of light beneath assures you of Andy’s arrival. You stand as the large door begins to roll up and you face him as he walks up the driveway. 

Oh no!

You give a panicked look as he approaches and you close your tablet. You set it on the stool as his smile falters, “what’s going on? You okay?”

“I forgot to turn the stove on,” you decry, “I’m sorry.”

“The stove?” He asks with a stitch in his forehead.

“I made casserole,” you say, “but I meant to have it ready when you got home.”

“Casserole?” His cheek dimples, “I don’t mind waiting.”

“Alright,” you press your hands to your legs and turn, marching away fast.

The door slowly descends with a creak as he follows a few paces back. You scurry inside and down the hallway. You go into the kitchen and stop short as you approach the stove. Amber’s stove is ancient, it has dials mostly. This one has a dozen buttons.

It takes a few tries but you finally get it preheating. Andy hovers at the edge of your vision. You turn and stand behind the counter, watching him, unsure what to do next.

“What kind of casserole?” He asks as he nears the island and rests his hands on the edge.

“Just tuna. Nothing special.”

He nods and his throat bobs. He clears it before he finds his voice again, “dove, that is special. Do you know–” he pauses and gulps again, “do you know how long it’s been since I had someone to cook for me? Since I had a dinner to come home to?”

“Oh?” You furrow your brow. You didn’t think of that.

“That’s very special, that’s… thank you. I love tuna.”

“Good,” you exhale, “good, I was… worried.”

“Worried?” He chuckles, “don’t. It’s nice just having someone here to greet me.”

He pushes away from the counter as you stay on the other side. He turns and shrugs out of his jacket before passing into the dining room. You wait there and he returns as he unbuttons the top button of his shirt. He rolls his shoulders and sighs.

“I’m all tense,” he leans on one of the tall stools along the island.

“Oh? Was it a bad day?”

“Eh, it was… a day,” he leans forward and brushes his fingers along his beard, “how about you?”

You look down ashamed and push your shoulders up. “I didn’t get much done…”

“That’s okay. You got time,” he assures lightly, “can’t pressure good art, right?”

You nod and peek up at him. Your insides twitch nervously. Just ask.

“Did you ask about the job?”

“Uh, yeah,” he bends his arm against the granite, “you would need to submit a resume.”

Your heart plummets but you fight not to show it. A resume? You would only end up with a blank piece of paper. You look away.

“Right, I’ll uh, I’ll get one together,” you utter with no real intent. You’re too embarrassed to even try.

“Just a formality, really. There’s a whole process,” he explains, “I can help if–”

A loud knock interrupts him. His cheek ticks as he glances over his shoulder. You tense up as he stands and the pounding continues.

“Not expecting anyone…” he mutters as he walks out with his hands in his pockets, his stature calm and unbothered despite the battering of the front door.

You hear him open the door as the rapping stops. You hold your breath and listen, frozen at the staunch tones that meet him.

“Sir, we got a call,” you hear faintly.

You swallow and come around the island. The unexpected visitors continue and you hear your name. You peek around the doorframe. You can see the top of the police caps just past Andy’s tall figure.

“A call? For what?”

“We understand that she’s here.”

“Uh, yeah?” Andy answers in a thin timbre, “she’s a friend.”

“Can we talk with her?”

“Of course you can but… why?”

“Sir, standard wellness check.”

“Wellness check?” Andy blusters, “look, I know the law, you have no cause–”

“Andy,” you step out meekly.

“Honey,” he turns so his back is to the open door, “everything’s fine.”

“Are you…” the officer asks your name. You nod as you inch forward. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions?”

“Um…” you look at Andy.

“You don’t have to,” he insists.

"What's wrong?" You clasp your hands together tightly as you come down the hallway.

"Miss, we're just here to check in, make sure you're well," the first officer begins.

"Yeah, I'm… fine."

"Would you mind coming out and talking with us," the other, a woman, asks.

"Why?"

Andy exhales but says nothing.

"Okay?"

You pass Andy and step out onto the porch. The officers stare behind you. They're met with a gritty sigh.

"Sir, do you mind if we speak alone?"

"This is my house," Andy retorts.

"Sure, but we just need to chat with her–"

"Honey, do you want me to go?" He bulls through the officer's words.

"Er, I don't… I don't know."

The first officer pokes his lower lip with his tongue and signals to the other, "miss, are you being held here?"

"What?" You gasp.

"Are you being held here against your will?"

Andy scoffs and and issues a sharp, "come on."

"We had a report and it is our obligation to investigate," the second officer denotes, "so?"

"N-no," you stammer. "No, of course not."

"Thank you," she says as she reaches in her pocket, "that's it but…" she holds out a card, "I'll leave this with you."

You sense Andy shifting behind you. You take the card and read the name on it. Sergeant Macy Jones. 

"You wanna ask her anything else? Maybe if I bought her off the black market," Andy snarls.

"Sir, it’s standard procedure. We have to come out."

"Sure," Andy sneers.

"Thank you," you say, "I'm okay."

You back up as Officer Jones narrows her eyes, watching Andy as you retreat inside.

"My number's there," she reminds you.

You give one last thank you and Andy swings the door shut. He sniffs loudly and you quickly hurry down the hall. He follows but not swiftly.

He enters the kitchen as you set the timer on the stove. He clucks and stops on the other side of the counter.

"You know it was her, right?"

You look at him. You figure it was Amber but she's probably just confused. Once she hears you're okay, she'll back off.

"Don't you see? She'll do anything to keep control. She wants to keep you down. She doesn't want you to be successful."

"She's worried," you say.

"About herself," he accuses, "she would claim that I… I took you? I wouldn't… dove, you came here because you want to, right?"

"Erm, uh," you slump your shoulders, his anger roiling hotly from him.

"I didn't make you come here, did I? I'm helping you."

"You are," you confirm smally, "Andy, please… I… I don't like anger."

He stops himself and faces you, gripping the lip of the counter as his brows draw together. He lets out a breath and his expression softens.

"I'm sorry," he lowers his chin and shakes his head, "I'm sorry. It's just… it's insulting. After all I did to protect you from her, she would send the police after me like a criminal. She– she would have them check on you like a child."

"Yeah," you murmur, fidgeting as you reel with his rant. 

You can't believe she'd call the police. She's trying to get you in trouble. You didn't do anything wrong. All you did was try to be your own person, but Andy's right, she never wanted that for you.

[odetojeons]

Until It Feels Like You’re In Heaven — Jeon Wonwoo

request:  Hello do you still take requests? Your writing is amazingggg!! Thank you for existing 😭💕. Can i req a whipped dom!wonwoo x fem reader where he has a size kink and a smol gf please? I think that will be a cute concept 🥺

tags: fem and sub!reader, dom!wonwoo, size kink, tattoed and pierced jeon wonwoo just because, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (uh idk why but I never write sex with a condom help), established wonwoo x reader, a tiiiny bit of spitting kink, very light verbal humiliation, aftercare, this goes from fluff to horny really quickly, fluff if you squint (or not?), a frankly unrealistic amount of cum, OH AND, stomach bulge 🥴

a/n: so haha I am back? with more filth? I tried adding fluff (even tho I completely forgot that the person who made the request asked for whipped wonwoo, good thing this is always in my agenda every time I write so I didn't have any problems lmfao) but I'm too much of a horny bitch and a simp for this man so,, idk? tell me what you think later! I hope you all perish— I mean, like this!

Word Count: 7826

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⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ “Aren’t you going to help?” you question, lifting a brow at your boyfriend, who’s currently sitting in one of the chairs and supporting his chin with the palm of his hand, plate of onions that should be already cut laying untouched in front of him.

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“Nope,” Wonwoo answers, giving you that kind of smile which makes you almost, almost feel less annoyed at the fact that you’ve been trying to reach something in the upper shelves for the last five minutes and he doesn’t move his ass to help you at all. “You’re just too cute trying to reach something.”

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There’s heat creeping up your neck, cheeks tinting red, and Wonwoo's smile gets bigger, shining and full of fondness. It leaves you stunned in silence for a while. It’s hard not to be in love with him. But it’s not like you try anyways.

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“J-just hurry up, aren’t you hungry?” you cough, looking away solely because you can’t stand the warmness in Wonwoo’s face without feeling like you’re going to combust any time soon.

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“I am. I can help you out,” he states simply, but doesn’t make a move. You gesticulate with your hand, pointing at him and at the rice jar in the upper shelf. “But only if you say please, though.”

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“I’m—” laughing incredulously, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “Would you please get the rice jar for me, sir?”

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Wonwoo stares at you for a second too long, eyes a bit dark, and gets up to get the jar, without breaking eye contact. You instinctively make yourself smaller when his bigger and broader frame hovers over you, large enough to swallow your tiny body. The size difference has always been something you both feel incredibly turned on by.

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“So small,” he appreciates, always does, and your neck burns from the intensity of your blushing. “The cutest.”

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Wonwoo puts the rice jar in your hands, the darkness in his face melting into a beam.

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“Here it goes, little girl,” he says, going back to his chair to complete the task which he has been doing for at least ten minutes now. The way he says little girl has you dumbfounded, heart hammering against your chest. “Are you just going to stand there? Do you like being called little that much?”

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“Shut up,” you admonish, blushing furiously as you turn on your back to continue what you were doing.  You just hate how everything Wonwoo does affects you so much. You’re sure this must be bad for your health.

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The two of you continue your journey through cooking and eating after you’re both done with the preparations. Things with Wonwoo are always so easy, everything feels natural and domestic and the bubbling feeling of happiness you feel whenever you’re with him lulls you to fall in love with him even deeper than before.

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The way he teases you when you’re clumsy and spill sauce over yourself, but still cleans you up with the most fond smile ever, like you’re so completely adorable he can’t help himself. Or when you put more salt in the food than you should and you know it’s not that good, but he still compliments it and tells you he loves it so much, the sincerity in his eyes makes a surge of something pull at your lower stomach.

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If Jeon Wonwoo isn’t the love of your life, you don’t know who is.

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But right now you just want the ground to eat you alive and swallow you whole, because you’re standing right in front of the bed. The one bed. To which it suddenly doesn’t look big enough, not as you remember.

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Well, it’s not like you have never shared a bed before, you have even had a shit ton of sex in this exact piece of mattress, but the thing is, it’s been a while since you last saw Wonwoo. His job required him to spend three months away, and this is the first time you came to his house ever since he came back two days ago.

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You consider throwing yourself out of the window and into the dark, miserable night, thinks your poor heart will explode otherwise.

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“I’m not going to eat you.” Wonwoo’s voice carries over from the bathroom door, startling you into action. You jerk toward the bed, jumping on it and face flushing. You had showered before him, now dressed with one of his big shirts.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It fell all the way to your mid thigh, the size difference between the two of you making you almost drown on the fabric of his clothes. It smells nice, smells like Wonwoo, and your cheeks burn when he drinks the sight of you in with dark eyes, not even trying to hide.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Unless you want me to,” he adds, not helping your situation at all.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  

BSHANDJAJSND?, your brain supplies.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Oh my god,” you admonish, yanking the blanket off the bed and just as you get in, your eyes hone in on the ink swirling up Wonwoo’s right biceps. You have seen the tattoo through the pictures he sent you before, the snake crawling up to his shoulder, head stopping at his right chest.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This is, however, the first time you’ve seen the metal bar through one of Wonwoo’s nipples — to which you already knew the existence of, but looking in person is totally different ���, heat winding in the pit of your belly as you realize the snake is looking right at that same nipple. Unfortunately for your poor heart, he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweats, hanging low on his hips, slim waist on display.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is… hot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s no other way to put it despite your best efforts. He looks like one of those Greek statues, rippling muscle and hand carved abs, the cut of his jaw too sharp to be real. Your mouth waters and you can’t look away.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And Wonwoo has been changing. He always had the thin type of body, being slim and tall, but in the end of last year he started exchanging the lazy hours he spent gaming with animated workouts at the gym — something about the way he was wasting his precious time of life and he could be acquiring knowledge and being healthy instead of sitting in front of a computer for hours —, and holy fuck if the result wasn’t quite the damn view.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You draw the blanket right up to your chin, back very purposefully to Wonwoo’s side of the bed as you’re still trying to stop the mild heart attack you have going on. You don’t want to see him climbing into bed for safety purposes but that doesn’t mean your heart rate doesn’t spike up when the bed dips. When Wonwoo settles down under the same blanket, your brain very enthusiastically — and meaningfully — points out that you’re only a few centimeters away and that there’s nothing separating you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

His abs flash behind your eyes and you nearly throw the blanket off, ready to storm out of the room and sleep on the sofa instead. You let out a breath you don’t even know you’re holding when Wonwoo flicks the flight off, the room disappearing into darkness, before he turns on the red leds from under his bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You feel warm all over with the fact that he still remembers you don’t like sleeping in complete darkness.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀

You try not to tense too much when he drapes an arm around your waist, locking you in. Your legs tangle together as he adjusts himself better, the other arm coming behind your head to serve as a pillow. Now you’re not only dying from the closeness but as well essentially drooling over the bulge of his thick biceps.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Congratulations universe for managing to make you even more desperate.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure how long you just lie there, staring out the window, unable to fall asleep. Your brain doesn’t want to shut off, a blaring alarm of Jeon Wonwoo going off in your head.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I missed you so much,” Wonwoo says as if he read your thoughts, voice soft and filled with warmth, and you find yourself immediately melting in his arms despite your nervousness. “Thought I was going crazy without you, munchkin.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a hard squeeze in your heart. You just love so much when he calls you that.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed you too,” you admit with a smile, the tip of Wonwoo’s nose dragging through your hair as he inhales the smell of his own shampoo. “Missed your smell.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Just my smell?” Wonwoo teases with a light tone, caressing his free hand on your inner thigh. It was supposed to be a feather-like gesture, but the closeness between the two of you made your body oversensitive, and you find yourself moaning softly as your skin rocks with a shiver.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo tenses immediately when he hears the sound, hand stuttering to a stop. There’s a beat of what you call the most painful silence you ever had — your mind swirls with the thought that you just ruined the mood, face heating up uncontrollably at your own neediness —, before his fingers sink into the flesh of your inner thigh, startling you with the strength behind his grip.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Answer me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀

You whine louder this time, the realization of his change of tone going from fond to an irrevocable order sinking wanton deep within your lower stomach. You try to close your legs, but Wonwoo’s leg stops you where it rests right in the middle of them, dangerously close to your throbbing core. You wonder if he could feel the heat emanating from it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“N-no,” you begin, voice already shaken up. Wonwoo’s breath caresses the helix of your ear, making goosebumps surge all over your skin. “Missed y-your bed too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Is that so?” he hums, chest vibrating where it presses against your back. “What else, munchkin?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Missed—” your voice gets caught up in your throat when he licks your helix, teeth pulling the lobe of your ear. The soft drag of his lips all over that place is making your job difficult. “M-missed all of you, hmmm.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hums again, pleased with your answer, and leans so close to you your body gets half pinned to the bed. This way his bigger frame completely engulfs your smaller one, the difference between your sizes getting even more overwhelming now that he’s bulked up.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And you’re not the only one affected by it, because as soon as Wonwoo realizes how he almost swallows you up in this position, he downright moans right by your ear.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So fucking small,” he tells you appreciatevely, voice one octave lower as his fingers presses on your inner thigh harder. “Missed touching you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a shift in Wonwoo, his leg rising up between yours and stopping centimeters away from the heat of your cunt, and you can’t hold back the shiver, wants Wonwoo to press down there. When you attempt to slide Wonwoo’s hand up and off of you so then you could turn around, you’re met with a growl instead, Wonwoo bodily pinning you to the bed.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, and it makes you feel like you’re a prey just ready to be caught by the big, bad wolf. You whine softly at that thought, hand coming to grab at Wonwoo’s wrist reflexively.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” is your answer, like that would explain everything. Wonwoo chuckles softly, embarrassment burning on your cheeks.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“When we called and I saw your face,” he says, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Suddenly, you can’t remember how to breathe, Wonwoo’s mouth on your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear. He nuzzles into the same spot, kisses lower and your heart shakes loud enough you think the neighbors might hear, hyperaware of every inch of your bodies touching.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I know I couldn’t, so I did it all from behind,” Wonwoo admits, sending your mind into a little haze. Of course he has been jerking off to the thought of you, but hearing him say it out loud has your panties getting soaked. “Sticking my dick in…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo hasn’t stopped nuzzling you, in some kind of daze as he inhales your scent. There’s a hand on your hip now, holding you down, liquid heat pooling in your belly, spreading outward.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“…and fucking you mercilessly…” he continues, voice getting deeper and rougher with each word, his breath labored. “…and watching you cum endlessly… I thought I would be fine just imagining it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Won—” you start, breathless, the sound of your own voice sounding so airy leaving you embarrassed. But then finally, finally he presses his thigh into your core, your hips immediately going down to rut hard against the muscle.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fucking drenched,” Wonwoo snarls lowly when he feels the wetness of your soaked panties dirtying the fabric of his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The sound makes you writhe on the bed, fists balling in the mattress.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“But seeing you, so small…” the trace of Wonwoo’s hand in your skin is light, almost like a gentle whisper as it makes a burning path up, up, up until it stops by your neck, fingers closing softly around your throat. “Makes me want to rail you, carve the shape of my big cock inside your walls.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s teeth sink into the skin just at the base of your neck. It’s hardly a bite, you know he could leave worse, but then Wonwoo laps at it afterwards, tender, surrenders you into moving your hips obscenely on his thigh. The way he says, knows his cock is big has heat licking your insides, and if it were anyone else saying the same thing you would be cringed, but there’s just something special about Jeon Wonwoo doing this that makes him look like the hottest man alive.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re addicting,” Wonwoo admits with a growl, the feeling of his touch turning possessive as he helps you ride his thigh better by a hand on your waist. “Once I get a taste I can’t stop myself from wanting more. Wanna have my way with you until you’re all mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Need seeps through your bones, body trembling as you try to scatter the air it has been knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo fits his cock in the curve of your ass.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you’re hard,” you comment, as if it’s not obvious, but it has been so long since the last time you felt his bulge pressing against you that it makes you desperate. “You’re so hard.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Who’s fault do you think it is?” Wonwoo questions, groaning when you sway your hips from side to side on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we…” you trail off, hiding your face in the pillow. “Y-you know?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Nope, you gotta be more specific,” he says with a teasing smile, and you smack him in the arm. Wonwoo laughs before his voice gets serious. “Say it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

This switch of him turning on and off between a sweet boyfriend to the man who doms you never fails to give you a whiplash.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Can we— Can w-we fuck?” you ask shyly, wanting the ground to swallow you whole. You have no idea why you are being this shy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hmm, it depends,” Wonwoo hums like he’s considering the options. You turn to look at him, mortified, but he only laughs at your indignation. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush furiously at the question, face turning to look away as you mumble a yes, but then Wonwoo’s grabbing at your jaw and yanking your head back in place until you’re staring right in the deepness of his eyes, the intensity of them stunting you into complete silence.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he orders, leaving no room for arguments, and you nod your head quickly at that. “Out loud.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-yes,” you hurry to obey, watching satisfaction curl all over his face. “‘M always a good girl.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I don’t think so, munchkin,” Wonwoo grins, wicked and teasing, and you brace yourself for whatever is going to happen this night. “Sometimes you’re so desperate and impatient you can’t even wait for me before fucking yourself with those plastic toys of yours.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” and you’re unable to look away even when shame burns all over your body. “H-how did you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“How did I know?” your sentence morphs into a moan when Wonwoo presses his thigh so hard against you cunt it has your body jumping a little. “You think I wouldn’t feel how you’re more loose when I fucked you? You think I don’t notice the way you look at me?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo is mercilessly dragging your hips up and down his leg, your whines sounding high and sweet in your own ears.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re oblivious even to yourself,” he tells you, tone rough as he ruts against your ass. Your heart lurches in your chest, Wonwoo’s words like a hot coal in the pit of your belly, erupting into flames. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, cunt pulsing with arousal. “Even today, the way you were staring at me…”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s touch is gone. His hands leave your hips, thigh frees you from the pressure, and the warmth seems so far now. You turn, complaint already at the tip of your tongue, but Wonwoo’s faster, rougher as he manhandles you on your back and hovers over your body, caging you in with his arms.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You looked like a prey who has just been caught into the wolf’s den,” he smiles at you, wicked and cruel as he grabs your jaw and pushes your head back. “Like you wanted me to break you in until it feels like you’re in heaven.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s a breath against your bare neck, his groan hitting your skin when he bites it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Or eat you up until there’s nothing left in you that doesn’t belong to me,” you’re definitely not expecting the moan that escapes Wonwoo’s mouth, so affected and deep it’s got all the hairs in your nape standing up, every fiber of your body telling you to submit. “Fuck, and it turns me on so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You make a sound out of neediness, hands reaching for Wonwoo. He goes easily, body pressing into yours as he crashes your lips together. Wonwoo kisses you like he wants to conquer you, licking into the seam of your mouth and teeth scraping at your bottom lip just so he could soothe the pain later with his tongue. Your head spins with the intensity of it, it’s messy and there’s too much spit and teeth, but that only makes it even more addicting.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But Wonwoo doesn’t kiss you enough today. He almost never does when he’s feeling like that — possessive, mean, wicked even, when he needs you to know your damn place —, wants to ebb the pleasure away when you’re starting to get hotter until it’s replaced by pure desperation and you can’t do anything else other than beg for him to give in to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

So that’s what you do, staring up at his eyes trained on you as if you’re a prey.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please,” you start, voice caught into a moan when Wonwoo’s fingers sink into your jaw and his mouth falls ajar, like the sound of you saying this particular word gives a physical stroke to his cock. “P-please, fuck me. Wanna— Wanna belong t-to you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And that’s enough. That’s enough, that’s enough, Wonwoo wants, you want, and he’ll give that to you since he has always been a weak man for your begging. There’s a fraction of seconds that he thinks he might pass out with all the blood rushing from his head to his other head, cock throbbing in his sweatpants.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Don’t know how so much eagerness fits into this little body of yours,” Wonwoo murmurs against your mouth, his hand squeezing your face. You find yourself parting your mouth open, whining, pliant and overwhelmed as Wonwoo slips his tongue in again, kissing you filthy. The scent of his familiar cologne is so sharp, surrounding you and leaving your mind dazed until all you can think is Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo. When he pulls back this time, Wonwoo pushes his thumb into your mouth, eyes half-lidded as he watches you swirl your tongue around it, sucking it further into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan around it, watching Wonwoo’s every reaction, the way his breath hitches, shoulders tensing. There’s a shift on the bed, Wonwoo moving up and up and up and you can’t breathe because now the bulge pressing against the fabric of his clothes is standing proudly right in front of your face, Wonwoo almost straddling your chest. You let the realization that he’s going to fuck your mouth sink deep within your core, and try not to show how deeply affected you are by the idea.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You fail, of course, hips lifting off of the bed and falling down again, biting around the finger inside of your mouth that keeps you from taking a better look in the place you are dying to see.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“That desperate to suck me off, baby?” Wonwoo asks, and you flush, hate how you love the humiliated burn, how it makes you wetter. You’re too embarrassed to throw something back at Wonwoo, gaze dropping to his erect cock the best you can. He pushes your head back up, making you look at him instead. “Do you wanna see it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I do,” you reply, a little too fast for your own good, and it only serves for Wonwoo to laugh at your neediness. You debate if you’re as red as you think you are, the burn in your cheeks spreading all the way down to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Wonwoo’s tone is almost condescending, still playful, like he doesn’t think you can even handle the sight of his cock, and you like how it makes your cunt twitch and ache. It’s as if you enjoy the belittlement, enjoy the way Wonwoo wants you to prove yourself.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’m,” you start, swallowing, “I’m ready.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s smile is a touch dark, nearly a sneer, but his hand leaves your mouth to hook a thumb in the waistband of his pants. You nearly drool. He pulls on the fabric until his cock is free, slapping against your left cheek and smearing precum on your face. Your head spins, realising that even this part of Wonwoo’s body seemed to have grown bigger. Maybe it’s your imagination, haven’t actually seen it in real life for the past three months, but the thickness is intimidating.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The best intimidating possible.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your heart thuds in your chest, unable to look away from his cock. There’s spit collecting on your tongue, embarrassment fighting against your desire to please. Leaning forward, you suckle the tip into your mouth, making a pleased sound when you taste the salty tang of precum.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo leans back a bit, wanting to assess your face better, and the taut lines of his body contorts in an even hotter way with the new position. You moan again, staring at the piercing in Wonwoo’s nipple and the head of the inked snake looking at it, and sucks on the head, tongue pushing along the underside. Your body throbs with your own heated desire.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wrap a hand around the base, gut twisting hotly when you realise you can’t even get your fingers all the way around — no matter how many times you notice this, they all make you feel equally needy. And you’re not the only one affected by it, Wonwoo’s hips kicking forward and cock thrusting inside of your mouth, the growl he lets out going straight to your core.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” he says, breath audible enough to echo inside the room. “I will ruin you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The confession has your body arching for a few seconds, sucking hard on the tip of Wonwoo’s cock until he’s moaning at the feeling. He takes a fistful of your hair, but you push against the hold so you could take more of it into your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Quit it,” Wonwoo demands, your displeased whine making his hold grow firmer. “Do as you’re told or you might not get my cock at all tonight.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He pulls you off, your pants loud and labored.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did I make myself clear?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yes, sir,” you add just for the teasing — but mostly because you want Wonwoo to punish you for making him lose his beloved control —, feeling pleased as you watch the clear change of expressions going on in Wonwoo’s face. His eyes darken impossibly more, eyebrows frowning and then there’s a hand on your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your mouth goes dry as soon as his fingers close around your throat, body writhing and mind going into submission mode.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Filthy little slut,” Wonwoo snarls, face suddenly close, and then he’s spitting into your open mouth and you feel like you will come very soon. You flinch, eyes shutting on reflex, and then moan. “Want me to punish you, don’t you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t say anything, can’t say anything, but you hope the look in your eyes answers his question. It probably does, because there’s a tiny little smirk playing on the edge of Wonwoo’s lips before he kisses you, softer than you could ever imagine he would be in this moment.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” he breathes, the sudden confession making a different kind of burn itch your throat. You know very well that when Wonwoo tells you that I’m the middle of sex then it’s because this will be a passionate fucking. One of those that he keeps your body so close you think you might become one with him, one of those he kisses you so gently one moment only to treat you roughly in the other, one of those he wants to make you fall apart, crumble and cry and even so, it will be full of love and care and sweetness. “I love you so much.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t wait for your answer. Doesn’t need to, he knows your heart belongs to him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Say ah for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo instructs and you obey, mouth hanging open, tongue out. Wonwoo slaps his cock against it, precum dirtying your tongue as the slap slap slap of his cock hitting your mouth fills the heavy air of the room. He even traces the tip over your upper lip, smearing precum along your cheek when he slaps your face with it before placing his cock right back on your waiting tongue. “Put this mouth to better use.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You do, eager to do as you’re told after Wonwoo’s confession, blood singing from his praise and his disparagement alike. You sink down onto it as far as you can take it, nearly gagging when it hits the back of your throat. Wonwoo drowns out a broken “fuck” above you, stroking your cheek and moving further in the bed to lessen the awkward twist of your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth,” Wonwoo breathes, voice strained as you suck him off, head bobbing. He brushes your hair back, little groans and growls escaping him every time his cock hits the back of your throat, you swallowing around it, or when you speed up, fucking your mouth on Wonwoo’s length. “Such a pretty little cocksucker, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You blush, heart hammering in your chest with the compliment, but he closes a fist in your hair and makes you stop all movements.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Gonna fuck your mouth,” Wonwoo starts, holding your wrist with his free hand and putting your fingers above his thigh. You know that it means if you want me to stop, tap twice, and it makes heat coil in your belly. “until you gag.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan a bit uncontrollably around his cock, legs kicking in the bed at the affirmation, and Wonwoo is staring at you with a look you can’t quite describe. It makes you ashamed of being so eager but at the same time proud of being his little cockslut.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo holds you in place, hips bucking into your mouth. He goes slow at first, wanting you to get used with the feeling because it has been a while since the last time you sucked him off. It is short lived, as soon as you look up at him and nod — the best you could with your movements being kind of restricted —, his thrusts turn sharp and fast, your jaw aching from how long you had Wonwoo’s fat cock in your mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You moan, one of your hands still working up and down along Wonwoo’s shaft as he fucks into you, tears beginning to prickle at the corners of your eyes. He falls a bit forward when you start gagging a little, throat convulsing around his thickness, and he sprawls his fingers in the wall for support.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck fuck fuck, shit,” Wonwoo breathes, voice gravelly, his grip in your hair getting tighter and tighter. Tingles spark down your spine, wetness pouring out of you and soaking your panties even more and you want so desperately to come, to be fucked, but you want to please him first.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s thrusts begin to turn erratic as he fucks your mouth, a growl erupting out of him on a particularly hard thrust, and then he’s pulling away. You look at him, mind in a haze, but still dumbfounded. His breath is labored and he looks like he’s having a hard time keeping together, hips thrusting into the air. It boosts your ego to see him this messed up because of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did so well for me, sweetheart,” Wonwoo tells you, voice strained from effort but still full of fondness, and you feel butterflies dancing in your stomach at the praise. It seems like he wants his orgasm to ebb away. At the look you’re giving him, he adds: “Wanna cum with you.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You mewl at the thought, watching him position himself between your legs again and kissing you slowly. Wonwoo caresses your cheek with a gentle thumb, other hand tracing a feather-like path down your body. His fingers brush against your nipple, the whine you let out being swallowed by Wonwoo’s greedy mouth, and he sneaks his hand under your shirt just as his kisses fly to your neck.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And then Wonwoo’s sucking. Hard.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It caughts you off guard, hips lifting off of the bed and thigh pressing tightly against Wonwoo’s cock, his groan being muffled by your skin. He bites, suckles and kisses the particular spot underneath your jaw, so far up your neck you won’t be able to hide it, especially because it’s summer. And you feel warm all over, how he always remembers exactly your pleasure point, the place that has your head spinning with pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands fly to his hair, cunt throbbing with need when he tongues at the purple hickey, and it’s throbbing, pulsating with how hard he sucked. It leaves you breathless, not having time to recover when Wonwoo pulls your shirt up until he can get one nipple into his mouth.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwon, fuck,” you whimper, body oversensitive with all that has been going on, and Wonwoo growls at the nickname, hand coming to pinch your other nipple like he’s telling you how much this affects him. “Please—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo bites at it, tongue coming to soothe the pain later, and you’re sure the grip you have on his hair must be painful, but he says nothing; only looks more intent on making you moan. Wonwoo busies himself with sucking hickeys all over the place as one of his hands continues to descend down your body, thumb pressing in a spot by your hips that has your back arching and a desperate whine being pulled out of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Down and down, his fingers then slips inside your penties, brushing across your clit so lightly that it has your whole body rocking with shivers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

But then, Wonwoo’s body goes completely still. You feel him tensing under your palms, heat already flooding your face when you know he feels it, feels the way you’re already stretched open for him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You—” he starts but stops himself, pushing a finger inside for great measure. Wonwoo growls when he meets almost no resistance, face lifting from where it rests on your chest to look at you. “When?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

The intensity of his voice leaves your mouth dry.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“E-earlier, in the— in the s-shower,” you confess, voice quiet, and you can’t look away, Wonwoo’s eyes pinning you to your spot.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hah,” he states simply, a sound of pleasant surprise, and adds another finger inside. Wonwoo pushes them to the hilt, until his knuckles brush your pelvis. You moan, head thrown back at the sudden, but welcomed intrusion. “Acting all nervous around me but this is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He gyrates his hand, pushing hard and without mercy, right before he adds another finger, this time more slowly. It burns a little, his fingers way bigger than yours, but you love the slight pain.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come into my house knowing I would fuck you?” Wonwoo asks, knows the answers but does it anyway. He moves his hand a little, waiting for your to be more comfortable with the sensation of his fingers, but as soon as your frown turns upside down, Wonwoo has no restrains whatsoever, fucking into you fast and sharp. “Fingered yourself knowing that I would split you open on my big cock?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You can’t even think straight, hips rising off of the bed, but Wonwoo holds your waist with his free hand and pins them down hard. Your upper body lifts with this, back arching and legs kicking everywhere as you can’t stop the loud moans slipping through your lips, doesn’t even care about the neighbors as your nails sink into Wonwoo’s back to the point it might leave tiny crescent moons all over it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Did you come back then?” Wonwoo continues, pace unforgiving even when tears well up into your eyes. He trusts you to use your safeword if needed as much as you trust him to use his. “Did you?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You struggle to answer, voice being surrendered to moans and whines and whimpers and it’s hard to focus when he’s hitting your sweet spot with the tip of his fingers.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah! Ah, hmmm, f-fuck, please Won— Wonwon,” you try, can’t even understand how you still manage to get red when you realise Wonwoo is looking at you with so much desire. The point you both most like about your relationship is that Wonwoo is the dom, but he knows you have him in the palm of your tiny hands. “I, ah, d-din’t. Di— Didn’t want to, fuck, please— c-come without you—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pulls his fingers out at that, your cunt clenching around nothing as he goes lighting fast to take both of your clothes off, grab your waist and flip you on your stomach just as he reaches for the nightstand to grab what you know very well it’s a bottle of lube. He pulls your hips up until you’re face down, ass up on the bed, the hurry in all of this only sending desperation all over your body, and the sound of the cap being opened has butterflies in your stomach.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah? Fuck,” Wonwoo sounds a mess, fingers hurrying to close a fist on his cock and jerk it off furiously to spread the lube better, the wet head nudging against your rim. “Fuck, shit, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Do it,” you beg. “Please.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And who is he to deny what you want?

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo pushes inside you slowly despite his hunger, knows he’s big and there’s an alarming size difference between the both of you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your hands clench into fists and it feels like you’re being impaled onto Wonwoo’s cock, going deeper than any cock you ever taken before. Tears cling to your lashes as a small jolt of pain runs up your spine, the lube easing Wonwoo’s way in. Overall you’re proud of yourself, haven taken him before, more times than you can count, and you accommodate his cock like a pro.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Your chest heaves, no amount of air feels like enough as Wonwoo’s cock all but punches everything out of you. You’re biting at the pillow by the time the last of it pushes into you, a haze surrounding your mind because it feels so good.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s groan transforms into a moan once he’s buried all the way into you, hips flush against your ass and spreading you open so wide and so deep, you would think you might break if you didn’t know any better. You gasp, back arching downward as you take your time to adjust to the large intrusion.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo kisses your shoulder tenderly, waiting for you to grow used to the feeling. He can be rough when it comes to bed, but he always is mindful of you no matter how impatient and desperate he is. There’s this soft feeling going on inside you, mixing with your pleasure and it only serves to make you more needy.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo doesn’t move for a while, hot breath falling against your neck as he stands behind you. You feel surrounded — his scent everywhere, the pulse of the hickeys he carved on your skin, the press of his long fingers on your waist —, your submission for Wonwoo’s eyes only.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You nod at him.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

A lick at your neck is all the warning you get before Wonwoo pulls out so very slowly, cock dragging against your walls and rim. It feels like forever, you whining at the sensation, and then you’re being slammed back into.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Ah!” you gasp, eyes blurry as you struggle for air. You moan as Wonwoo drags himself back out again, and thrusts right back in and groans at the feeling. “Y-yes—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“So good,” Wonwoo growls, close to inhumane as he continues with that pace. “So fucking good.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Eventually, Wonwoo doesn’t seem to be able to go slow anymore, thrusts turning sharper and harder, his pace unrelenting. You find yourself almost screaming through it, so overwhelmed by the size of him — a good overwhelmed, the best overwhelmed —, but the way you feel so full and the exponential pleasure leaves you numb to any other thought.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo, your mind seems to chant, fucked open mercilessly by your boyfriend.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Taking cock like a pro, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Wonwoo says, stops for a second, adjusts his hips, and then slams back right into your sweet spot, like he knows where it is by heart. Your body lurches forward, bed slamming against the wall. Hands reaching to hold onto something, you scramble against the sheats until one of them fists it and the other holds the pillow for dear life. “You’re gonna wake the whole hall, screaming like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You have enough of a decency to feel ashamed about it, but it’s not like neither of you actually care. If anything, Wonwoo fucks you harder, hips jamming inside you until your throat hurts from all the noises you’re making.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Please, p-please— I wanna— I h-have to— Fuck, ah!” you’re not even sure about what you’re begging for, Wonwoo pulling your hips to meet his thrusts half way. You love this, feeling like a ragdoll, being thrown around and only able to take what he gives to you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Good little girl,” Wonwoo croons, his voice rough. Your skin glistens with sweat, the shimmering red light reflecting on it. “Looking so beautiful taking my cock.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You’re not sure what compels you after he says that but you reach down, hand smoothing down your abdomen because you feel like Wonwoo is spearing you open. But you go completely tense, squeezing Wonwoo so hard he stutters with a moan, because under your palm there is the outline of his cock protruding against your lower belly. The feeling makes you so overwhelmed that you can’t hold it in, whithe pleasure flooding you as you end up coming, eyes rolling to the back of your head and you’re crying all the way through it.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re coming?” Wonwoo deadpans, sounding surprised and angry at the same time. “Holy shit, you’re coming untouched and without my permission? What were you think—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Wonwoo’s complaint immediately dies down when you bring a trembling hand to grab his wrist and put his fingers in the cause of your orgasm. There’s a beat of silence, the both of you completely still, and then Wonwoo is growling the most animalistic growl you ever heard him do, the sheer intensity of it rocking all the way to your bones. He presses his hips so tightly into yours it has you sobbing.

�� ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, tone two octaves lower and sounding dangerous, doesn’t even have it in him to punish you. “Fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

It’s like the caged beast he keeps so carefully locked deep within himself started to surface. Wonwoo pushes your head down on the mattress, the other hand still on your belly. He pulls out until the tip and then slams back inside, as hard as he can, and you downright scream at the feeling, the oversensitiviness adding up to your pleasure.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

There’s another few seconds of silence, and then Wonwoo is fucking you brutally. His moans echo through the room, so completely desperate that it has you wailing, sobbing, crying desperate pleas for more.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Look at that,” Wonwoo says, hand pressing harder against the bulge in your stomach. “Pushed my big cock into you until your insides were forced to make room for it.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He grabs your arm and yanks you up, your back pressing against his chest and an arm circling around your waist. The other comes up to squeeze your left breast as you practically sit on his thighs. You moan at the feeling of his pierced nipple dragging against your skin every time he fucks up into you, your body only held in place because of the firm grip Wonwoo has on you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Sobbing, you feel like you’re losing yourself in the sensations, Wonwoo’s cock pounding into your cunt and his voice by your ear and the burn of his hips hitting your ass — by now it must be all red, the marks probably going to linger for some time. You can’t hold yourself together anymore, mouth open and drooling, tears clinging to your lashes, staccato moans falling from your lips that break on every thrust. You’re limp against Wonwoo, can’t even fuck back, letting him have his way with you.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Drooling all over yourself for my cock,” Wonwoo says, fucks in deep against your sweet spot and mouths at the side of your neck. “Because of me, right? Tell me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Y-you— yours, yours, please,” your head falls back on his shoulder, hand pressing tightly in the shape of his cock in your stomach, and at this point you don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I’ve broken you in, fuck.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And he did, really. He has broken you in, has you crying on his cock.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You belong to who?” Wonwoo pressed his hips flush on your ass, grinds hard enough for your body to be sent forward. A short few seconds so you can take a breath — or at least try to. “Hm? Who’s fucking you this good?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“W-Wonwoo, Wonwon, you, please,” you cry out as he starts to fuck you mercilessly again, the brutal pace punching moans out of you. “Ah, ah, ah, p-please, haaah, I’m y-yours— yours, b-belong to, hmmm, to you only, please!”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Yeah,” Wonwoo echoes, thrusts turning erratic and groans morphing into moans. “Mine.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I can’t — I’m g-gonna—”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Come for me.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

And it’s enough for you. Your muscles tense, toes curling as hot, white pleasure surges through your body and floods you until you fall limp on the bed, hips only up because Wonwoo is holding them tightly. You clench around his cock involuntarily, his groan muffled by your hair and he’s coming, Wonwoo’s cock twitching inside you as thick spurts of come fill you to the brim. They seem to be endless, his spunk filling you up until it’s dripping out and down your thighs.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You don’t remember much of what happens later. Your mind spins and then you fall into a most needed slumber.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

You wake up a bit disoriented, having no idea how much has passed since you fell asleep, but you realise you’re all cleaned up and dressed, head resting in Wonwoo’s — thankfully, for the sake of your precious pussy — clothed chest as he uses his cellphone. He smells clean too, hair still a little bit wet, and you smile thinking that the shower you both took before going to bed was useless.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“You’re up?” comes Wonwoo’s question when he feels your lips moving against him, placing his phone somewhere on the bed and circling his arms around you. You move your head, looking up at him with fondness.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, baby,” you breathe out, reaching to peck him in the lips once. He smiles, that kind of smile that leaves you breathless with love.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Hey, my love,” Wonwoo laughs when you blush at the pet name. It’s so sweet and endearing, you always feel warm whenever he says it. “I see you still get all red when I call you that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up,” you swat at his arm, Wonwoo’s following laugh sounding like the best music you ever heard. “How much did I sleep?”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Not much,” he presses you tighter against him. “I think one hour? Something like that.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Thanks for taking care of me,” you say, legs tangling with his and the smile never leaving your lips.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Of course, my love. Always will take care of you,” Wonwoo nuzzles your hair and inhales. “Got kind of surprised that I managed to fuck you into unconsciousness.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Wonwoo,” you mortify with a laugh, hitting his chest, but he only giggles at you. He giggles. Your heart might explode soon.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“What? Can’t I be happy that I pleasured my tiny girlfriend the way she deserves to?” Wonwoo says, and it sounds like a joke, but when you look up at him again to make a retort, the reverence in his eyes surrenders you speechless.⠀

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

He stares at you with so much admiration and love, like you’re the most beautiful thing ever.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“I love you,” you say instead, cheeks hurting from the way you’re smiling, and Wonwoo seems to be caught off guard because he’s blushing. Wonwoo’s blushing. He’s so cute you want to die.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

“Shut up and go back to sleep,” he coughs, pushing your head against his chest and you laugh at this shyness. “I love you too.”

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

Yes. The warmness of his hands, the beat of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the love in his eyes, the sweetness of his words — you missed everything about Jeon Wonwoo.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

[mxchellesworld]

punk rock princess

spencer reid x reader

synopsis; where spencer’s working on the final paper for his third phd meanwhile you take on the task of making sure he takes a break.

warnings; smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, sub!spence if you squint, nipple piercings;),

a/n; i’m not saying this is my fantasy but .. this is my fantasy,, inspired by this song, y’all know the drill. you don't have to listen while reading but i always love to set the vibe. lastly y/n doesn't have any mentioned features or looks besides piercings/tattoos,, the rest is all up to you:)

pls send in feedback!

***

A shiver crawled down your spine from the first squirt of dye hitting your scalp. The bubblegum pink shade being a change from the firey red which inhabited your head a mere 24 hours prior.

The process was muscle memory at this point. Brushing out your hair then parting and sectioning it off. However that was the only methodical part. The fun was in slapping on the dye, not a single worry about staining your hands or neck.

The sounds of heavy drums and bass guitar bounced off the walls in the bathroom of the small apartment. Even though the door was shut it wasn't enough to stop the sound from flowing into the living room where your boyfriend was working.

Spencer sat at the dining table, flipping through copious amounts of folders and books. His third thesis in the process of being written. The computer screen in front of him looking back with a mocking glow. Since apparently things had to be digital now.

Your feet padding on the wooden floor made him look up from the pages. Humming to the music as you walked into your bedroom. Then back out a few seconds later holding a towel and robe.

A small smile tugged across his face. Ever since you had moved in together he loved to watch your day to day actions. The way you played your music concerningly loud, your skincare routine which included cleaning your facial piercings. What fascinated him the most was that in the 13 months you’d been together he’d seen you dye your hair 7 times.

Not including any touch ups.

He stood from his place at the table, making his way to the bathroom. Two quick rasps on the door to check if you were decent. The action made you giggle.

“Come in!” you called, “I don’t know why you knock weirdo you’ve seen me naked plenty of times.”

A blush spread across his cheeks from both your words and your state of undress. His eyes tried to focus on the splotches of color on the counter, keeping the blood flowing to the head on his shoulders.

But it was hard when the sheer bralette you had on did very little to hide the metal bars in each of your breasts.

“Spence?” you said snapping a fingers in front of him.

He cleared his throat, eyes snapping to your face which held a smirk.

“Are uh those n-new?” he questioned, hand going to scratch the nape of his neck.

The usual silver balls at the end of the bars were now tiny jewell hearts. The color was a little hard to tell due to the material of your bra but from the change in your hair he could almost bet money they were also pink.

With swift hands you unclipped your bra and threw it on the closed toilet seat before turning to face him.

“Got them when I bought the dye yesterday,” you said pushing your boobs up with your hands, “You like?”

Spencer’s eyes were as big as saucers, frantically nodding, “Y-yeah they look nice.”

You dropped your hands to your hips, tugging off the shorts you had on. The wide brown eyes before you couldn’t get any bigger, trailing down your frame stopping to admire the bar in your belly button along with the ink which littered your ribs.

He watched as you got to your knees, turning on the bath faucet. You dipped your head under the water, a stream of pink filling the tub.

The slope of your spine bent over was a sight he'd seen more than enough times. He could pinpoint the beauty marks on your left shoulder, the small sun he sketched which ended up permanently on the back of your neck. But if he let his gaze drift a little further south he could see how deliciously the dark lace looked barley covering up your most intimate parts.

A smack to his calf got his attention.

“Earth to Spencer! Can you hand me the shampoo,” you asked which came out sounding a bit muffled.

He quickly scurried to the tub and reached over to grab the bottle, squeezing a bit of gel onto your open palm.

"I'm gonna go work on my thesis some more," Spencer said slowly shutting the door behind him.

Making his way back to the living room, he pulled a few files and sat down on the couch. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose and red pen between his teeth and he stared in concentration.

They were the same words he had read over and over again. The lack of sleep causing a dull ache in his skull.

"You need to take a break love," you said walking over and sitting next to Spencer on the couch.

"I did take one," he argued back flipping through the file.

"Gawking at me before I shower for 2 minutes isn't a break," you said with a giggle, the warmth flooding back to his cheeks, "Cmon 25 minutes at least without a file in your hand. "

When he didn't respond you took matters into your own hands. Ripping the file from his grasp, earning a grumble of disapproval before you straddled his hips. Your arms circled his neck and your hands went straight to the back of his scalp, fingertips running in soothing motions.

"Isn't this so much better baby," you asked whispering in his ear.

He nodded quickly, staying silent as he let his actions speak louder. His large palms went right to your plush hips. Bucking up as he led you to grind yourself on his lap.

Letting his hands explore the material of your satin rope he could feel the lack of undergarments on your frame. Spencer dared to let his hands dip under the black fabric and take each one of your cheeks in the palm of your hand with a gentle squeeze.

You could feel his cock stiffening under you. If you looked down you'd probably be able to see a wet spot on his sweats, most likely a mix of your arousals.

Leaning forward you let your lips attack his neck, placing sloppy kisses sure to leave marks. The process of licking and biting making Spencer hold onto you tighter, almost as if he had his very own vampire to mark him up.

Trailing up to his ear you bit on the lobe before whispering, "Tell me what you need baby."

Lust filled brown orbs met your own as you each continued your steady grind.

"Please fuck me," he pleaded.

If only he knew how wrapped around his finger you were. As pretty as he sounded begging you'd give him anything.

You pulled the metal frames off his face, tossing them to the other side of the couch. He had complained one too many times about foggy glasses during sex. No matter how cute you thought he looked.

Your hands slid down his torso and reached to pull down his sweats. His precum soaked length was heavy in your hands. Pretty pink tip leaky and throbbing already. The first few pumps had whiny moans slipping from his lips, red from biting so hard.

"Unwrap me baby, it's all for you," you said tilting your head down, motioning to the strings holding your robe together.

Quickly he let his slender fingers go to the ends, a swift tug and it was like opening a gift on Christmas. Leaning forward he let his lips wrap around one of your nipples. A strangled moan leaving your mouth from the stimulation.

With a raise of your hips you lined his cock with your opening before sliding down. You both sighed at the same time, the feeling of him stretching you out and your warm walls hugging his length was just too good.

Slowly you rocked your hips testing the waters, soft gasps and curses left your lips. You could feel very vein and inch stuffed inside you.

Spencer on the other hand was having an out of body experience, there wasn't an inch of your skin which was left untouched. Unkissed. After you were settled he raised his hips meeting you halfway with each thrust.

"You're doing so well baby," you cooed down at him, "You love when I ride you hm? Best fucking seat in the house."

His eyes shut closed in pleasure as your pace quickened, "Love it so much. So so pretty," he mumbled out.

His arms pulled you close again. Chest to chest as you continued your movements. Your lips met in a lazy kiss, panting in each others mouths when you ran out of air.

You could feel him pulsating inside you. The iron grip he had on your hips as he helped drive you up and down on his cock was sure to feel sore the next day. His shoulders were sure to have corresponding crescent marks from your nails digging in.

"Touch me Spence m'so close love," you said breathlessly.

One of his hands fell down to the space where you both connected. Skilled fingers rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves in quick circular motions.

Loud moans escaped your lips. Your head fell back to the familiar junction of his neck and shoulder, biting the skin in order to stifle your noises of pleasure.

"Y/n I can't hold it any longer, please cum with me," he whimpered out.

Nodding your head you grabbed onto the back of his neck, "Right behind you baby. Let go for me, I got you."

With a few more upward thrusts you felt him pull you down onto his cock, warmth spreading in your tummy. The feeling of his seed filling you up and his euphoric groans sent you over the edge.

You both rode out your orgasms, swiveling hips and satisfactory sighs of release leaving your lips.

After a few minutes of content silence listening to the music still flowing through the hall you moved to get up, the sticky mess between your thighs less than comfortable.

Warm arms kept you in place, denying your movement.

"Spence I gotta clean up," you said trying to push yourself off his chest.

"If I remember correctly you said at least 25 minutes and from my calculations I have 3 minutes and 38 seconds left of cuddle time," the lanky man under you said matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes, sighing but resting your head back on his shoulder, "If I get a UTI thats 3 minutes and 38 seconds of me playing screamo in your ear at full volume."

With one last squeeze he kissed the side of your head, the scent of ammonia only sightly bothering him, "Worth it."

[just-jordie-things]

The Crown - Steve Harrington

word count: 4462 warnings: dedicated to @high-functioning-fangirl02 <3

You’d give your life to protect these kids.  

These kids you’ve known since you started babysitting them in the sixth grade.  Back when Mrs Henderson hired you to watch Dustin.  Which essentially meant that you’d watch all of them.  But that was alright, over the past seven years of being their designated babysitter, you’d grown to love them all.

Mike Wheeler, the snarky little love-struck shit that you spent grieving with since losing Eleven.  Lucas Sinclair, the sweet boy with the occasional attitude whom you helped construct his Ghostbusters costume. Will Byers, the full time sweetheart that made you cookies for Valentine’s Day after hearing you complain about being dateless.  And of course Dustin, cute little button nosed Dusty with a trash mouthing tendency, whom looked up to you like a role model.

Hell, you were their role model.  Driving them to and from school, covering for them on late nights so they could finish their D&D tournaments.  Fiercely protecting them a year ago when Hawkins was Demogorgon infested.  Standing up for them when you’d see some upperclassmen picking on them.

Those who dared glance the wrong way towards The Party in your presence, were rumored to run home crying with a bleeding nose and terrified shriek.  You never put down the rumors… because maybe it had happened once or twice…

Over time The Party was no longer just a band of middle schoolers.  It had opened up to their babysitter, being you, a senior girl who had not many other friends.  Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, which the boys always claimed was strictly because of family relations.  Not because Dustin was still harbouring a crush for Mike’s older sister.  The town Sheriff, Jim Hopper, who’d proved himself not to be an asshole, and turned out an alright guy.  Joyce Byers, whom you loved like a mother and whom treated you like her own daughter.  You’d frequently been titled ‘the daughter she wished to have had’ which always raised a snarky response from her sons.  Maxine (just Max.  Never Maxine) Hargrove, a high spirited and not your typical girl that you grew fond of easily.  Especially since she was nothing like her big brother.

And then there was Steve Harrington.  Who… really just was at the wrong place at the wrong time and ended up getting roped into the mess that Hawkins Lab had created.  King Steve, as you’d known him before you’d officially met last year by fluke accident, was always the popular boy that had a pretty girl hanging off his arm.  You weren’t sure why that changed so quickly, why he didn’t put himself out there as much as he used to, didn’t party hard anymore, wasn’t bragging about the new girl he was with that week like he was known for.  Maybe that day, when he walked into the Wheeler’s house right as you Nancy and Jonathan were awaiting the Demogorgon’s arrival, maybe he changed then.

Or maybe it was after he’d been sucked into… whatever this all was… and he changed to keep the secret.  Or maybe it was after Nancy had broken up with him, around the same time he started growing closer to Dustin.

But right now as you watched him directing the kids, you were more aware that he wasn’t King Steve anymore, that you had been before.  Sure, you’d realized somewhere along the way he was different.  But it wasn’t until now that you noticed it completely as it was.

“No listen you little shits, no one, is going anywhere” Steve ordered, holding a wash rag in his hand and pointing it between each of the boys, and girl, that stood in front of him.

“Friggin’ pointless just staying here” Dustin grumbled, walking out of the room whilst still muttering.  Mike groaned loudly, dramatically, and left to the living room with Max and Lucas.  You knew that he was still plotting you get out there tonight.  Consequences and dangers be damned.

You looked to Steve with a sigh, a lazy smile on your lips as you walked past him to go after Dustin.  He watched you go, letting out a breath as well as he put his hands on his hips and standing alone in the hall with his thoughts.

He’d give his life to protect these kids.

“Dusty?” You called gently as you walked into the kitchen, seeing Dustin sitting on the floor against the dishwasher.  Your brows furrowed as you sat across from him by the cabinets.  “You alright kiddo?”

“Would I be sitting in here brooding if I was?” He quipped, though you knew he meant well.

“Sweetheart you’re too adorable to be a brooder” You laughed softly, pulling your knees up slightly.  “A pouter maybe, but not a brooder”

“Thanks y/n” He responded dryly.  You rolled your eyes in response to his sarcasm.

“Come on kid, open up a little.  It’s me” Your words were soft, which did prompt Dustin to consider explaining to you his thoughts.  “Please? If we make it out of this alive I’ll take you to the arcade.  I’ve got a big jar full of quarters I’ve saved up-”

“Okay okay I’ll take the bribe” Dustin caved with a laugh that made your mood lighten.  ���Look it’s gonna sound lame and cheesy but… everyone else is helping.  Jonathan and Nance and Mrs Byers and Hopper and Elle, but what am I doing?”

“You’re staying safe” Your answer came out instantly, but it didn’t seem to be the one the boy was looking for.

“No I’m not, I’m sitting on the sidelines, watching everyone else go be heroes and getting hurt.  I’m not doing a damn thing!”

“Hey” You hummed softly, and scooted over closer to put your head on his shoulder.  “You’re a hero Dustin.  Don’t tell yourself any differently.  All of you are, Mike too, and Lucas, and Max, and-”

“Steve?” Dustin offered, and you nodded, looking at him confusedly by the strange tone of voice he used.

“Of course, why’re you looking at me like that?”

“No reason” Dustin shrugged nonchalantly, brushing off the uncomfortable air between you both.

“Alright well, you should believe me” You continued.  “Even if you don’t think so, you’re all my heroes, got it Henderson?” The boy smiled and nodded, prompting you to push the cap of his hat down playfully before he could get up and leave the room.

“Mike’s probably still planning his attack” He told you, but you shrugged and waved a hand.

“Let him plot and brood” You said, and Dustin’s mouth fell open.

“How come Mike can brood but I can’t?” You rolled your eyes, still waving your hand for him to get out of here.

“Just go plot with him, I know you’re itching to” You said, and he grinned wide at you, glad you were letting him go plan their escape and attack.

“Thanks y/n!” He called, already racing out of the room.  “You’re the best!” You laughed, shaking your head as you stood back up and dusted off the pants of your overalls.  Steve came in a few moments later, watching you almost suspiciously.

“What?” You questioned, and he shrugged, shaking his head.

“Nothing.  Just wondering why you’re permitting them to conspire against us” He said.

“They’re not conspiring, they’re just discussing.  No harm in that”

“Um, every harm in that.  As in all of us, being harmed, because of that” He said, but you didn’t really seem to care what he thought about it.

“They’re fine, we’re all fine, don’t freak out so much mom” You said, walking out towards the kids and seeing them all circled up and discussing their big plan.

“I’m not a mom” Steve argued, and you chuckled, turning to see him, his dish rag on his shoulder, hands on hips.  It only made you laugh more.

“Mhm, alright.  Well then what would you call yourself?” You replied sarcastically, nodding towards his own stance, and making Steve second guess himself.

“This- you-! Alright whatever just stay away from the windows and go be safe somewhere” He muttered, walking into the living room where the kids were.  You rolled your eyes again, but couldn’t help the smile on your lips.

Perhaps, you thought, King Steve was the king of something else now.

You watched as he was waving his rag at the kids again, yelling at them for plotting behind his back, and reminding them that no one was going anywhere.  But even as Dustin pouted, Steve was rubbing his hand over the thirteen year old’s head.  Almost soothingly, like he felt bad for ending their little meeting.

“What a mom” You mumbled, and headed back into the kitchen for something to eat.

You used to resent Steve, back when he was the king of school and didn’t care about anything more than he cared about his popularity and his hair.  Back when he didn’t give a shit about pretty much anything.  And looking at him now and seeing him watch over these kids, you could physically feel your heart swelling.  If that isn’t character development, you weren’t sure what was.

You weren’t sure why it made you feel so bubbly either.

“Listen runts, we’re staying here, we’re staying safe, and we’re not dying!” Steve said, for what felt like the fifth time.  But Mike kept arguing back at him.

“Everyone else is out there!”

“Everyone else knows how to fight all that shit!” Steve retorted.  “We are staying, here” He repeated slowly, waving his rag between each word.  “You got that?”

“You’re just saying that cause y/n’s here.  If she wasn’t here, we’d all be getting in your car and going!” Lucas spoke up.  Your brows furrowed at that.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked, ignoring your search for food and now strutting into the room where everyone else was.  “Am I dragging you down?” You asked, almost sarcastic, but wondering what he’d actually meant by his announcement.  Were you dragging them down?

“No, Steve would just protect your ass over our asses” Max shrugged, and the others nodded.

“What the hell? Everyone here is protecting their own asses, I’m not getting killed for a bunch of kids!” Steve said, making flustered and jerky movements.  You brushed off their newly sprung argument over where Steve’s bat is swinging and who it’s swinging for.

Apparently, The Party was certain that he’d die for you, rather die for them.  But you didn’t care much about what they thought.  They’d always thought that you and Steve were meant to be some power couple, but you supposed it was just cause you were the same age and the kids only ever saw you two together.  There was no real evidence (as far as they showed) towards the ‘chemistry’ you and Steve supposedly had.

You wandered to the window, curiously looking out it with your arms wrapped around yourself.

“Will you just shut up?” Mike’s yelling made you jump a little, and you turned to see your friends all still arguing with each other.  You smiled slightly, meeting Steve’s eyes as he gave you a bored look.  You just laughed a little bit back at him.  Steve’s expression softened into a small smile.  Your face flushed with heat, and you nervously turned away from him to look back out the window again.

A light blinded you almost instantly, making you squint your eyes and put a hand over them to try and clear your vision.

“What the hell?” You muttered, leaning closer to the glass to see what was going on.  Headlights, there was a car here.  Someone was here.  “Steve?” You called, not turning away from the window.  He came over right away, looking outside to see a familiar Camaro parked in the driveway.

“Shit” He grumbled, walking towards the front door.

“What- where are you going? Who is it?” You asked, following quickly after him, but Steve quickly turned to make you stay back.

“Just stay in here-”

“Sinclair!” A voice hollered from outside, and you jumped, eyes widening as you recognized it.  “I know you’re in there!”

“Billy?” You whispered to Steve, who nodded.  You stepped backwards, eyes never leaving Steve’s.  “What’s he doing here?” Your voice was quiet.

Billy Hargrove, was the most vile, horrible person you’d ever met.  And his wicked ways of bending people to his will, shook you intensely to your core.  It was no secret to the others that Billy not only terrified you, but would seductively torture you every day.  Sure, you’d been picked on before, but this was different.  Every day he’d come to you, hoping to get something out of you, just to mess with you.

“Come on babe, a little kiss, just a little one, we can discuss the rest later”

“You don’t want to get a ride home with me and have some fun?”

“When’re you finally gonna give this up and just put out?”

You shuddered slightly, practically feeling his hot breath against your skin just thinking about the things he’s said to you.  Stopping you in the hallways, finding you at your locker, approaching you while you waited at Steve’s car for a ride home.

“I know you’re in there you little pig! Come out here or I’ll have to go in!” His voice was dangerous, threatening.  And you felt a legitimate fear for your life, and the kids’.

“It’s fine, you’re fine, I promise” Steve said quietly, out of earshot of the others.  “All of you stay here, stay away from the windows” He ordered, giving you one last look before you turned and went to The Party.  They needed you right now, all huddled around Lucas and Max to make sure if Billy were to look inside, he wouldn’t see them.

“Come on guys” You said softly, ushering them as far away from the window as you could.  Steve, on the other hand, opened the door and stepped outside.

Instead of hiding in a room, completely out of sight of the maniac, you all ducked under the windowsill to see what was happening.

“Am I dreaming or is that really you Harrington?” You felt your entire body quivering upon hearing Billy’s voice.  Dustin, who was crouched next to you, turned and gave you a worried look, but your eyes were dead set on the outside.

“Yeah it’s me, don’t cream your pants” Steve responded, walking out towards him as he pulled off his leather jacket.

“What’re you doing here amigo?” Billy asked, the cigarette hanging off his lips moving as he spoke.

“I could ask you the same thing” Steve responded, void of emotion.  “Amigo”

“Lookin’ for my step sister.  Little birdie told me she was here”

“Huh, that’s weird I don’t know her” Steve lied easily, and convincingly.  You prayed to God that Billy believed him.

“Small? Redhead?” Billy replied disbelievingly.  “Bit of a bitch?”

“Ashole” Max muttered to herself inside.

“Doesn’t ring a bell, sorry buddy” Steve replied, still not sounding like he cared even an inkling.  Billy nodded, taking out his cigarette.

“You know… I don’t how this, this whole situation Harrington is um.., it’s giving me the heebie jeebies” Billy said, looking at Steve a little more threateningly.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“My thirteen year old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you” Billy pointed accusatory hands towards Steve, giving him a disgusted look.  “In a strangers house” He continued.  “And you lie to me about it” Steve chuckled bitterly, shaking his head and looking away for a moment.

“Yeah, maybe you were dropped too much as a child or what” Steve said snarkily.  But Billy just grinned his twisted grin and licked his tongue over the front of his teeth.  “I don’t know what you don’t understand about what I just said”

You felt a chill go down your spine as Steve’s protectiveness took over his tone.  Dustin beside you mumbling a quiet, “Holy shit”

“She’s not here” Steve said carefully.  Billy nodded, looking pointedly towards the window where you and The Party were all huddled and looking out of.

“Then who’s that?” He asked, pointing his cigarette towards his sister.

“Down!” You hissed, and the five of you dropped to the floor so fast you all groaned from the impact of the floor.

“Shit!” Dustin cursed.  “Did he see us?”

“Oh shit” Steve grumbled.  “Okay listen-” Billy pushed him to the ground before he could explain anything.  The boy kicked him, before storming up into the house.

“Well well well” Billy smirked, seeing you and The Party standing there together, you in front of all of them.  “y/n l/n, what a lovely little surprise” You grimaced, but he didn’t seem to care.  “And Lucas Sinclair, not so much a surprise at all” You moved over more in front of Lucas, who’s hands grabbed onto your arm out of fear.  “I thought I told you to stay away from him Max”

“Billy, go away” Max retorted, but her voice wavered.

“You disobeyed me” Billy leaned over his step sister tauntingly.  “And you know what happens when you disobey me” He added in a hushed, volatile voice.

“Billy-”

“I break things” He uttered, before pushing you aside, crashing your body into the wall.  Before slamming Lucas up against the cupboards.

“Billy stop!” Max and the others began to yell, Dustin rushing over to help you up, but you were already standing up on your own.

“Get off of me!” Lucas cried.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will” Billy muttered.  “You stay away from her.  Stay-! Away from her” He yelled awkwardly.  “Do you hear me?”

“I said get off me!” Lucas screamed again, followed by a knee between Billy’s legs.  You gasped, feeling a moment of pride as Billy stumbled back and released him.

“You are so dead Sinclair!” Billy hollered.  “You’re dead-”

“No” Steve grabbed Billy by the shoulder, spinning him around roughly.  “You are” And with that he swung his fist and planted it hard enough against Billy’s jaw to make him topple over.

“Steve!” You yelped out of surprise.  He looked at you for a moment, nodding in reassurance as he shook out his hand.  It’d been a while since he’d hit anybody.  Billy stood back up, laughing menacingly.  “You’re a fucking psycho!” You screeched before you could stop yourself.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh!?” He yelled at Steve.  “I’ve been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about” He stepped closer to Steve, glaring at him.

“Get out” Steve muttered, pushing Billy’s chest lightly to move him away from him.  Billy stepped back and stood there for a moment.  And after a few seconds passed you were certain that he was going to stay back.

Until he swung swiftly at Steve, but missed as Steve ducked just in time.  You gasped, clapping your hands over your mouth in terror.  Steve stood back up and swung his fist again, hitting Billy and making him stumble again.

“Yes! Get him Steve!” Dustin cheered, and the others began to as well.  You couldn’t find yourself to say anything, just wince every time a punch was made.  Steve hit him two more times, and Billy ran into the kitchen sink.  Leaning back and wincing in pain.

“Kill him! Kill him!” Mike was yelling.  But Billy grabbed a plate of the counter, smashing it over Steve’s head, and making him fall to the ground.

“Steve!” You screamed now, taking long strides to get over to him, only to be pushed away by Billy.  Who hit Steve as soon as he stood up again.  He grabbed Steve by the shoulders, staring him down.

“No one.  Tells me what to do” He muttered angrily, and threw his head forward hard into Steve’s knocking him down again.

“Fucking hell” You mumbled, tears beginning to prick your eyes in fear that Billy was actually going to kill Steve.  The mullet wearing psycho leapt onto Steve, pinning him down and swinging punch after punch against his face.

“Stop it!” Mike yelled at the top of his lungs, but it did nothing to end Billy’s attack.

“Steve!” Dustin hollered.

You stood frozen, every scene in front of you soundless, and moving slowly.  You could only feel your heart in your chest, sending you into an anxiety attack, you were sure.  But it barely mattered to you in that moment.  You turned away, and your eyes landed on something.

The syringe used on Will earlier.

Sleep… put him to sleep… your thoughts were broken as you reached for it, looking at it in your hands for a few seconds, before stepping forward and slamming the needle into Billy’s neck without a hesitation.  Mike and Dustin gasped, standing back.  Everyone’s eyes stuck on the syringe hanging out of BIlly’s neck now.  A disgust filling them up at the sight.

“Shit y/n” Dustin mumbled, his hand covering his mouth to stop vomit from flowing.

Billy stood up, wobbling slightly as he turned to look at you.  He pulled the needle out of his neck, vision beginning to fail.  “The hell is this?” He asked, trying to step towards you threateningly, but he was wobbling so much you didn’t even move.  No longer afraid of him.

“You’re fucking done Hargrove” You muttered, and before thinking twice to second guess yourself, punching him across the jaw, and sending him back on his ass.  Billy groaned, staying down where he’d fallen against the couch.

“Shit what did you do” He mumbled, growing dizzy from the mix of drug and pain.

A few moments later he completely passed out.

“Fuck” You hissed in pain, putting your bruising knuckles against your mouth.  You didn’t think punching someone would hurt so damn much.

“y/n holy shit”

“Are you okay?”

“That was badass!”

The Party was fussing and cheering for you, but you didn’t respond, kneeling down by Steve next and counting up all the cuts and bruises he was beginning to sport.  He was unconscious, that was for sure.  But he’d be in for a world of hurt when he woke up.

“Come on, help me get him back to Jon’s bed” You called to the kids.

It was difficult moving him, but after ten minutes you’d managed to get him into Jonathan’s room to lie on the bed there.  You were sat next to him, a cold wet rag in your hand, and the open first aid kit on the ground.  It took you awhile to clean off all the blood and apply bandages where you thought they were necessary.  There was a frozen bag of peas you’d put over one of his eyes to stop the swelling, but so far it still looked pretty bad.

The Party had sat with you for what felt like a long time before you told them to go back to the living room and wait for the others to return home.  Dustin put up a small fight about it, but eventually gave in and listened to your order.  And now it was just you kneeling on the ground by Steve, watching over him carefully.  Making sure he was breathing okay, and that nothing would begin to bleed again.

“Well King Steve, you got quite the ass kicking” You mumbled, just to yourself.  Your fingers placed a few stray hairs on his forehead back into place.  “But your crown is still there” You smiled to yourself, fingertips gently brushing his hair.

“y/n?” Your eyes looked back at him as he mumbled, almost incoherently.  “What happened?” The poor boy’s eyes weren’t even open.

“You put up a really good fight” You told him softly.  He winced, the pain probably beginning to settle in.

“Did I win?” He groaned, eyes clenching shut momentarily.  You bit down on your lip and shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“You put up a really good fight” You repeated yourself, playing with his hair again.  Steve sighed, knowing the answer.

“Is he gone?” He asked, eyes finally beginning to flutter open.

“Yeah… yeah he won’t be back any time soon, I’m sure” You answered.  Steve looked up at you, smiling down gently at him.  He smiled back instantly, and moved his arm to push your hair back, but even at it’s slight movement you winced in pain.  “You’re in pretty bad shape” You told him quietly.  “But you’ll heal up alright”

“Are you okay?” He asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine” You shrugged slightly.  “We’re all really worried about you.  Dustin thought you were dead” Steve chuckled painfully, shaking his head a little bit.

“Are they alright? Max and Lucas?”

“Yeah, we’re all good Steve” You hummed with a slight nod.  You leaned forward, a little closer to him to check on the eye swelled under the bag of peas.  You frowned, seeing the black and blue bruise that only seemed to be spreading.

“I’m alright, don’t fuss so much” Steve said, putting his hand over the bag and pushing it back against his face.  Your eyes met his for a moment.

“You’re pretty bruised up Harrington” You sighed, taking the wet rag in your hand and dabbing it gently on his bruised cheek.  “There’s not an inch of your face spared”

“It’ll be fine, I’ll heal up”

“Years from now, maybe” You replied sarcastically, and he smiled at you while you carefully pressed the cold cloth to his face.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He murmured, and you looked at him for the briefest of seconds before going back to work.  Now is not the time to talk about feelings, you thought to yourself.

“Yeah? Go play hero some more and you’ll never see anything again” You told him, and he shrugged slightly, not having a response to that.

“I just wanted to remind you.  In case you haven’t been told in a while” He said.  You bit on the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling too much.  You looked down at him, your eyes softening slightly.

You leaned over closer to him, pausing for a moment before pressing your lips lightly against his.  It was a chaste kiss, only lasting a few seconds as you didn’t want to hurt him anymore than he already was.  When you pulled back, you smiled nervously at him, and he only smiled back at you.

“You’re lucky you didn’t die Harrington” You said, and got right back to work on pressing the rag to his wounds.

“That I am” He replied cheekily.

You giggled softly, smiling down at him and wondering just when he’d changed so much.

You knew he’d give his life for these kids too, just like you would.

love me some babysitter steve

xoxo ~ jordie

[ptergwen]

jingle your bells

w/c: 1.7k

warnings: mentions of drinking and a suggestive joke

summary: peter gets drunk at tony’s christmas party and confesses a thing or two

a/n: today’s the day yayyy merry christmas guys i hope you’ve gotten and gave some good stuff!! i hope you’re all staying safe too <3 this was requested as a headcanon but i put a twist on it because why not

━━━ ➳❥

your dad loves parties. hosting them, attending them, crashing them. he’s actually known for it.

this year, he’s throwing a little party for christmas. everyone at the compound is coming, but there’s someone you care about more than the rest. peter. he’s one of your favorite people and closest friends.

your crush, too.

these things can be a bit overwhelming, so the two of you always stick together. you’ll sometimes sneak upstairs to your room and binge movies with pajamas and all kinds of junk food. it’s your own party in a way. you two enjoy the time you don’t spend at the real ones more than anything.

thor and bruce are currently doing their own rendition of all i want for christmas. your dad made the mistake of setting up karaoke. you laugh along, natasha dragging them in every way possible. steve snaps to the beat. wanda is covering her face in second hand embarrassment. vision offers tips that he searched every possible database for.

sam and bucky took peter somewhere a while ago. that can never be good. he’ll probably come back covered in whipped cream or something stupid. those two never leave peter alone. it’s kind of sweet when you think about it.

“thank you! thank you very much, children,” thor grins as everyone applauds the performance. bruce takes a bow. “we’ll be here all night.” you shake your head at the two of them. they’re too funny. natasha shares a look with you. “boo, get off the stage!” bucky calls as he enters the room. sam and peter follow behind him.

peter is smiling like an idiot, not that his smile isn’t adorable. it just seems a bit off. you really have to find out what they did to him.

“uh, this is my stage,” thor scoffs and grabs the microphone off the stand. grimacing, bruce puts a hand on his shoulder. “let’s calm down, buddy.” “no, i think we should do another one. santa baby.” he points to natasha. “hit play for us, thanks.” she sighs and puts the song on through the speakers. you can’t win with thor.

you watch sam whisper something to peter, then bucky cackles. tony and pepper make their way in and sit down next to you on the couch.

“what’s going on in here?” pepper asks you, nudging your arm. you’re more concerned with what’s going on with peter. “a sing off. it was karaoke, but bucky riled thor up.” your dad clicks his tongue. “that absolute madman.”

“he’s not the only madman tonight,” your mom comments, widening her eyes at the sight in front of her. you furrow your eyebrows and follow her gaze. your mouth drops open.

peter is dancing around in front of them. he’s trying to hip bump bruce, who keeps inching closer to thor. sam and bucky are doubled over from the other side of the room. they ruined your poor peter.

thor chuckles and pats peter on the back. he happily accepts it very much like a puppy would. he’s wearing a headband with jingle bells on it and there’s a weird stain on his shirt.

“little spider has been drinking,” thor announces, peter’s cheeks glowing red. that makes sense. you immediately glare at sam and bucky. they raise their hands in defense. they’re still on the hook.

“god, i can smell him from here,” natasha agrees and waves her hand in the air. “they‘d be able to smell him from sokovia,” wanda mutters. “parker? are you shit-faced right now?” your dad speaks up, a look between concern and anger on his face. his giggling gives him away.

“it’s christmas. you’re drunk out of your mind on christmas. i can’t have that.” tony points upstairs, signaling for him to go. you’re pretty sure peter didn’t process a word of that. pepper rubs up and down tony’s arm with a frown. “oh, tony. don’t be a grinch.” he sighs and watches peter try to climb into steve’s lap.

“he needs to sleep this off, pep. kid hasn’t had a drop of alcohol before tonight.” it’s true. he’s big on not drinking until he’s old enough. you have to wonder what changed. “i’ll bring him to his room, dad. he shouldn’t go alone,” you offer, already getting to your feet. “thanks, y/n/n. look at you, making good choices.”

you walk up to steve and give him an apologetic smile. relief washes over his face. “he’s all yours,” he laughs out. “all yours,” peter repeats in a giggle. “mhm. let’s go, peter.” you take him by his arm and pull him away from steve.

he’s easy to drag along because of the state he’s in. he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, your arm around his waist.

“you smell so good, y/n. sooo nice,” peter almost sings, sniffing you for good measure. “you don’t,” you deadpan. the two of you pass by sam and bucky on your way out. “you’re actually messed up for this,” you tell them under your breath, bucky gasping. “hey, miss stark. it was his idea!” sam yells out to you. you’re not in the mood to hear it.

peter cuddles into your side while you lead him up the stairs. his breath is hot on you and wreaks of expensive liquor from your dad’s cabinet. you never imagined you’d see him like this.

he’s still clinging onto you, so you open his door by pressing your back to it. “come on, pete. you have to lay down,” you tell him as nicely as you can. he stops walking in the middle of the room. “wait. lemme show you something.” he wiggles his eyebrows and shakes his head around. it makes the jingle bells on his head... jingle.

“did you like it?” peter asks and leans his head down to do it again. stifling a laugh, you grab his shoulders. “yeah, peter. i liked it. you can stop jingling your bells now.” “you should... should jingle my bells,” he slurs, smirking at you. you quickly take your hands off of him. “oh my god, you’re so drunk.”

he’s doing all the things you wish he would when he’s sober.

“are you mad at me?” peter pouts his lip out. “don’t be mad at me, y/n.” you press your own lips together and take a seat on his bed. he plops down next to you, pushing his head against your shoulder. “no, but i am mad at sam and bucky. i can’t believe they’d do this.” his face twists up in confusion. “and on christmas.”

“do what?” he wonders and settles his head on you. “let you drink?” you ask like it should be obvious. it should be. “no, no, no. they were helping me.” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. that gives him the idea to blow into your ear. you flinch and push at his shoulder.

“peter, they gave you alcohol. it’s clearly not good for you.” “no, y/n.” he closes his eyes and lays his head on your shoulder again. “i got my own. they-“ he’s interrupted by a hiccup. you can’t help but laugh, pulling him closer. “‘scuse me. they helped me with something else.”

drunk peter is kind of cute. super cute, to be real.

“what was it?” you decide to entertain him, figuring he’ll say something ridiculous. “asking you out,” peter answers way too casually. you almost don’t believe him. then again, he’s pretty self aware at the moment. it’s probably because his powers give him a higher tolerance.

peter feels your heart speeding up next to him. he presses his head to it so he can hear. “you- are you serious?” you stammer, willing him to look up at you. “uh huh. i like you a lot.” a lazy smile takes over his face. “a lot a lot.” “peter...” he’s still going.

“i asked them for advice. it sucked. we were in the kitchen and i remembered your dad’s...” he pauses to think of the word. “stash. i thought drinking would make me loose.” he moves his body around for a visual.

you’re still shocked sam and bucky let him go through with it. it does sound like them, though. you’re more shocked peter likes you back and just admitted it.

sober peter would never admit any of that.

“you don’t have to change anything for me, pete. i like you, too.” you grin down at him. peter returns it and puckers his lips at you. “cool. does that mean i can get a kiss?” letting out a breath, you help him sit up again. he whines about it for all of ten seconds before yawning.

this isn’t exactly how you saw this moment going. peter is too shy to ever really initiate anything, and you never knew if he felt the same. you’re always trying to figure out each other’s boundaries. he has to debate with himself about little things like giving you his jacket or facetiming you at night.

he never wants to overstep. you never want to scare him off. having him drunkenly snuggle with you breaks all those boundaries. at least something finally does. the kiss will have to wait until whatever he drank leaves his system, which hopefully won’t be long. his powers are a possibility once again.

“it’s nap time for you,” you tell peter like he’s a kid. he protests like one, too. “but i’m not tired.” “yeah you are. you just yawned.” he opens his mouth to speak. you talk first. “lay down.” he’s caught off guard this time when you push at his chest. it makes him fall back on the pillows.

you giggle and take the jingle bells off his head. they can’t be comfortable. peter makes grabby hands for you. “come lay with me, baby,” he mumbles into the pillow his face is squished in. your heart flutters hearing him call you that. his arms do look inviting. they’re all ready to hold you.

too bad he’s on time out.

“i can’t. i’m supposed to be back downstairs already.” you unenthusiastically get up from the bed. peter groans, rolling onto his side. “i want christmas cuddles.” “you’ll get some after your nap,” you promise and poke his shoulder. “and a kiss.” he closes his eyes the literal second you say that.

you like this boy way too much.

[sunmoonandeddie]

who you are and who you’ve been

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 8,490

summary: Sometimes love takes a little longer to find you.

warnings: SMUT.  Mention of past abusive relationship, drinking, swearing.

a/n:  Thank you so much to @zeilenkrieg for commissioning this and being so patient while I wrote it!!

“Mama!  Mama!  You here?”

You sighed as you looked up from your coffee, seeing your daughter coming through the living room.  She had on that pair of daisy dukes that she stole from your wardrobe—the ones you used to wear in the heat of summer, a white shirt tied to let the sun on your tummy.  You used to scandalize your own mama with that outfit… 

You had argued with her that she had worn the same kind of outfit back in the seventies, and that vintage was in.  But she liked to wear hers with cowboy boots and you preferred it with a good pair of sneakers.

God, you missed being young…  Your twenties had been absolutely wild, even if they had started out with that horrible pandemic in 2020.

You still washed your hands after touching almost anything.  An instinct that never went away.

That year and the couple years before had been… insane.  But at least it incited real change in the world.  The people had learned from their mistakes, at least for now.

History did have a habit of repeating itself.  Humans were fickle, forgetful creatures like that.

“Yes, honey bun?” You said as you stood up, moving to hug her.

At thirty-seven years old, she was the only good thing that ever came out of your marriage.  That, and knowing how to wash blood out of clothing.

The only problem was that by the time you’d finally left him, you had no friends left.  You were in your forties by then, with no family besides your daughter, and no friends left to speak of.  You hadn’t even had Facebook at the time to keep in touch with old schoolmates from university.  And by then, what was the point?  They were all leading completely different lives and probably hadn’t spared you a thought in at least a decade.

“When’s the last time you left the house?” She asked, her hands on her hips in a stance that reminded you so much of yourself that it scared you.

Now that… that was hard to answer…  You honestly didn’t think you’d be able to remember.  You got practically everything delivered, you worked from home… 

Shaking your thoughts away, you shot her a look.  “I’m fine right where I am.”

“Your doctor called and said you haven’t been taking your medication.”

“Fuckin’ snitch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you turned back to the window, staring down at the now cold coffee.

Josephine rolled her eyes.  “He said you haven’t picked up your refill in over two months.”  She came over to stand next to you, staring out the window with you for a long time.  “Mama, you’ve gotta take your medicine…  You remember what happened last time…”

Ah, yes, the infamous incident.

Which was an incident in a long line of incidents.

There had been a… few times when you’d stopped taking your medication—either intentionally or simply because you had forgotten—and it had resulted in a stay in the psych ward at the local hospital.  It had happened far too many times for your daughter to not be in contact with your doctor so she would be informed if you had stopped getting your refills.

You didn’t blame her, of course.  But it did make you feel like a horrible mother.  One who couldn’t even take care of herself to the point where your daughter had to.

“Yes, I remember last time,” you sighed, staring at a cardinal.  “You know, my mama used to tell me that if you see a cardinal, a loved one who’s passed is visiting you…”

“Mama, I signed you up for a seniors’ social club.”

You blinked.

And then, you blinked again.

You turned to look at your daughter, disbelief written all over your face.  “No the fuck you did not.  I swear to all that is holy, Josephine Ann, if you signed me up for one of those… those… pre-death support groups, I’ll tan your hide!”  You gasped as some of your coffee splashed onto your sweatshirt.  “I brought you into this world, and I sure as hell can take you out of it!”

“You’ve been saying that since I was two,” She said, taking your arm and guiding you to sit down at the kitchen table.  “And it’s not a pre-death support group.  I feel like that’s offensive somewhere so make sure you don’t go running around the group saying that.”  Josephine used a paper napkin to dab at the coffee on your sweatshirt, muttering about throwing it into the wash and getting you a new one.

This was what you meant by your daughter taking care of you.

“Josie, really, I can get my own sweatshirt.”

“Doesn’t mean you gotta,” she said as she came back with a new one, helping you change.

Sometimes you felt like she thought you were a hundred years old.

“Honestly, mama…  I just want you to be happy…  You should have friends.  You shouldn’t be cooped up in this house all day, all the time.”

“What do I need friends for when I’ve got you?  And Danny?” You asked.

But you had been hit with the sudden reality that except for Josephine and her girlfriend, you were alone.  Completely, and utterly, alone.  Hell, they were the only people you had ever invited over to the tiny one bedroom you owned.

Repairmen didn’t count because they were there to do a job, not keep you company.

God, you had wanted more than this, once upon a time.  You had once had dreams, of maybe being a writer and making the New York Times’ Bestsellers List, of a husband who adored you and brought you flowers every Friday, of lazy Sundays eating waffles on the couch with the love of your life.

But life didn’t end up the way you had dreamed it.  There were no book signings or meetings with editors… there were no gardenias… and there was no smell of waffles and syrup.

And you’d made your peace with that.

Sort of.

Josephine’s arms wrapped around you as she rested her head against yours.  Like a mirror of yourself, she was, from her face down to her toes.

Thank god.  She didn’t deserve to have to look in the mirror and see reflections of her father.

“Will you at least try it?” She asked gently, her hand running up and down your arm, her freshly manicured nails tickling your skin.  “It’s not like a pre-death support group, as you call it…  It’s for seniors or people who are approaching seniority and are still active and want to go out and have fun, but maybe need some friends to do it with.  Please?”

And how could you say no when she wanted something so badly?

“Alright,” you said after a moment.  “I’ll go once.  And if it’s horrible, I’m not going back.  And I’m gonna tell Danny how you forced me to meet a bunch of strangers.”

She squealed excitedly, running off to your bedroom and going through your closet.  “Okay, the first thing the group is doing is having a first meeting at a bar, and we’re gonna get you all done up.”

Oh, good.  She was going all in.

“When’s the first meeting?” You asked as you sat on the bed, leaning back on your hands as you watched her.

“Tonight.”

Uh.  What?

“TONIGHT?!” You shouted in shock as you jumped up.  “What?!  You didn’t think to ask me about this a few days ago?!”

She snorted, picking out a few tops that you hadn’t worn in what felt like decades.  “I signed you up this morning, I didn’t know about it a few days ago.”

You watched in exasperation as she threw article after article of clothing onto the bed for you to try on.  “I don’t think I need to wear four pairs of jeans to a bar,” you said, beginning to pick up a few of the pieces.

Josephine gave you a look as she continued.  “Considering how long it’s been since you’ve been out, I think it’s fair that some of these might not fit anymore.”

Well, you had lost some weight…  Not necessarily in a healthy way, but she was right.

In the end, she ended up shoving you into the bathroom and forced you to do a full shower—which meant body and hair.

You hadn’t even gone to such lengths when you were going on your first date with her father.

She spent hours on your hair and makeup, chattering away excitedly about the vacation her and Danny were planning.  A South American cruise.

Josephine had never married, never had kids.  Never wanted to after seeing what her daddy had put you through.  It left a sour taste in her mouth, and even though it was legal now, her and her girlfriend hadn’t breathed a word of a wedding.

Though, you suppose they had a common law marriage at that point, if lesbians were included in it.

“Perfect,” she said as she got you to slip on an old jacket of yours that was a little too big.  “Come on.  I’ll drive you and pick you up.”

“Oh, honestly,” you snorted as you grabbed the purse Josephine had shoved all your things into.  “You’d think I could take an Uber.”

The bar wasn’t what you had expected when she had first told you that’s where the meeting was going to be held.  The last bars you’d been to had practically been nightclubs.

But this was… upscale.  Sophisticated.

Now you understood just why she had put so much work into making you look presentable.

It didn’t look like anyone else was there yet, even though most of the patrons were around your age, so you took a seat at the bar, the group’s site pulled up on your phone.

“What can I get for you, miss?” The bartender asked as he set down a coaster in front of you.

A snort erupts from your throat as you look at him.  “You always call women as old as me miss?”

“Oh, come on, you’re a catch,” he said, shooting you a playful wink.  “My dad’s single, you know.  If you were… looking.”

“Thank you, but I’m not,” you said gently, your cheeks flushed.  “Can I get a Manhattan?”

The bartender nodded, gracefully backing off the subject of you possibly dating his father.  And barely a minute and a half later, there’s a perfectly made Manhattan set on your coaster.

You’d barely taken a sip before someone came up beside you.  “Do you have Macallan’s 18 Year Sherry Oak?” A man asked.  At the bartenders confirmation, he hummed.  “Can I get a double on the rocks?”

The bartender dropped a large ball of ice into a glass before pouring two shots of whiskey over it and handing it to the man.

“Macallan’s, huh?” You said softly, your heart pounding.  Josephine had told you to make friends.  That was the whole point of this, even if the man wasn’t part of the social club you’d been forced into.  “You know your whiskeys.”

The tall man took a seat beside you, his eyes boring into the side of your face.  You hadn’t dared look at him yet.  “I’ve always preferred those who choose a Manhattan over a martini any day.”

“And why is that?” You asked, finally looking up at him.

And oh, you wished you hadn’t.  He was… stunning.  The very definition of male beauty.  His salt and pepper hair reminded you of the photos of the men in the forties…  The 1940s, that is.  Blue eyes so striking that you lost your breath, and broad shoulders that you knew would haunt your dreams.  He was wearing a glove on his left hand for some reason, but you didn’t linger on it too long.

But at least he was at least your age, if not a little older.  You’d die if you’d just sort of flirted with a twenty-something asshole who just bought expensive whiskeys for the sake of buying expensive whiskeys to show that he had money to blow.

“Martini drinkers think they’ll get some kind of award for their choice of drink,” he said, “as though choosing a drink that generally tastes like shit is some kind of accomplishment.  Unless you’re just taking a shot, a drink should taste good.”  He looked you up and down, letting his pretty blues linger on your lips.  There were faint crow feet at the corners of his eyes, but they just seemed to make him even more handsome.  “And a Manhattan doesn’t need a fancy whiskey.  It is steady and sure even with the cheapest five dollar bottle you can get from a gas station.  Someone whose drink of choice is a Manhattan is sure of who they are and what they want.”

You hadn’t felt this hot under a man’s gaze in decades.  “Really?”  Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you took another sip of your drink to buy you a moment.

“Mmm…”  He stole one of the two cherries from your drink, biting it off the stem.  You were transfixed as he slipped the stem into his mouth, sticking his tongue out about thirty seconds later with a perfect cherry stem knot on display.  “Really.  I’m James.  What’s your name?”

Butterflies filled your stomach as you gave him your name.  God, you felt like you were sixteen again and being flirted with for the first time.

His eyes flicked down to your open phone that rested on the bar, the social club’s page still up.  “You’re here for the meeting, too?”

“Um…  Yes,” you said, ducking your head.

“But, doll…”  He leaned towards you, a charming smile on his lips.  “You don’t look a day over thirty-five.  Are you sure you’re a senior?”

Blinking, your mouth hung open in a soft o.  “Are you planning on flirting with every woman in the club like this?”

James looked around dramatically, his gloved hand resting over his heart.  “A club?!  Is that what you call this place?” He asked, mockingly serious.  “Damn, what does that make all those dirty, gross places these young kids go to now?  Brothels?”

For some reason, you felt comfortable enough to shove his shoulder, surprised a little at the feeling of metal under his jacket sleeve.

For the first time, he looked a bit… uncomfortable.  He had flinched a bit, his bright eyes focused surely on his drink.  “Um…”

“You’re the Winter Soldier.  James Barnes,” you said curiously, your head tilting to the side as you looked at him.  “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhm,” you drawled, taking the cherry left in your drink and biting it off in a way that you hoped was alluring.  “Though, I gotta say, it is a bit awkward to meet the man I wrote two papers about in high school.”

Shit, his laugh was beautiful.  Everything about him was beautiful.  Like Apollo or something...

James’s head was thrown back in laughter.  His cheeks were flushed, his eyes squeezed shut.  “Did you actually write two papers about me?” He asked as he tried to catch his breath.  At your nod, he smirked, leaning in close again.  “What did you write about?  How devilishly handsome I am?”

You couldn’t believe you were saying this.  “I mean, I can show you the papers and actually let you read them, but they’re at my place.”

Before he could pick his jaw up off the ground, there were other seniors in the group coming up to greet you.  Your throat was dry as the Sahara as you turned to face them, plastering on a smile as you tried to ignore the heated gaze on your face and the way he licked his lips.

The meeting was… long.  Boring.

Or at least, that’s how it felt when you had James’s dark, sultry eyes on you the entire goddamn time.

Mind fuzzy, you vaguely remembered agreeing to come to the next meeting, and even signing up for a hiking trip they were taking the next weekend.

As you headed outside, you felt Bucky’s hand slip into yours, his long, calloused fingers intertwining with yours.  “So…  Am I gonna get to come over and… read those papers?” He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

God, you could practically feel yourself bursting into flames.  You weren’t gonna survive.

Thank god your daughter had forced you into a full shower.

But what about how dirty your house was sure to be?

“Um…  Y-Yeah,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “But, my daughter is gonna be driving me home…  I don’t want her to know I’ve got someone coming over.  She’s nosey.  Real…  Real nosey.”

“Of course, darlin,’” he chuckled.  “Here, why don’t I give you my phone number, and you shoot me a text with your address when you’re ready for me to come over?”

Your head was swirling as you got into your daughter’s car, your phone burning a hole in your purse.

“How was it?” Josephine asked nervously once you got about halfway home.  She couldn’t tell from the look on your face.  “Did you like it?”

“Hm?  Yeah.”  Swallowing, you shot a text to James with your name, telling him you’d text him when it was all clear.

“Are you gonna go again?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

She seemed both dissatisfied and pleased by your vague answers.  At least you were getting out of the house.

Once you got home and said goodbye, it was a mad dash to ensure that your house was clean as could be.  Josie had put in some work while you’d been gone, it seemed.  She’d done the dishes and the laundry, as well as dusted.

Thank fuck.

You struggled for a solid twenty minutes to put fresh sheets and pillowcases on the bed, lighting two candles and placing them in a manner that you hoped seemed natural.

“Shit,” you cursed as you smelled under your arms.

Okay, quick body shower.  It seemed all that flirting had made you a tiny bit sweaty.

You turned the water to scalding and scrubbed your body down, exfoliating and using your best scented body wash.

And to be quite frank, you’d never shaved your lady bits as quick as that.

As you texted him your address and that it was safe to come over, you pulled on your clothing from the bar (though, you did put on nicer, matching lingerie underneath.)  By the time he’d gotten there, you’d downed two shots of tequila for a bit of liquid courage and had poured yourself a glass of wine.

“Hey, baby doll,” he said, a crooked grin on his face as you welcomed him inside.  His glove had been abandoned, and black metal fingers lined with gold glittered in the light.  “Woah…  You know, I wasn’t sure how your place was gonna look, but this is very… you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked as you offered him a glass of wine, which he gratefully took.  “How so?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled as he swirled the deep red liquid in its glass.  “It’s cozy.  Sweet.”

Your throat was dry as you watched his adam’s apple bob as he took a drink.  “Um… so those papers…”

Bucky whispered your name, moving closer to you as he set the wine glass down on the counter.  “Baby girl, I’m not really here for the papers, am I?” He asked as your back hit the island.  “If I am…  If I am, then just tell me, and I’ll stop this.”  His slightly chapped lips ghosted against yours like the tease he was.  “Am I here just for the papers?”

“No,” you breathed out, before pressing your lips against his in a firm kiss at last.  His breath was minty and cool, with just a touch of the wine you’d been sharing, like he’d brushed his teeth before coming over just like you had.

Could it be possible he was just as nervous as you were?

But he was perfect?  Why the hell would he be nervous?

Your thoughts were cut short as he reached down, his hands firmly grabbing your ass as he lifted you up and set you on the counter.  “That’s a good girl,” he growled as he kissed down your neck, his hands working at your blouse.  “Couldn’t stop thinking about you during that whole stupid fucking meeting.  Just wanted to kiss you.  Just wanted to… to touch you.”  He pulled back, kissing you fiercely as his hands moved from your blouse to hold your face again.  “You gonna let me touch you, angel?”

A whine escaped your throat as you nodded, desperately yanking at his shirt.  Once it was off, you didn’t hesitate to run your hands over the broad planes of his chest.  He wasn’t quite as toned as you remembered from when you were younger, when you used to (occasionally) stalk (lightly) his social media accounts.  There’d been so many pictures of him on vacation with the other Avengers… all tanned and toned…

But you liked this better.  There was a softness to him now, a gentleness.

You were so distracted by his physique that you didn’t notice he’d gotten your shirt and bra off until the cold air hit your chest.  “Fuck,” you mumbled as his lips found your neck, trailing down to your breasts.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been kissed, let alone the last time you’d had such… attention.

Especially when his hands worked your pants off and he stood between your legs, moaning as his fingers tickled your thighs.  “You’re so beautiful,” he said as his lips wrapped around one nipple, suckling at it and teasing until it was diamond hard, and he moved on to the other.

Gotta be fair, after all.

“James…”

“Fuck, baby girl…  Never been with a woman as beautiful as you,” he growled, kissing down your tummy.  “You’re not making it out of here without orgasming at least twice,” he warned jokingly.  He was half bent over in front of the island, watching in wonder as he slowly pulled your silk panties down your legs and revealed your aching core to him.

“I-If you’re not comfortable standing like that, w-we can move somewhere else,” you stammered, suddenly growing self conscious.  What if he thought your pussy was weird?  Granted, you’d overcome thinking that when you were in your early twenties, after learning that each one looked different.

But he was born in the forties.

But that meant he’d probably seen an exponential amount of pussies!

Oh, god, there was no way you’d have anywhere near as much experience as him.  The only person you’d ever been with was your ex husband, and he wasn’t exactly the paradigm of lovers.

“Hey.”

You refocused with a shake of your head, your eyes meeting James’s.  “Yes?”

“You’re in your head,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly ran his fingers along your sensitive folds.  “There’s no need…  It’s just you and me, okay?  And you’re absolutely perfect.”

Your heart was melting inside your chest as you nodded, stealing a tentative kiss.  “Okay…  Just you and me.”

James nipped at your lower lip as he lifted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Come on.  I don’t want our first time to be on a kitchen counter.  Though I make no promises I won’t help christen every inch of this house after,” he said with a playful growl.

You whispered directions to your bedroom as he held you tight to his chest, his lips finding purchase on your neck.  “And here I thought you said the super soldier serum was wearing off,” you joked.

The man snorted as he pushed you up against the hallway wall.  “Trust me, doll, no lack of super soldier serum is gonna stop me from fucking you right,” he said, his voice husky and deep.

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, two thick fingers were slipping inside of you to slowly tease your cunt, his lips ghosting over yours.  “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed at the whimper that fell from your lips.  “Y-Yes.  Yes.  Please, I need more, James…”

James smiled into the kisses he’d been giving you.  “I’ll give you everything you want.”

“That’s a tall order.”  You threaded your fingers through his hair, shivering at the way his metal fingers dug into the plumpness of your ass.  “You sure you can fill it?”

He doesn’t respond with words, growling as he kisses you fiercely, carrying you to the bedroom.  You don’t have time to think before he’s crawling over you and kissing up your tummy to your lips.  “I need to be inside you,” He whispered as he stroked his length.

“Please…  Don’t wanna wait anymore,” you said.  Vaguely, you’re aware of the twinge in your knees from all the physical activity, and you knew you’d be sore as hell in the morning.

Fucking worth it, though.

James didn’t hesitate to line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.  When he finally pushed in, unison moans fill the air.

“I…  I haven’t done this in… so long,” you finally admitted as he slowly pushed in more, taking his time.  Eyes locked, your mouth fell open in a soft ‘o’ as he bottomed out, his hips meeting yours.  “Oh, fuck…”

“Then I better do a real good job fucking you right.”

You weren’t quite sure how long you two lasted, but you do know he manages to pull three orgasms out of you in the space of just a few hours.  There’s snack and water breaks in between rounds, his cool metal hand running up and down your spine to cool you down as you two whisper in the dim light of your desk lamp.

You can’t remember a time that you’d felt so at peace.

A spark had been lit inside your chest as you two laid there in bed, legs intertwined.  Both of you were quiet, his fingers moving to caress your cheek.

There were no words that needed to be said.

His sea blue eyes are sparkling in the dim light, and your hand runs over the sharp stubble that lines his jaw.  It had certainly marked up your neck.

“I had intended on asking you on a date,” he said quietly as his hand found yours, bringing it to his mouth.  Chapped lips kissed each of your knuckles like you were something precious, something to behold.  “I didn’t think the five minutes or so before the meeting counted…  But I’d still like to take you on that date, if you’ll let me.”

“That sounds nice,” you said, a grin twinging at the corners of your lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, sitting up a bit as his fingers brushed against your forehead.

“Yeah.”  A giggle escaped your lips as he playfully tackled you, starting yet another round as his hips rolled down against yours.

The next morning, you woke up alone.  The sheets beside you were mussed, though the space James had been occupying was still a bit warm.

Jazz music floated down the hall, through the cracked door, and you could vaguely hear the clinking of pans.

It took you a minute to gather the will to get yourself out of bed and find your robe, but you finally did it.  As your feet hit the ground and you pushed yourself to a stand, you winced.

You had been right about feeling it in your knees.

You forced yourself to walk smoothly down the hall, despite how much it hurt.  Embarrassing yourself in front of James was the last fucking thing you wanted to do.

He was in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove and humming along with the old jazz song playing on the Bluetooth speaker.  He had a pan full of pancake batter in front of him, a whole stack he’d already made on the side.

Standing in the doorway, you couldn’t help but grin as you watched him.  He’s so handsome… and he seemed so at home in your kitchen.  In your home.

Maybe he’d like to move in…

You shook your head, knowing that it’s already too much.

But the thought was nice.

Him in his pajamas, making coffee…  Him in your shower…  Him in your bed every night…  

Yeah.  It’s a really, really nice thought.

“Hi.”

James jumped, his eyes wide as he whirled round to face you.  “Hi.  I thought I had another thirty minutes before I had to go and wake you up,” he said.  “I’m making pancakes.  For you.  For us.”  His cheeks flushed, turning a bright red as he turned back to the pan to quickly flip the pancake.  “I hope you don’t mind that I used your flour and shit…”

“Oh, no, I…  I almost never cook,” you admitted as you moved over to stand next to him, watching as he made two more pancakes.

As he carried the huge plate to the kitchen island, he teasingly grabbed your ass and squeezed.  “Maybe I’ll have to stay the night more often, if only so you get a homemade breakfast.”

It was sweet, and domestic, and somewhat terrifying.

You hadn’t had a man do anything for you like this since you were in your twenties, when your husband was still sweet and loving.

But even so, this was somehow better than anytime your husband made his famous burritos.

Maybe because James’s cooking actually tasted good.

Your first date was to a movie, a drive in.  Something that’s designed to be vintage but really just looked cheesy as all hell.

But it’s perfect.  Perfect and cheesy and romantic.

Your only complaint was that he didn’t kiss you at the door when he dropped you off.  He pressed his lips to your cheek and whispered a goodnight, and that was it.

It took two more dates within the same week for him to kiss you again.

Bright and early on the next Saturday morning, he knocked on your door, holding a bouquet of flowers.

“I figured I should make up for you having to be up so early with this,” he said as he came inside, kissing you quick before moving to put the flowers in a vase.

At this point, he knew your house almost as well as you did.  It felt good, when you two moved around like you were part of a team.

“Have you gotten your coffee this morning?” You asked, already pouring two travel mugs full of the good stuff.

He came up behind you, kissing your shoulder.  “I have, but you know I’ll never say no to more, doll.”

The rest of the group eyed you curiously as you got out of the same car, a few elbow nudges and whispers in the air.

“At least I know no old ass dickheads are gonna come hit on my girlfriend,” James growled in your ear, his calloused flesh hand squeezing your hip.

“Jamie…,” you whined, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.  No one had ever claimed you in such a way that made you feel so desired and… and worthy.

James made you feel worthy.

Which is something you’d only ever really gotten from your daughter.

It sent a bolt of arousal through you, and you were tempted to drag him back to the car so you could bring him right back home and do something about it.

Also…  Girlfriend?  Were you his girlfriend now?  Officially?

That just made you wanna find somewhere to fuck him even more.

But alas, you pushed the thought away as the lot of you boarded one of those white airport vans that took you out of the city to the closest state park.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed out as you stared out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.  The morning air was a bit chillier than it had been lately, signaling the coming onslaught of winter.

Maybe Bucky would wanna make hot cocoa together… go sledding…  Would him, Josephine, and Danny would all come over for Christmas and New Years and—

Would he even want to meet Josephine?

Would Josie wanna meet him?

She had no idea that you’d found a—A boyfriend?

“Not as beautiful as you,” Bucky murmured against the shell of your ear as his vibranium fingers intertwined with yours and squeezed.  His stubble tickled your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, watching the passing scenery with you.  “I’m really glad I met you, doll…”

“Me, too,” you said, grinning as you squeezed his hand back and leaned your head against his.

It was strange, falling so hard for someone so quick after everything you’d been through.

But you had a gut feeling.  One that you had never had with your ex husband.

James was a good one.  A really, really good one.

That reminded you.

When were you meant to tell him about all the shit you’d been through?

Despite the amount of time you had spent together already, you hadn’t found the courage for it.

Soon, you decided.

But first, you had to get through the damn hike.

Bucky was glued to your side the entire time, even though you were a lot worse at hiking than he was.  He would hold your hand, guiding you anytime there was a fallen tree or a creek.  His blue eyes were soft as he murmured encouragement, quietly praising your every move.

It was intoxicating.

So when you two fell behind from the group, watching them go around a curve and down a hill, you dragged James behind a large rock formation.

“Baby doll?  Darling, what the hell are you doing?” He laughed as you pressed a fierce kiss to his lips.

“Can’t a girl be spontaneous?” You teased as you dropped to your knees, ignoring the way a twig was poking into your left knee.  “Need to taste you.”

His eyes locked on you as you worked at his jeans, getting them down and off, his nails scratching at your scalp as he got a good grip on your head.  “Fuck…  Are you really this needy for me, angel?  Fuck, you’re so god damn gorgeous…  Look at you.”

Your heart pounded against your rib cage as you finally freed his length, a grin on your lips as you wrapped your hand around him and slowly stroked him.

Bucky’s eyes rolled back as your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.  “Fucking shit…  Good girl…  Suck me off real good, baby.”

The group probably would notice your absence, not that you particularly cared.

Not when you had your man so weak for you.  And all you’d had to do was get on your knees.

His metal and flesh hands guided you to take more of him in, going at a slow pace so as not to hurt you.  He was so big there was no way you’d get all of him down your throat but what you couldn’t take in your mouth, you pleasured with your hands.

Pleasuring your partner like this was addicting.  You’d never felt the desire—no, the incessant need—to please your ex husband.  All you could think about was getting Bucky off, making him feel so good that he couldn’t see or walk straight.

You choked around him as you took him as deep as possible, your eyes glassy.  When you popped off, you stroked him as you moved down to carefully suck at his balls, fighting a grin as he gasped, his hips stuttering.  Before he could orgasm, you took him back in your mouth, wanting to swallow him down.

“Fuck, fuck—  Oh, shit…  Baby—  I’m gonna…  I’m gonna—”  Bucky broke off with a shout as he came, spilling down your throat.  His large hands stroked your cheeks as you swallowed all of it, barring the little bit that had gotten on your lower lip.  “You did so good, darling,” he cooed as he helped you stand, pressing you against the rock behind him as he kissed you.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“No, you didn’t,” you said, a faint smile on your lips as you helped him put himself back away.  “You were perfect, James…”

When you finally caught up to the group, a few of the others shot you knowing looks.

But Bucky just had a satisfied smirk on his lips, his hand tightly intertwined with yours even as you flushed in embarrassment.

“Once we get home, it’s your turn,” he whispered in your ear as you all headed back for the van.

Your relationship with James was… wonderful.

It was easy in a way you’d never had before.

Within just two months, he was living at your house almost full time, to the point where you’d been thinking about asking him to move in.

It was like you two were magnets.  Even when you both had work to do, you did it in the same room, slowly gravitating towards each other until you were sitting close, your foot running up his calf.

And he’d gotten you to start writing.

“It’s your dream, doll.  You’re never too old to chase your dreams,” he said one night as you two laid in bed.  His metal fingers were tracing shapes on your spine, a chill from the cracked window ruffling his sweaty hair.  “If you don’t mind me asking…  Why did you stop in the first place?”

Ah.

The conversation you’d been avoiding for so long.

Sitting up, you pressed your hands to your face as you tried to find the words to say.  “Um…  I was married before…  I know you know, but, uh…”  Your fingers fiddled together nervously.  You swallowed around the lump in your throat.  “My husband…  He wasn’t…  He wasn’t nice.  At all.”

Bucky immediately sat up behind you, his vibranium hand resting flat on your back to reassure you that he was there, and to give you something to focus on while you spoke.  He didn’t need to speak for you to know.  He was there and he wasn’t running.

“I married him young… and I had Josephine young…  He’d always been so… possessive, but I just considered it protective,” you continued, pulling strength from his touch to keep on going.  You needed to tell him this.  You needed him to understand.  “Then after Josie was born, he started getting violent.  He’d always been mean, but he’d never hit me until after I gave birth…”

James was tense behind you, slowly scooting over so he could wrap his arms around you, his legs resting on either side of yours as he held you.  He needed you close.  Needed to know you were safe in his arms and that man was long gone.

“Put me in the hospital a few times…  He at least didn’t do it in front of Josie.  That’s the one thing I asked of him that he listened to.”  You couldn’t help but snort as you slowly relaxed back against him.  “She always thought all the bruises and shit was just a side effect of how clumsy I am…  But she came home one day during college, to surprise us…  She walked in on him holding a frying pan above his head, about to swing again.  She jumped in between us and told him if he ever touched me again, she’d kill him.”  You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as his lips pressed to your bare shoulder.  It was soothing, feeling his skin against yours.  “She moved me out of that house and into her apartment, helped me get the divorce, get back on my feet…”

“Remind me to tell Josephine thank you,” he said quietly as he squeezed you close.  “Thank you for telling me, doll…  I…  I can’t imagine how hard that was…  But he’ll never touch you again.  No one will ever touch you again if you don’t want it.”

“I know.”

He nuzzled into your hair, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.  “I love you.  So much…”

A peace settled over you as you rested your head back against his, allowing yourself to truly fall into him, to relax.  “And I love you…”

After that night, Bucky slept over at your place five to six nights a week, only going home to get more clothes and do his laundry really, even though you’d told him a million times he could do it at your place.

“Wake up, sweetheart,” he murmured in your ear one morning, pushing your hair away from your face.  “Time to get up…  I’ve got breakfast ready for you…”

Groaning, you tried to pull him down for more cuddle time, but he wasn’t having it.  He always woke up before you, too many years a soldier coming into play.  He’d go for a run and make breakfast before waking you up.

“Come on, doll,” he chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips as he got you to sit up, your vision blurry from sleep still.  “Medicine,” he said, pressing your pills into your palm and putting a glass of water in your other. 

Ever since he’d found out about your prescriptions and how you had a hard time remembering to take them, he’d taken it upon himself to make sure you did, every morning and night without fail.

“What’d you make this morning?” You asked sleepily after swallowing your pills, letting him pull you to your feet.  His t-shirt clung to you as you followed him down the hall.  Your hand was tucked into his as you rounded the corner to the kitchen.

What neither of you had heard was the sound of the front door opening.

“Mama?!  What the hell?!” Josephine demanded, standing in the kitchen with Danny right behind her.  “Who the fuck is this?!  What is he doing here?!”

Oh.

Yeah.

You’d neglected to tell your daughter, afraid of how she might take it.

“Hello.  I’m James.  Or Bucky,” your boyfriend said as he held out his hand to you, clearly unashamed and standing his ground even though he was only wearing a pair of pajama pants.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Your daughter repeated angrily, ignoring his hand.

“Josie,” Danny began, trying to soothe her.

But your daughter was nothing but determined when she was in her protective mode.

Before you could open your mouth, Bucky supplied, “I’m her boyfriend.”

You felt a flush coming over you as she stared at the two of you, slack-jawed.  “He is,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his metal one.  You were so nervous, you were shaking.

“When did this happen?!” She demanded, beginning to pace back and forth around the kitchen.

“Um…  The first meeting at the bar… for the club,” you said.  Seeing her so upset made your anxiety spike, and you knew James could feel it, could hear the way your heart rate increased exponentially.

Josephine whirled on you, her eyes—so much like yours—wide with disbelief.  No.  Betrayal.  “You’ve been seeing someone for almost three months and you didn’t tell me?”

“I…”  Tears pricked your eyes as you tightened your grip on Bucky’s arm.  This was not the way you wanted them meeting to go.  “I was scared… of how you’d react…”

At that moment, Bucky turned to meet your eyes, his forehead almost pressing against yours.  “Darling, I feel like this is a conversation you two should have alone, yeah?  So I’m gonna take—Danny, right?  Yeah—Danny to the living room with some coffee so we can get to know each other, okay?”

After a nod, and a squeeze of his hand, he got two mugs of coffee and led your daughter’s girlfriend to the living room.  You could see them sitting down from the corner of your eyes, but you were much too focused on Josephine.

“Mama, I—”

“I love him,” you said, before she could say anything more.

Her eyes were shining, locked on you as she waited for you to speak.  In her gut, she knew this was something you needed to get out.

“I love him more than I’ve ever loved a man.  More than I loved your father,” you whispered, your voice cracking.  “And I know…  I know you’re as protective as you are because you saw how he treated me.  You saw how much I hid that he was hurting you, but Jamie isn’t like that.”  Your fingers fiddled as you tried to keep yourself from pacing.  “He’s kind and adoring and gentle and…  and he loves me.  More than I thought anyone could ever love me.  And I know you feel like you need to take care of me and I am so grateful.  And I still need you.  Everyday.  But Bucky…  I love him.  I love him and he loves me and we take care of each other.”

Josephine reached out, slowly taking your hands in hers.  “He…  He makes you happy?  He takes care of you and you’re safe?” She asked, voice trembling as a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Yeah.  He takes real good care of me,” you insisted with a weak laugh.  “And I’ve never been so happy before, honey.  I promise.”

“Okay…,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “I’m still giving him the shovel talk.”

Bucky looked up as Josephine entered the living room, looking much calmer.  He wasn’t sure what you’d said, but it had seemed to placate her for the time being.

“Can we talk outside?” She asked him, keeping her chin high.

God, she looked so much like you.

He nodded stiffly, getting to his feet and leaving his mug behind as he followed her to the front door and out onto the porch.  The former super soldier watched as she paced back and forth, biting her thumb.  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie stopped in her tracks, listening quietly.

“Your mama loves you something fierce.”  Nervously rubbing his hands on his pajama pants, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so nervous meeting a girl’s family.

Though, he supposed it was a bit different when it was meeting your girlfriend’s daughter.

“And I love her.”

Your daughter, your mini me, stared him directly in the eyes.  “I’m sure she’s told you about my father.  What he did.”

“She did.”

“So you know that if you put one fucking foot out of line, I’ll filet you?”

“I do.”

She eyed him for a long moment.  “What are you in this for?  What’s the long term?” She asked.  “I’ve heard of elders just… settling for someone because they don’t wanna be alone in their twilight years.  Is that what this is?”

Bucky tried really hard not to feel a little bit offended.  He wasn’t that old.  “I’ve been alive since 1917,” he said slowly.  “I have no doubt you know who I am.  But I’ve been alive a hundred and something years, and I’ve never met someone who makes me feel the way your mom does.”  His heart clenched inside his chest as he thought of you, seeing your shy smile in the mornings, how you clung to him when you went out in public, the sound of your voice as you read an excerpt of your writing to him, so nervous about what he would think.  “And I…  I can say that everything I’ve been through…  Everything I’ve ever been through was worth it, because I got to meet her.  And I get to be hers for the years I have left.”

She looked absolutely speechless.  “Good,” she said, coughing to clear her throat.  “Good.  I just…  I can’t see her get hurt again.  Not after everything.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan to,” he said, his mouth dry.  “I…  I actually have something to ask you about…  Been waiting to meet you to talk to you about it…”

Inside, you paced the kitchen and living room, going back and forth and back and forth, sometimes moving to the window to try to hear what they were saying.  But they were keeping it all very hushed.

“It’s gonna be fine, mama,” Danny said, standing up and moving to wrap her arms around you.  “Josie’ll see how much you two love each other, and it’ll be fine.  She’s just gotta have her protective moment.  You know how she is.”

Sniffling, you hugged her tightly.  “I shouldn’t have kept it from her for so long…  I was just so nervous…  They both…  They both mean the world to me.”  You paused, snorting.  “I knew you’d approve of him.  I wasn’t so worried about you.”

“Oh, please, the way that man looked at you?” She said, laughing as she kissed your forehead.  “Mama, there’s no way in hell that man would ever hurt you.  He looks at you like you’re his entire universe.”

Heart warm, you glanced towards the front door, wishing they’d just come inside already.  “I’ve never felt something like this…  But fuck, if the whole shit show that’s my life wasn’t worth it for him…  I wouldn’t change a thing, as long as it means I get to end up with him.”

You broke out of her grasp as the front door opened and they came back inside, looking relaxed and even… happy?  “Well?  You aren’t gonna kill him?” You asked Josie as you moved to James, heart racing.

“Nah…,” she said, giving him what seemed like a secretive smile.  “As far as dads go…  He’d be pretty nice to have.”

“What?” You said, brows furrowing as you looked between the two of them.

Bucky chuckled, winking at Josephine as he led you to the stove where breakfast was still waiting, making you waddle as his arms wrapped around you from behind.  “Don’t worry your pretty head about it, baby doll.  It’s all good.”

You still couldn’t help but feel like the two were planning something as he made your plate for you, cutting up your pancakes and filling up your coffee.  “Why do I feel like you two are gonna end up ganging up on me?”

“Oh, come on, mama,” Josephine said with a smirk on her face.  Her and Danny had made their own plates and joined you and Bucky in the living room.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?”

“Yeah,” James said as he fed you a bite of pancake.  “How could you ever accuse us of such a thing?” He asked, before leaning in and stealing a kiss.  “I love you.”

You’d never felt more relaxed, surrounded by the people you loved the most in the world.  What you’d said to Josephine had been true.

“I love you more,” you said, leaning back in for another kiss.

You’d never been so happy.

[ftm2bbw]

It'd be so hot to turn you into a cow without your knowing. At least, not at first. In the beginning it just seems like I'm being friendly. You're such a compulsive eater that you don't question why I'm bringing over snacks and junk food every time I come over to your place to hang out and yet I don't even touch the stuff. I just hand it to you and watch you scarf it down, getting off on how greedily you shovel it all down your throat, watching your belly bloat from being overly full. I'm just being nice, that's all!

From there, it's not a big leap to start bringing you full meals, sometimes bought, but often cooked myself. It's fine, I say. I like cooking! I just happened to have some extra ingredients laying around and didn't want them to go bad. By this point, you've gotten so conditioned to get hungry whenever I come over that you really aren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth, simply thanking me and digging in, trying not to think about how much fatter you've gotten recently.

It doesn't even occur to you to think about the ingredients, but I've chosen them very carefully. I've done the research, found ingredients that help encourage estrogen absorption and creation in the body, and loaded your food full of it. Sometimes, just for fun, I'll even grind up some lactation supplements and mix it in with the sauces, just to watch you suck them down with blissful ignorance.

I'm not sure exactly when I'd reveal my plan to you, tell you exactly what I've been doing to you and your body for weeks, possibly months. Telling you that so many of the changes in your body were done intentionally by me. But I know that, when the time comes, I'd reach out and grab your swollen udders, now visibly much larger than when I started, and wobble them in my grip, admiring my handiwork. And it's only just the beginning.

Hey, I’ve never been one to complain about more food - and if you’re not eating then that’s just more for me! I certainly wouldn’t question all the extra treats and meals, not like it’s easy to think straight with a stuffed belly anyway. And to think, it would all be in addition to everything I eat regularly on my own. All the deliveries and fast food that I can never seem to moderate.

Any changes I’d just chalk up to my weight gain, at least at first. Yeah, my ass is bigger and my tits are heavier and my hips seem to be spreading, but I’m sure the rest of my body will catch up in time. And I’m sure you wouldn’t stop at sneaking just lactation supplements into my food. Crushing up appetite stimulants, hormones, even things to keep me sleepy and lazy and sedentary. Can’t go burning off all those extra calories after all…

By the time you revealed your plan to me, I’m sure I’d be far too conditioned and complacent to care. Somewhere I’d be screaming in the back of my head, but it would pale in comparison to the hedonistic rapture of stuffing my face, having my belly rubbed, and getting my udders groped and milked. Not that I could fight you off at that point if I wanted, I’d be far, far too heavy and out of shape…

[kiribaku-queen]

The Blood King and his Queen [11]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Romance, Angst, Drama

Word count: 2.6K

Summary:  From being a mere servant girl to marrying the scariest prince in existence, your world changed right before your eyes. Exchanging places with the princess, you knew, wasn’t going to be easy. But could you have found love on the way? Or was it never meant to be?

A/N: Hello my loves! If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! And as always, I'd love to know your what you think since we did switch genres this chapter!

For everyone who congratulated me on my milestone and those who have sent in requests, A BIG THANK YOU! I will be working on those asap and let me tell you, I am sosososo excited to do them because you sent in some ANGSTY requests which i love love love! My heart broke reading some of them so I can't wait! Thank you so much again my love and happy reading! <3 Please don't hate me!

[previous]                                                                                               [next]

Today was the big day. The day of the engagement party. The day you were going to be shown off as the Blood Prince’s bride-to-be and future queen of the Kingdom. You felt excited yet sick to your stomach at the same time. You’ve never attended these types of events as a servant before so you had no idea what to expect or how to even act. You couldn’t even imagine how the day was going to go.

You woke up, of course, an empty bed. Images of last nights events replayed in your mind, making your cheeks heat up. But you smiled. It was one of the happiest and most memorable times of your life. Could life get any better at this point?

You were quick to jump out of bed, in a rush to find Bakugou. Your feet were light and your chest was filled with love that you felt like you couldn’t spend another minute without him. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t realize that you were still in your rather revealing nightgown that exposed more skin than necessary. In the moment, that didn’t matter to you. The silky, white gown flowed behind you as you rushed to find the man of your dreams.

Bakugou was conversing with some of the boys, Kirishima, Sero and Kaminari. By now, he hadn’t seen you yet which was perfect because now you could surprise him.

“Katsuki!” you shouted his name. The moment he turned around, you were jumping right into his arms. Your arms were tightly secured around his neck and your nose buried in the crook of his neck, giving you all of his scent. The boys had to turn away, faces red, out of respect for your privacy, as well as they didn’t want to die in the hands of a jealous Blood Prince. The boys immediately looked up, pretending that something had caught their eye so it wasn’t as obvious. Oh, but was it so obvious.

Bakugou was startled to see you in his arms so early. But quickly became protective when he saw what you were wearing. Nothing but sheer fabric? Revealing places that only Bakugou has seen? Not on his watch. Bakugou was quick to cover you up with his fur cape but also took to aside so no one was watching.

He takes you to a secluded hallway, or what seemed like one since he shooed everyone away. He places his hands on his hips and lets out a frustrated sigh.

“Why are you still in your nightgown?” he asks, annoyed. You give him a giddy smile while taking slow steps towards him. You place your fingers on his abdomen, slowly walking them up to tap his chest.

“I couldn’t wait to see you, my love,” you flirted in your best flirtatious voice possible. Bakugou couldn’t help himself. He pulled you in so your lips could meet. His kiss was so addicting, you wanted more of him. But like many good things, it was taken too fast for your liking. Bakugou had pulled away to rest your foreheads together, him breathless.

“You’re really tempting me,” he said in a raspy voice. “Should I take you right here, right now? For everyone to hear?” it was meant to be a threat but you giggled and one upped him.

“I’m all yours, your highness,” you say softly, getting closer to him all innocent like.

Bakugou didn’t really mean what he said. Did he want you right now? Absolutely. But it was all tease for fun and games. He wanted to rile you up as much as he can today so that later that night, that’s when they can have a lot of fun. Bakugou backs up and laughs at your pouting face. God, how he loved all your faces, all your expressions. You were so lively and expressive and beautiful. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Later,” he promised. “You should be getting ready for the ball.”

“As should you, but I don’t see you all fancied up,” you argue. He nods his head and shoos you away by placing a hand on the dimples of your back.

“Yes, yes, I’m about to do that now. I’ll come find you when you’re ready?” you nod in excitement, not being able to wait for that moment. He gives you an affectionate look, teasing you with an eskimo kiss before leaving back to his men. You absolutely melted at his touch. Sigh, you were so in love, it was painful to watch.

The ball was only a couple hours away and you had just gotten finished dressing. Your servants had prepared a lovely ballgown for you that was breathtaking to look at. The color red was supposed to signify the power you were being married into. As well as to match with the Prince’s outfit but we will keep that on the downlow. The dress was embroidered with thousands of handstitched flowers in the waist to bust area, around the sleaves and a little bit more throughout the ends of the dress. Not only that, but you were bedazzled in large jewels: dangling earrings and a bold necklace to match with the red tiara sitting on your head. It was a glamorous and expensive look they were having you go for. Only appropriate for a princess, soon to be queen.

Your heart was going pitter patter when you saw yourself. You couldn’t believe it. This was really happening. You were going to be getting engaged to your love. There was a knock at the door and in comes Bakugou, looking all dashing and handsome.

You gasped at the way he looked. The normal Bakugou you would see would be wearing his usual: cape with no shirt underneath, a pair of washed out pants and his boots. But this Bakugou? It was like you were seeing a completely different person. He wore a suit like a Prince, red and gold to the fit. He even had a side pocket that contained a handkerchief. His hair was lazily slid back but it didn’t matter because he was still handsome in your eyes.

“I’m surprised. You’re actually wearing clothes for once,” you comment.

“Get a good look princess, because this is the only time you’ll get to see me like this,” he says. He comes to you, placing a chaste kiss upon your lips. He side eyes the girls in your room. That gave them the cue to leave. They bowed, quickly leaving the room to give you some alone time for now.

As soon as that door closes, Bakugou attacks your lips with harsh and hungry kisses. You hum into the kiss as your teeth clash against each other but he makes up for it by slipping his tongue in.

“Stop, not now,” you protest, trying to push him off but with lazy pushes of his shoulders.

“You’re just so pretty,” he responds, not stopping his actions. You start to giggle when he attacks your neck. He’s about to take off your chunky necklace but you whine.

“Katsuki!” you whine playfully.

“Yes, my love,” he says and your heart skips a beat hearing those words. You cup his face in your hands and kiss him one more time.

“Darling, you promised after the dance,” you reminded him.

“I said later. Now is later, right?” he tried to play it smooth but you weren’t buying it.

“Shouldn’t we head out? I feel guests should be arriving any second and we should greet them, no?”

“Fine. But I want to show you the ballroom first,” he insisted.

“Hm? Why? I can see it later,” you told him, not seeing what he was trying to do.

“It’s a surprise,” he said and he led you to the ballroom with closed eyes.

When you opened your eyes for the first time, everything was so pretty, you were in awe. The room was so spacious, enough room for hundreds of people to dance. There were extra chandeliers hanging with red ribbon draped over every light. Some tables were set up for seating and crimson flowers, the same shade as Bakugou’s eyes, decorated every corner, every table top, every space you could imagine. It was truly a sight to behold. You had seen the ballroom being built and put together but you had never seen the final piece like this. Bakugou comes up behind you, proudly, as you continue to admire the room.

“It’s all for you. Everythingis for you,” he said. You turn around to look him in the eyes and they were filled with admiration and love. Kirishima and the other soldiers were there, looking at how in love you both looked at each other. It warmed their hearts and put a smile on all their faces. Before you could grapple in each other’s face once again, Bakugou’s second oldest brother, Katashi, makes his entrance, also dressed for the occasion.

“Ah, if it isn’t the main characters for today,” Katashi spoke up, bowing in the direction of Bakugou. “Your highness.” He addresses the Prince in a sarcastic tone as he always does. But when he looks at you, he doesn’t say anything and brushes you to the side, like he didn’t acknowledge you at all. You felt awkward and tension rise in the air. Looking to the side, you could tell Bakugou was irritated.

“You will not disrespect your future queen like that,” Bakugou says.

“Forgive me, your highness.” He apologizes in a nasty, rude tone. “But however shall I call this… lady?”

“You will address her as, ‘Your Highness’”, he ordered. But Katashi doesn’t do so.

“I don’t think I should be addressing a mere servant with such high status,” he retaliates. And your stomach drops. You feel like your ears are deceiving you. How does he know? Was he just saying that to be disrespectful? Or does he actually know the truth? But how? You were protecting this secret so well, there’s no way he would have found out. Your heart rate was picking up the pace and your palms started to sweat. You had to focus on your breathing because if you didn’t, you would be having a full on panic attack and then your cover would be blown. While you were feeling all these rollercoaster of emotions, Bakugou was furious and grabbed his brother by the collar.

“What did you fucking say?” he asked through gritted teeth. It was like his brother was asking to be punched in the face and Bakugou would gladly give it to him. Yet, his brother didn’t look fazed at all. He just smirked.

“Oh, dear brother. You didn’t know? She is not the real princess,” he points out. And if on cue, the realprincess walks out from her hiding spot, revealing herself to everybody. Anybody who sees her could tell that she was a real princess. By the way she walked and presented herself, she was the real deal. Bakugou didn’t look impressed but you could see his eyes wavering, like he was confused. Because to him, you were the real princess. Why would you lie to him? And how did you come here instead of the real princess? It didn’t help that you two looked almost identical to each other. There were only a small differences he could make out because he stared at your face for a bit too long when you were sleeping.

“How do you know for sure that’s the real princess? What if you’re just lying to be an ass?” he challenged but his brother laughed at his ignorance.

“Oh, silly brother. If only you went to all those parties like Father suggested instead of tending to those poor souls, you would know that that woman next to you in an imposter, and your fiancée is standing right next to me. I could tell from one look that that woman was just a poor servant,” he spat at you, making you flinch at his harsh words.

“Well go on, princess. Don’t make me wait for the show,” Katashi gave the real princess the floor with his cocky self. She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, looking down on you with all the hatred in her eyes.

“Bow,” she ordered. As if a spell had been cast upon you, you bowed until you were parallel with the ground.

“Your highness,” you greeted her. Shame. Shame was all you felt in that moment. Bakugou watched as you bowed down to this self-proclaimed princess and he couldn’t believe his eyes. Neither did anybody else. Because they were all watching. Kirishima. Sero. Kaminari. Mina. The other soldiers. The guards. The servants. They were all watching you get put into your place.

“You really thought you could get away with this. I trusted you to break off this engagement and now you’re here? Marrying him in my place? How did you not think you were going to get caught? Well how does it feel now? To be humiliated in front of all these people who think you are royalty. Only to be revealed as some lowlife peasant who serves, not to be served,” she hissed at you. Every word stung your heart because it was true. You were an imposter who thought you could get away with marrying an unattainable man you fell in love with.

Bakugou had heard enough. His eyes were dark and his heart was fueling with rage. He doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes your wrist and painfully drags you away into a room. He slams the door in anger and shoves you up against the wall.

“Katsuki,” you wanted to explain but he punches the wall next to you, making you tense up.

“Don’t fucking put my name in your filthy mouth,” he spits at you. And your heart breaks. Bit by bit, until a dull pain was left in place of your heart. But you had to keep preparing yourself because you know he wasn’t done there. You looked down at the ground, feeling put in your place, back as a servant. You couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore.

“You lied to me,” he breathed heavy, trying to maintain his cool but it was so, so hard.

“I was going to tell you,” you choked, barely able to get that sense out. The lump in your throat hurt so bad that you don’t know how you were going to speak.

“When? Until we were already married and start a family? Until I’m on my death bed? When? WHEN WERE YOU GOING TO TELL ME?!” he shouted, repeatedly hitting the wall. You were sobbing at this point, but you tried your best to keep it all together. For your own sake.

“When were you going to tell me?” he whispered, broken. Tears ran endlessly from your eyes and you shook your head, not knowing the answer.

“Everything we had was a lie. Everything I told you, was from my heart. And you just kept lying, and lying, and lying,” he talked to himself, turning away from you so he could narrate your whole relationship in his head. But you reached out to him. Despite you being in the wrong, you didn’t want to see him go. It couldn’t end like this. You wanted to explain. If he just let you explain, maybe, maybe things can turn around.

“Your highness, I lov-” you began but as soon as Bakugou heard those words, he became furious once again. He grabbed a dagger that was secured in his holster and threw it at you effortlessly. The knife landed right beside your head, barely slicing your cheek. Had he thrown it any closer, you would have been dead. But Bakugou was too confused in his feelings that he missed on purpose to let you live.

“Don’t you dare say that to me. I want you out of my sight, peasant,” his words stung like venom. Tears continued to pour out and before you knew it, servants were harshly tugging at the elegant clothes on your body until only white under garments were worn. You were escorted out of the palace with Bakugou not even sparing you another glance.

A/N: :)

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @melasnchz-things @animexholic @bkgwrites @sam-i-am-1025 @apexqueenie @katsukibabe @germfart3 @tspice283 @angie-1306 @bakugous-trauma @bakugousmrs @random-fandom-girl-24 @monetfatalia @triviajeongin @readingslumpfanfic @softredrobin @daddy-daichis @stardream14@spicysherlock @cathwritestragediesnotsins @luvtaromilktea @aaannaabbanana@i-ameri-cant @shyonigirichan @aomi04 @anime-for-live @maggiecc @cloudsgathering @backoftheletter @moshi-moshi-angie015

[peonyneko]

Didn’t Mean It | Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Request:  hello! I was wondering if you could do a Bakugou x Reader (if requests are open ofc❤️). Maybe Bakugou said something he didn’t mean to the Reader, and she like leaves the middle of class to go to the bathroom to cry- and like some of the girls go to comfort her/ask if she’s doing fine. But that doesn’t help- so Bakugou ditches class and goes to comfort her in the girls bathroom, and the other girls are like “cUtE”. Sorry if this made no sense but I thought it would be cute 😳. love your writing!

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@blveteaaa I’m really sorry for taking so long. Please do let me know if this is what you had in mind. I also appreciate any feedback. 

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Noise. The class was filled with noise, per usual. Mr. Aizawa was sleeping in the corner. Hm... Seems like he didn’t sleep well again. I wonder what night trouble popped up this time. Mina, Momo, and Uraraka were chatting away near me. The next class should start in about 30 minutes. Until then, Mr. Aizawa told us to complete the assignment and place it on his desk. Getting up from my seat, I head towards Katsuki, Eijiro, and Denki. To avoid disturbing them, I decided to wait behind them until they finished talking. 

“Yeah, I don’t get why that’s irritating,” Eijiro was facing Katsuki. His back was, currently, facing me, The other two immediately acknowledge my presence. Their eye widen and their shoulders tense up.

“Of course you don’t. She’s not with you,” he began. Was it about me?

“It’s especially when she wants to tag along on days I go out. It would’ve been better if she just stayed home. Damn it. It’s so irritating.”

Oh.. Huh. I felt my heart tighten at his words. The room got a little quieter. The light even seemed dimmer. After noticing the change in my demeanor, Denki coughs. Before the duo can say anything, I lift my finger to my lips. 

“Don’t look at me like that! You both act like you’re the ones dealing with it,” Katsuki’s ignorance of my presence did not help. With a heavy heart, I turn back around and walk back to my desk.

We were all occupied with our assignment. For this class, we were completing an in-class group assignment. Currently, I am sitting in front of Katsuki, with Mina and Tsuyu sitting on the side. I can already feel his irritation. He probably did not enjoy being forced into a group, especially with me. Normally, I’d feel chipper about it. However, after knowing how he feels, I felt that me presence was annoying. I decided to talk less to avoid agitating him. While the group talks, I write down their ideas for the work and jot down my own, as well. 

“You know this is a group effort, right?” I look up to see Katsuki’s eyes locked on me. I nodded. 

“Really? I haven’t heard any input from you for it, Becoming lazy, are we?” he words stung. MY face warmed from embarrassment. 

“Well, I... I was, uh, writing my ideas down with the groups in here,” I hesitantly lift my notebook. The room’s mood began to tense up. Slowly, the quiet room become quieter. 

“____... This is a group effort. Do you not know what that means? Share you damn ideas. God, he rolls his eyes, not noticing his voice made the class focus on our group. I could feel their eyes centering me. I attempted to tell my ideas but they went all over the place in my mind.

“Yeah, nevermind. You’re not helping with shit,” he interrupted. The warmth of my face was traveling down to my neck. My throat constricts a bit. I can feel inklings of anxiousness rising.

“That’s not nice to say,” Mina told him. He simply rolled his eye at her comment. Mina signals for Denki to come to our table. They both whisper between themselves. They eye Katsuki a bit so I assumed it was about him and I. Tsuyu looks at my nervous state and reassures that she’s there if I need to talk.

“Kaminari, since you’re here, why don’t you and _____ switch? Some braincells is better than none,” he chuckles. My mood worsens at his joke. Little tears were forming but they were unnoticeable. There class was still focused on us. Clearing up my throat, I get up from my seat. I slowly walk up to the front.

“Is it alright for me to go to the restroom?” my voice cracks when asking Cementoss. He nods in return, noticing the waviness in my voice.

As soon as I got permission, I run out the classroom. I hear a faint “ ___! You can’t run in the hallway,” which sounded like Iida. I don’t stop until the ladies restroom in in front of me. With heavy breaths I open the door and rush to one of the stalls. My eyes burned and tears began slipping down my cheeks. I tried to hold myself together but his words were playing on a loop.

Does he really think I’m irritating? What do I do that annoys him? Gosh, I need to stop it.

After a couple of minutes, I hear footsteps echo throughout the bathroom. Someone knocks on my stall’s door. Calming myself down, I open the stall to face all the girls in front of me. 

‘I swear boys can be really meaning without even trying,” Kyoka looked at me with soft eyes. Right when Ochaco step forward to hold my hand, the sting in my eyes return. I try to blind the tears away but it could not limit the amount that wanted to escape. My rigged breathing returns, which only worsens my embarrassment.

“I really...I really don’t mean to be... a bother for him,” I choked out in-between my heavy breaths. To give me space, they all gently pull me outside of the stall. Their eyebrows were slightly furrowed yet their eyes were soft.

“No. No. You are not at fault here,” Momo replies as she helps me sit down on the bench to the side.

“But I heard him say it. Gosh, I do sound irritating. I should stop tagging along too much. No wonder he returns angry.”

“You do not follow him anywhere. It isn’t all the time, either. You mostly go with him when you know you did not get to spend time together,” Tsuyu attempts to help me look at it from another perspective. Sadly, my mind overrides them to Katsuki’s complaints.

“W...What if he’s tired of me? What if he wants to break up?”

My heart hurt at the mere thought of our separation. Our relationship is relatively fresh. We started dating a year ago, yet I fell for him. Hard. I could not fathom to be with another guy.

“If I hadn’t been so dense about his irritations over my actions, I would been a much better girlfriend. I couldn’t even do that,” I was vomitting my mind out.

My breathing was still irregular, and I couldn’t see past the tears that blur my eyes. I wiped my cheeks and eyes to get a better view. The girls were trying their best to comfort me. Toru patted my back. Mina stroked my arm. Momo tried to plan out a mini recovery session from today. Tsuyu and Ochaco tried to convince me that he loves me enough to confront me about the situation. Kyoka even tried to make me revert my self-deprecating comments and thoughts. However, nothing helped. I really appreciated their kind attempts yet his words stayed printed at the front of my mind.

“I would love to battle Bakugou, right now. He needs to be held accountable for his horrible comments,” Momo exclaimed, standing tall with her right hand on her hip. 

“He does. He made a huge deal out of the group assignment. You were clearly stressed when you tried to share your ideas,” Kyoka looked disappointed when remember the incident in the classroom.

“But he doesn’t like having me around too much. I should stop. I don’t want him to be constantly annoyed,” I sniffled as I wiped my eyes. 

“I’m going to stop,” I whisper. I hear small mutters and grumbles throughout he bathroom.

“I won’t dicated you becuase it is your relationship. I do want to say that it is a part of who you are. You like spending time with him. You don’t need to stop that. I think you and him should talk about it,” Ochaco looks at me with his big, comforting eyes. The others nod in agreement. 

“I don’t know. I don’t want any more complications rising because of me. If he’s annoyed by me, I should try to fix it. I’ll need to sort this out myself,” I quietly announced.

Who gave you that right?” his rough voice echoes through the walls. All of you heads turn to the left. Katsuki, Eijiro, and Denki were standing next to each other near the entrance of the bathroom. 

“I didn’t think you overheard my conversation with those,” his points his rough finger at the duo behind him. 

I looked at him, unsure of what to say. Noticing my tense behavior, he talked as gently as he can, “ I did not mean to make you think horribly about yourself.”

“Yeah, you have traits and habits that are weird to me,” he started. A jolt spiked throughout my body. I don’t think I’m ready to hear the end of it.

 “But I like that about you,” he struggled to get the words out in public. My face flushes at the sudden confession. He looks directly at me.

“Never take issues, like this, on your own. I know how hard it can be but it’ll help us,” noticing that our conversation was getting private, the others began to hed back to class. It was almost the end of the school day, as well. Everyone waving and blurted a quick “bye” before heading out of the bathroom. 

Katsuki turns around to shut the door. He locks it to make sure no one walks in on our conversation.

“Come. Let’s sit there,” he tilts his head to the bench I sat at earlier. 

As soon as we sit, Katsuki exhales a loud sigh. Alarms went off in my mind. He’s irritated. I immediately began panicking.

“H..Hey, Katsuki. I really don’t mind leaving you on your own when you need it,” I started. I turn to face him but was suddenly embraced my his arms. He sets his chin on my neck and gently tightens his hug.

“Don’t... Don’t stop doing what you do,” he whispers near my ear. Warmth engulfed me. I felt safe in his embrace. His voice held no anger or irritation.

“But it’s irritating, isn’t it?” my hands wrap around his back, as well.

“No no no. It’s not. At least not the way you think. I complained to Kirishima and Kaminari about the perverts and jerks who stare at your and bother you when you come with me. That’s why I felt irritated,” he reveals. Then, it clicked. He must’ve noticed all the times I felt uncomfortable because of comments from boys and their stares. I never complained but... He noticed.

“I would rather have you stay back instead of dealing with those situations. I know you’re strong enough to take care of yourself. It’s still annoying when they don’t know their limits. I can’t even fight them properly,” he pulls back to look at me. I avoided his eyes but he lifted my chin up with his hand.

“Don’t stop doing what you do. Don’t stop being yourself. Having you with me makes my day better. I know I can be gnarly and cruel with my comments. Just don’t hesitate to tell me I’m hurting you. It’s not my intention to make you doubt yourself,” he rambles on.

“Even the cruel jokes I made back there are not meant from a serious place,” he reassures me as much as he can. His breathes were rigid and fast. His eyes were dilated, as well.

“Just... let me know, alright? I want you to feel safe and loved not hurt,” he whispered. With every sentence, my previous worries were fading away.

“Talk to me about anything that bothers you. Talk to me about any issues that come up.”

I couldn’t stop my heart from melting. He really is the best, huh?

“I know...I’ll try. You know me. It can be hard to confront people with anything I think is wrong,” I replied while taking his hand into mine. 

“Mhm. Let’s work on that then,” he firmly stated. It shocked me for a bit.

“If I say anything that hurts you, hold me accountable. Tell me right away,” he looks at me for an answer.

“Okay, ____?” I nodded in return. I noticed his stance was relaxed. He seemed less tense about the situation. It must’ve been a huge baggage to get off his back.

“I will. I’m sorry for worrying-” he cut me off before I could end my apology.

“Hey! Don’t feel sorry for it. You’re not at fault for feeling the way you did after the classroom incident. I was an absolute asshole for that. There may have been a small misunderstanding but I still shouldn’t have embarrassed you with my comments,” his hands cup my cheeks.

“I’m really... I’m really sorry,” my throat tightened. Why does he have to be this... great?

“I understand. Thank you for apologizing,” I smile at him. My emotions were all over the place today. It went from neutral to extremely low to extremely relieved. Still, I am glad he and I were able to sort this out before it got worse.

“Don’t go crying on me now. I don’t want to see anymore tears today. Come on let’s head back,” he spoke softly. 

Right after, stood up and held out his hand. His face held his usual daily expression, except there was a glow to it. I gladly laced my hands with his and we carefully exited the girls bathroom.

“Wouldn’t want to get you in trouble,” he said looking around to make sure no one saw our actions.

Today, Katsuki and I were able to have dinner together. It’s been a while since it was just the two of us eating dinner. Upon returning to the dorm, the atmosphere felt normal. The ones who were worried earlier looked glad when Katsuki and I entered the dorm happily. Mr. Aizawa did ask us about the situation. We informed him that everything was sorted so he let it go. Cementoss must’ve told him about the the classroom occurrence. 

While I made my way to my room, I noticed all of the girls in front of my room. Their eyes held excitement and the look of ‘hurry up’.

“You don’t need to tell us everything,” Mina grabbed me so I can quickly open my room. 

“Okay okay let me just,” after I heard the click, they all ran inside of my room. 

They all chose the spot they felt most comfortable in. I climbs into my bed and chuckled with embarrassment.

“Do I have to tell you what he said? Because...” 

“Well...” Momo began.

“I may or may not have bee made to create a device the let us hear what was going on,” my eyes widen at her confession.

“Don’t worry we promised to turn it off if anything... else... happened. We wanted to make sure he didn’t say anything horrible,” Kyoka spoke. The others nodded in agreement.

“His comforting action were too cute,” Mina chuckled.

“Exactly! I was shocked. Did you hear what he said?! ‘ Having you with me makes my day better.’ Aaahh! That- Just wow,” Uraraka gushed while quoting Katsuki. All of the girls flailed around or squished the pillow in their lap.

“Wait! Remember the...What was it? Right! ‘I want you to feel safe and loved not hurt’ That was so adorable, too, ” Momo immediately brought up another. Once again, the girls let out ‘awe’s and small chuckles. They did tease me about his words. However, they still appreciated that he was able to relive me of my doubts.

“I’m glad Bakugou cleared things up. That was very mature of him. You two are cute together. I really did not want the incident to separate you,” Tsuyu looked happy at my recovered state. 

“Me too,” Hagakure agreed. Next to her, I noticed Mina had a tiny bit of mischeif in her eyes. 

“How about we listen to the audio again?!” she suggested. A series of ‘yes’ echoed throughout the room.

“W-what?” my eyes widened.

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Mina continued.

“I have the a player for it, if we want to,” Kyoka held up the device to play the audio.

“And you can have it after we analyze and listen to it,” Momo added while exaggerating ‘analyze’ with air quotes. 

“Gosh... alright. I hope I don’t sound weird,” I agreed to their request.

As soon as Katsuki said, “Don’t... Don’t stop doing what you do,” Uraraka paused it.

“You can’t tell me he does not want to marry her,” she commented. Immediately afterward, the others made their own comments and agreements.

This process continued throughout the playing of the audio. With every pause, the were analyses and comments. Amongst all the chat about Katsuki’s soft side, I had the urge to check my phone. What I read immediately made the night better than it already was.

Katsuki: Let’s go out tomorrow. Wear whatever you feel comfortable in. 

Katsuki: Don’t worry about people staring. I’ll take care of it.

Katsuki: Unless you want to, of course.

Katsuki: The girls are making you tell them about what happened in the bathroom, aren’t they?

Katsuki: Anyways, make sure you get proper rest 

Katsuki: Goodnight

My hands quickly responded so I am able to reply before he sleeps. All those messages made me my stomach bubble with excitement. 

Me: I’m glad we’re going to hang out. See you in the morning

Me: Goodnight

Me: I love you

...

Katsuki: I love you too

The heat on my cheeks that gradually grew with every text grew tenfold. My heart fluttered intensely as I gazed at those four words. I can hear the girls speaking about the audiotape of Katsuki in the background, but my phone had my attention. Katsuki always proved to be a great boyfriend. He never did it for show. Ever since the start of our relationship he’s been honest about how he felt. Both of us expected stumbles, but we made sure to work it out. Today was one of those day.

I’m just glad he never let go of me. I know him well enough to know that he will always listen to me. He will always want to fix things so we don’t end.

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: September

Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!

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October 2020

"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.

"Sure, what's up?"

I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.

"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.

"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."

Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.

"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."

"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"

I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.

"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."

"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."

"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."

"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."

"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."

"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."

"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."

He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.

"I can't wait."

-

November 2020

Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.

Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.

By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"

"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."

"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."

"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."

He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.

"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."

"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."

I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.

Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.

"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."

Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.

"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"

I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.

"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."

"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."

His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.

-

When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.

"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."

"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."

I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.

He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.

After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.

My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.

"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"

"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."

"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."

He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.

"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."

"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."

He chuckled at that, but shook his head.

"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."

He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.

"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."

My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.

"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."

"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.

It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.

His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.

Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.

"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."

He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.

As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.

Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."

A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.

Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.

"How're you feeling?"

I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.

"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."

Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.

He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.

"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."

Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."

Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.

"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."

"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."

He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.

"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."

I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.

"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."

His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.

"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"

Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.

A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.

He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.

In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.

I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.

"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"

He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.

"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."

The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.

"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."

That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.

"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."

He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.

"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."

He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.

Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.

As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.

"Wait! Condom."

Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.

"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."

A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.

I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.

Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.

Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.

Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.

I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.

He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.

"See? Patience. It makes everything better."

I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.

"Shut up."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.

"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."

"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."

He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.

No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.

-

November [part two]

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

[hermannsthumb]

Maria. *Grabs your face* MARIA. I would LOVE to see 15 bobbing for apples from the autumn fic meme written by you. Nothing would delight me more!

Anonymous asked: Halloween prompt #15 please!!... "Bobbing for apples but we meet accidentally underwater lady and the tramp style." OR "I thought we'd have fun bobbing for apples but you actually hate it and are really mad now"

15. Bobbing For Apples

from autumn fic prompts here

KATE ❤️__ ❤️for you id write anything... and anon the lady and the tramp scenario is so fucking funny/good

---------------------------

It’s a really good thing that Hermann has Newt, because if Newt’s being honest, he has no damn clue what the poor dude would do without him. Work himself to death, probably. Or spend every Saturday night alone in his bunk. So depressing. Newt considers it his big charitable act of—well, of all time—to force Hermann into social functions, whether it's fun nights out at the bar (with Newt!), or down the hall a few feet for awesome movie marathons in Newt’s quarters (with Newt!), or something like tonight, which is a super awesome and fun Halloween party that, like, everyone on the base was invited to (including Newt!).

Hermann was all set to spend another night alone (probably changing the batteries in all his calculators or rearranging the hangers in his closet) when Newt dragged him out, more or less by the collar of his argyle sweater, with multiple threats to make his life a living hell the following week in the lab if he didn't comply immediately. "Seriously, dude," Newt had said, ominously, while Hermann looked at him like a furious cat ready to take a swipe, "you're gonna put in those vampire fangs and get drunk with me, or you're gonna regret it. I mean it." Newt was not opposed to blasting the shittiest depths of his Spotify account over his bluetooth speakers or using Hermann's favorite coffee mug to hold his dissection tools. Luckily for both of them, Hermann decided the risk wasn't worth it.

Newt knows Hermann is bound to recognize how selfless Newt is being and thank him for it eventually. Probably. Maybe a few years from now. For now, Newt is enjoying the warm and fuzzy feeling of having done a good deed, and also of drinking a considerable amount of spiked punch.

Hermann is not enjoying either.

"I did, in fact, have plans for tonight," he tells Newt, sipping his ginger ale and observing Newt with a fierce scowl. He flat-out refused the booze Newt tried to push on him. It's fine, whatever—it's enough for Newt, right now anyway, that he actually came. They'll work up to bigger stuff like that later.

"Like what?" Newt says. "Doing a crossword puzzle and watching the second half of that boring-ass documentary you put on last weekend?"

Newt considers it an affront to the very concept of movie nights that Hermann used his pick on a documentary, and one about the jaeger program that didn't even bother interviewing him, no less. Newt loves a good documentary, don't get him wrong, but movie nights are for escapist shit. You don't see him switching on Godzilla. Plus, having to watch stock footage of Dr. Gottlieb Sr. blabbing his mouth about how smart he was while you were debating making a move on his son (who was currently in you bed, looking super cute in your sweatpants, because he'd forgotten to pack pj's) was kind of a mood-killer. "It wasn't boring," Hermann sniffs, which tells Newt that his guess was dead-on. "It was...interesting. And anyway, just because they aren't your idea of plans..."

"Okay, whatever," Newt says. "Let's just have fun. That's the point of a party."

He throws an arm around Hermann's shoulder and drags him closer, until their heads knock together painfully. He hears Hermann growl low in his throat. Newt doesn't say, soon, we won't have the time to do stupid shit like this anymore, so we should enjoy it while we can, even though he wants to. It's better to not make fun stuff depressing. Plus, Hermann might decide to take that as an invitation to bail and put on his documentary. Instead he reaches up across Hermann and flicks his chin. Hermann's whole body stiffens. "I can't believe I got you into this super awesome party and you're not even pretending to be thankful," Newt says.

With no great deal of difficulty, Hermann pushes Newt off of him. Newt lands heavily back in his chair, making the whole thing wobble, and he laughs as he just manages to catch himself from falling off the other side. "You got me in?" Hermann says. "Newton, I was invited three weeks ago."

Newt stops laughing. "You were?"

"Yes," Hermann says. The corner of his lip twitches up, with a smugness so powerful Newt can feel it radiating off of him in waves. Bastard. "I took it upon myself to ask if you might be permitted to come, too." He adds, sarcastically, "Out of the kindness of my heart. I know how terribly put out you get when you aren't included in these sorts of things."

Newt considers this new information, and then discards it, because it really doesn't fit the image of himself he's been cultivating as the cool, hip friend to Hermann's uncool, unhip nerd. Like, come on, between the two of them, Newt is obviously the one you'd want at your party. Hermann's gotta be kidding. Probably. Maybe. "It's a lame party anyway," Newt mumbles.

He tries to put his arm around Hermann's shoulder again, remembers that Hermann really didn't like that the first time, and then drops it back down at his side instead. "Totally lame," he continues. Newt recalls the Halloween parties of his youth with a warm, fond glow: elaborate costumes, tacky decorations, passing around bowls of peeled grapes in the dark, carving jack-o-lanterns while his dad hovered protectively over him to make sure he didn't take a finger off with the knife. This is none of that. Barely anyone even dressed up! The lack of Halloween spirit is tragic. "There aren't even any party games."

"Yes there are," Hermann says, mildly.

He points across the room at a large metal tub that Newt somehow missed before. It looks like it's filled with water, and...

"Dude," Newt says.

He doesn't wait to ask before he's hopping to his feet and dragging Hermann along after him by his blazer cuff. Hermann swats at his heels a few times with his cane, but eventually—like he does with most of Newt's ideas—gives in. "I'm a fuckin' champ at bobbing for apples," Newt boasts. "I used to—oops, excuse me," (he runs into two guys who are, like, twice his height, upsetting their drinks, and he hears Hermann groan as something purple spills on his sweater), "I used to always win it at the fall fest when my dad would take me." And then when he went back as an adult by himself, but it was less impressive a win when you were up against a bunch of ten-year-olds.

"You do have an exceptionally large mouth," Hermann says, rubbing at his stained shoulder. "I suppose that helps." As Newt bends to investigate the iron tub, he says, "Oh, Newton, don't, it's been out all night. Who knows what sorts of germs are in there?"

Newt gets to his knees and rolls up the sleeves of his PPDC-issued labcoat. He's a mad scientist to Hermann's vampire (vampire librarian?) tonight. Yeah, it's kind of a lazy costume, but it was free—he already had everything he needed in the lab. "I can get it in five seconds, max," he declares. His record is one second, but he's the first to admit he's a little rusty, and he'd rather impress Hermann by beating his estimate. "Will you hold my headlamp?"

Grumbling, Hermann takes it. Newt sets his glasses on the ground. "You're going to get yourself bloody soaking," Hermann says, and then he complains about something else, too, but Newt is screwing his eyes shut and ducking his head into the tub, which makes it difficult to hear him. One second—two seconds—two and a half—Newt emerges victorious from the tub, teeth clenched down firmly on an apple, and accidentally splatters a large amount of water on Hermann's shoes. He pulls the apple out of his mouth with a grin and waves it at Hermann. "See. I'm a fucking pro."

He tucks his glasses back on his face to discover that Hermann is staring at him with a very strange expression on his face. Newt can't decide if it's the blacklight bulbs overhead that are washing him out and making him look so flushed, or something else entirely. Then, in a second, he's grumpy and scowling and tsking over his wet shoes. "A pro," he echoes. "Hardly. It can't be that complicated."

Newt gestures grandly at the tub and takes a bite out of his apple. Hermann can always be relied upon to never turn down a challenge, especially when it means making Newt look—potentially—stupid. Newt uses it to his advantage often. Whatever it takes to help the guy have a good time. "It's all yours, dude."

Hermann grumbles something again about Newt being too arrogant for his own good, and something else about showing Newt how to do it without making a mess of everything, then gets down to his knees with a quiet hiss of discomfort. He shoves his cane, and Newt's headlamp, at Newt, though bewilderingly leaves his blazer on. "I'll be just a moment," he says, and dunks his head into the tub.

He splashes back up no more than five seconds later. Apple-less. "Bugger," he coughs, and then coughs some more. The entire front of his sweater is soaked. "I didn't—I didn't start out right. Let me—"

Newt watches Hermann try to drown himself a few more times in mild interest before he finally intercedes. "Need a hand?" he says, getting to his knees next to Hermann.

"No," Hermann splutters.

Newt takes his glasses off again. "Yeah, you do. Okay, now watch me—"

He emerges with another apple in seconds.

Hermann grits his teeth. "Newton—"

"One more?" Newt says, his grin widening.

Back under. Another apple. He winks at Hermann when he goes in for a fourth time, and this time, he feels the water of the tank being upset as Hermann (refusing to be outdone once again) splashes in alongside him. God, Newt loves riling Hermann up like this—he gets so funny, and kinda cute, when he's mad about something. Red in the face, and scowling, and sometimes (when he's real mad) speaking in a dangerously low and rough sort of voice with his r's rolling that makes Newt shiver, just a little. Like, Newton, you worthless, pathetic little man, cease this immediately, or else I'll... He actually said that to Newt once. It made Newt feel a little warm under his collar. Hermann's probably going to say something similar to him this time, and Newt can't wait.

Ten seconds in. Newt has been cutting Hermann a little slack at first, just to see if he can catch up, but finally decides to just go for the apple that's been bobbing steadily against his mouth this whole time. (He loves beating Hermann at stuff.)

And, well, apparently Hermann goes for it too.

They both miss the apple. Newt's mouth is up against Hermann's for another five seconds before he realizes what's happening (that that is definitely not an apple, that that is definitely a mouth, that that mouth is wide and weird another to belong to only one person Newt knows, that that mouth is parting in surprise, oh my God) and then he pulls away so quickly that he breathes in what feels like half the tub of water. He falls back on his ass, coughing furiously, and it's not until he shoves his glasses back on with a shaking hand that he realizes that Hermann has done the same. "I," Hermann says. His eyes are wide. "I'm sor—"

"It's fine," Newt squeaks.

"It was—"

"I know!"

Newt and Hermann's mouths were touching for five whole seconds. Underwater, while apples bobbed against their foreheads, but their mouths still touched. Oh my God. In elementary school, Newt thinks dizzily, that would be enough to catch cooties. This was so not how he wanted his awesome eventual seduction of Hermann to go down. For one thing, it wasn't even a seduction.

"I'm gonna get a towel," Newt says.

Hermann nods. He looks strangely adorable with water droplets on his nose and his hair plastered to his head like that. Newt has to get out of here before he does something stupid, like take Hermann's pointy cheeks between his hands and put their mouths together on purpose. He doesn't think Hermann would respond to that very well right now.

"I'll get you one too," Newt says, and it takes a lot of effort to force himself to his feet.

Hermann nods again.

"Okay," Newt says, and stumbles away. Out of the corner of his eye, he just catches Hermann raising a hand to his mouth.

[merakiaes]

Worse Ways To Die - Oscar “Spooky” Diaz

s

Pairing: Oscar “Spooky” Diaz x reader

Requested: By @mrs-spookyd1az​

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: Possessive, cranky Oscar! Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes. Please let me know what you think, I hope that you like it xx

Wordcount: 3724

Summary: Ruby and Jamal can’t keep their eyes off of you at the pool and Oscar has too much fun with it. However, he doesn’t find it as funny when strangers look at you. 

The time Oscar had both dreaded and hoped for his entire life had come; his dad had been released from prison and come back home.

Cesar was, of course, over the moon to finally get to know his dad, but Oscar, being the one who had been first-hand abandoned to raise his younger brother, was furious and hurt. And you… Living with the Diaz brothers permanently, you didn’t really know how to feel.

The atmosphere in the house wasn’t at all what you were used to. It wasn’t playful and loving anymore. It was tense and hostile, and most of all confusing.

In an attempt to cut down the negative feelings you tried your best to be civil with Ray no matter how angry you were about how bad he had hurt Oscar, but still tried to keep him out of the loop as much as you possibly could in order to make things comfortable for your boyfriend.

He had only been home for a few days, and he and Oscar had already had more fights than you could count on two hands.

You tried your best to help resolve things and find a middle ground for them when they just refused to co-operate, but at the end of the day, no matter if you were the long-term girlfriend of Oscar, it wasn’t any of your business so you didn’t pretend like it was by getting yourself mixed up into their conflicts.

The only thing you could do was be there for him, open your arms to him when he needed you and listen to his rants and make sure he knew that his feelings were justified and validated.

He had been a lot less openly loving toward you since Ray’s return, but you knew it was only because he was still trying to figure out what to feel, and you knew it wasn’t because of you. He was tense and irritated against pretty much anyone these days, and you were the only thing keeping him from blowing up.

He wasn’t just angry that he had waltzed back into their lives as if nothing had ever happened, however. More than anything, he was jealous of the way Cesar looked at him, like he was some kind of hero, despite the fact that it was he who had given up in his dreams to raise him.

You really felt his pain when you had to watch him watch them interact. More than anything, you wanted to sit Cesar down and tell him all of the things Oscar had ever done for him and compare them to all of the things Ray hadn’t, but you knew you couldn’t do that.

He needed to figure it out on his own, even if the only way to do so meant he would get his heart crushed like Oscar had all those years ago. It wouldn’t be pretty, but it would be necessary.

Today was one of the few days Cesar wasn’t attached at the hip with his dad.

You and Oscar had been sitting around in the kitchen when Cesar had emerged from his bedroom dressed in a tank and short, with a towel slung over his shoulder, telling you he was heading for the pool.

And in a last-moment decision and desperate attempt to connect with his mano again – although he would never admit it - Oscar had decided that you would go with him. And it was a good idea, as it would mean Oscar could relax some.

So, now here you were, getting out of the car that you had just parked outside the pool.

Cesar was the first one to get out, barely even sparing you a glance before heading off, going ahead to meet up with his friends inside.

While he hurried away, you and Oscar took your time, hands intertwined and swinging slowly between your bodies as you walked toward the entrance at a slow pace, your things packed into a bag that was slung across Oscar’s shoulder.

To avoid having to change inside the locker rooms, you were already dressed in your bikini, having thrown on a simple tank top and a pair on top for the car ride.

Oscar was already dressed too, in his black swimming trunks, a pair of flipflops and a blank t-shirt, so the only thing inside the bag hanging from his shoulder were two towels, your book and sunscreen. You didn’t really need much more for a day at the pool.

A minute later, you were walking through the people inside, heading straight for the spot where Cesar and the others had set up camp.

Jamal and Ruby were sitting in sunchairs, seemingly handing out sandwiches in exchange for money. Jasmine was sitting in the sun and Monse was doing the same, although lying down on a towel, and Cesar was sitting beside her, now only dressed in his shorts.

Cesar wasted no time in raising a hand in a wave, smiling at you as you approached even though you had seen him only two minutes ago. His wave alerted the others of your presence, their eyes averting to you.

“Sup, fools.” Oscar was the first to talk, dropping the bag down on the ground a meter away from them, claiming the spot as yours and barely sparing them a glance as he opened the bag and grabbed the towels, starting to put them down on the ground for you.

While he busied himself with that, you took the time to greet them more properly, smiling at them and raising your hand in a wave. “Hey, guys.”

Jasmine and Monse greeted you from their spots and Cesar smiled, while Jamal and Ruby stared at you with looks that you could only describe as the ones the guys in high school used to give you when they overestimated their game when trying to get in your pants.

It was much cuter when it was Jamal and Ruby, though. They were younger than you and it wasn’t a secret that they both harbored some kind of horny teenage crush on you, something Oscar wasn’t all too fond of.

But you found it adorable, and amusing more than anything.

Jamal puckered his lips out slightly, without a doubt in an attempt to make himself more attractive, while Ruby gave you a confident head-nod, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. “Sup, mamita.” The overly cocky boy greeted you, and you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You knew he had the hots for you but that wasn’t at all what you had expected. Still, an amused expression fell upon both yours and Cesar’s faces as you exchanged a glance.

But Oscar didn’t find it half as amusing, looking up from the bag and raising a challenging eyebrow, dropping the bag again and standing back up to his full height. “You trying to move in on my girl, pequeño?”

Ruby and Jamal widen their eyes, share a glance before looking back to your boyfriend and shaking their heads violently.

“No, no, I wouldn’t even think about hitting on your girl, Osca- Mr. Spooky, sir. She’s yours.” Ruby quickly defended himself, and Jamal rapidly nodded his head.

“He would never!” He agreed.

Oscar gave them an amused smirk, nodding his head. “That’s right. She’s mine, and if I see you little putas checking her out-“

“We would never!” Jamal repeated, a feign shocked look on his face and their eyes as big as saucers at this point.

“No!” Ruby joined in. “We don’t even find her attractive!”

Jamal’s head whipped around to his best friend and his hand flew out to slap him on his shoulder as a disapproving sound left his lips.

Oscar’s eyebrows shot up, eyes narrowing into slits and his feet taking him a step closer to the two boys. “Are you calling mi reina ugly?”

Jamal let out a sound resembling a whine, pushing himself back into his chair while Ruby was left to fend for himself. “No!” He quickly denied. “She’s really hot! I mean beautiful, I mean, she’s not our type.” He cleared his throat toward the end, trying to play it cool.

“She’s everyone’s type.” A feign offended look overcame Oscar’s face again, causing the panic to return to Ruby and Jamal’s in an instant.

“I-“

You couldn’t deny the exchange was funny as hell to witness, your boyfriend’s teasing making it hard for you to keep your laughter in. But you managed to hold it back in the end and hit him in the back of his head at the sight of the genuinely terrified looks on their faces, swallowing your laughter.

“Oscar, stop messing with them.” You scolded in a lighthearted manner and he turned to you, giving you a smirk while the two boys were still looking about ready to piss themselves.

They didn’t relax until Oscar turned his back on them, turning his attention elsewhere. 

He grabbed the end of his tank top and pulled it over his head without another word, sitting down on one of the towels, the one closest to the boys.

You followed his example and sat down, still dressed in your clothes, and grabbed the sunscreen from the bag, popping the lid open and nudging your boyfriend’s arm.

“Turn around.” You instructed, causing him to turn his head to look at you.

He spotted the pink bottle in your hand and instantly shook his head, turning his head back forward stubbornly. “No. You’re not putting that shit on me.” He refused. “It smells like flowers.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored him, pouring some into your palm and rubbing your hands together. “You know you burn easily.” You argued. “Stop being a perra and turn around, or I’m leaving.”

Glancing at you, he scoffed, but didn’t protest any further, turning his back to you. “Puta.” He swore.

In return, you slapped your sunscreen-covered hands onto his back, smirking when he flinched from the cold. “Pendejo.”

“Pineapple.” Came the voice of Jamal from beside Oscar and the two of you, along with everyone else, turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, causing him to look around at you, confused. “What? I thought we were naming things starting with P.”

“Idiot.” Cesar laughed and you just shook your head, starting to rub the sunscreen into the skin of Oscar’s back, shoulders and arms.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but despite the fact that the lotion smelled like an old lady, he enjoyed the feeling of your hands kneading his tense muscles. His eyes closed and his forehead leaned on his arms that were in turn resting on top of his knees.

Once your hands were close to dry and every inch of his upper body had been covered, you pressed a kiss to his neck and turned to his younger brother who was sitting a small distance away with a smile.

“Do you want me to do your back, too?” You asked, the motherly instinct coming automatically at this point. You had, after all, helped care for him ever since you met Oscar.

Cesar smiled and nodded his head. “Sure.” He said and stood up, walking over to where you were sitting.

You scooted back to make room for him in front of you on your towel and smirked at Oscar, who was already looking at you, when his little brother sat down with no protest.

You raised an eyebrow. “You see that?” You asked, squirting some more sunscreen into your palm and repeating the procedure. “Your brother doesn’t complain like a little bitch.”

Oscar shook his head in annoyance, standing back up. “Whatever. I’m hitting the pool. You coming?” He looked down at you, and you shook your head with a smile, not taking his attitude to heart.

“I’ll be there in a bit.” You promised, finishing putting the sunscreen on Cesar and putting the bottle back down into the bag. “I want to lay in the sun for a bit first.”

He nodded his head, leaning down to give you a quick peck to the lips before walking away. 

Cesar stood up too, going back to his spot beside Monse, and you took that as the perfect time to undress, standing up and beginning to unbutton your shorts.

Beside you, Ruby’s hand immediately flew down to his crotch where he adjusted his shorts, his eyes flickering between you and the pool repeatedly. “Oh no, it’s happening.”

Jamal, also trying his hardest to avert his gaze hit his friend upside the head. “Control yourself, be strong!”

But he was fucked too when he glanced back to you only to see you pulling your tank top over your head, your stomach toned as you stretched your arms up, the real goods being revealed. 

“Oh no.” He whimpered, and Jasmine glared at them from her spot.

“You guys, don’t be disrespectful.” She scolded them in a hushed voiced, keeping it low as to not draw your attention where you were now busying yourself with smearing sunscreen over your chest.

The two boys didn’t even seem to hear her, their mouths falling agape and their eyes widening at the sight. 

Cesar watched the scene unfold from his spot, shaking his head with amusement, knowing that his brother would quite literally kill them if he came back right then.

So he took matters into his own hands, deciding to protect his eventually-to-be sister-in-law from the prying eyes of his friends by throwing one of his flipflops at them, causing them to look at him just as you turned your attention back to them.

“Who wants to do my back?” You questioned with a bright smile, holding the bottle up for all to see and being completely oblivious to what had just been happening.

Jamal and Ruby were up on their feet in no time, their hands stretching into the air. “Me!” They spoke simultaneously, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“I’ll do it.” Cesar stood up before they could say anything else, walking over to where you were standing and shoving his friends back into their seats as he passed them.

You thanked him when he took the bottle from you, pulling your hair over your shoulder and holding your arms over your breasts to keep your top in place as Cesar undid the knot at your back and wasted no time in starting to put on the sunscreen.

He was pretty much the only one who could touch you without Oscar throwing a fit, he knew, so even though they would be mad at him for a week for robbing them of the opportunity to touch you, he had just done them a huge favor.

Lifesaving, really. 

Once he finished doing your back, he tied your top back up and you adjusted the front before turning to smile at him. “Gracias.” You thanked him, kissing his cheek, and he nodded with a smile of his own.

He only got the time to make his way back to his original spot before you were approached by some other guy, the stranger waltzing up to you with pure confidence in his step.

Kind as you were, you smiled at him, thinking he was just going to pass by, but instead, he stopped right in front of you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“Yes?”

The guy raised a hand to scratch his neck, looking at you from through his sunglasses. “I’m sorry if this is extremely forward but I saw you from across the pool and just thought you were so beautiful, I couldn’t stay away. Would it be possible to get your number?”

He flashed a near-flawless smile, but of course, it wasn’t Oscar’s. Now, his smile could make you weak at the knees.

You offered him a sad smile back. “No, I’m sorry. I have a boyfriend.” You answered. “But I’m flattered.”

Letting people down was always hard for you. Not because you were interested or felt bad for them, but because you hated being put in awkward positions. Luckily, this guy didn’t seem to be a creep, but rather a decent human being, which always made things easier.

His face fell. “Oh, damn.” He swore, letting his hand drop from his neck. “Where is he now then? Your boyfriend, I mean.”

“He’s… around.” You told him, not even sure yourself. The place was crowded on this hot day and he could have been anywhere. “And he’s really protective so you should go before he comes back.” You added, knowing that Oscar would make a bigger deal out of it than needed if he came back and found you talking to some other guy.

And just your luck, he chose just this time to return, his form appearing behind the guy and heading straight for you, a glare already resting on his face and his fists clenched at his sides, showing you that he had already caught sight of you.

“Yeah, actually you should go right now.” Jamal agreed with a nervous laugh, looking behind him.

As everyone else’s eyes also found Oscar’s quickly approaching form, the guy you still hadn’t learned the name of turned around too, eyes growing wide with anxiety as he caught sight of the tall and muscular cholo coming straight for him.

“Who’s this?” Oscar wasted no time in getting up in his face as he reached you. “Who are you? Were you talking to my girl? Because we’re gonna have a problem if you were, blanco.”

You hurried to step in between them, the guy taking a step back out of fear. “He was just leaving.” You told him, holding him in place.

The guy nodded his head, agreeing with you and taking another step back. “Yeah, man. I’m sorry.” He turned to you then, offering you a quick nervous smile. “It was nice to meet you.”

Returning his smile, you nodded, fastening your grip on Oscar’s arms as he jerked forward slightly. “It was nice to meet you, too. Bye.”

And with that, he turned around and walked away. 

Oscar’s eyes followed his form all the way until he was out of his line of sight, and once he was gone, he tore himself out of your grip, his body dripping with water.

“Nice to meet you, huh?” He questioned with a glare. “You interested in other guys now?”

You only rolled your eyes, far too used to his jealous behavior. And it was even more understandable now with the anger he was building up with his dad being back. “Calm down. I’m not worried about you having side chicks so you shouldn’t either.”

“Bitch, the only side chicks I’ll ever have is your other personalities.” He fired back.

“Funny.” You glared, not batting an eye at the insult. “Calm down before you do something you regret.”

He glared back, taking a step closer to you and taking you into his arms. “I think I might need some motivation not to kill anyone.” He said, nuzzling his face into your neck.

The glare on your face instantly fell and a chuckle left your lips at the feeling of his beard tickling your skin. “I can’t fuck you if you’re in prison, papi.” You answered, hands coming up to hold on to his upper arms while his roamed your waist, the two of you not caring in the slightest that you were in public.

Ruby and Jamal watched from behind you, now munching on a sandwich each in a desperate attempt to keep their cool, eyes wide as your words reached their ears.

“God, that’s hot.”

Oscar’s face instantly whipped up from your neck, eyes landing on Ruby at the sound of his voice, the two boys jumping in their seats and letting out sounds of surprise.

But you were right behind him, raising one of your hands to grab a hold of his chin and turning his head to look at you with a glare. “What’d I tell you, huh? Leave them alone.” You instructed, feeling his body tense against yours.

You leaned in and pecked his lips chastely, moving your hands to his where they were resting on the small of your back and prying them away, taking them in yours.

“Let’s go for a swim.” You said, and he said nothing, simply letting you drag him away from the younglings.

As you walked away, his hand found its way down to your ass, squeezing the flesh while glaring at Jamal and Ruby over his shoulder.

The two of them watched with wide eyes, unable to tear their eyes away from his no matter how scared they were, and their eyes only widened further when Oscar raised his other hand to his eyes and used his pointer and middle finger to do an ‘I see you’-gesture at them.

Noticing what he was doing, you slapped his chest and forced him to turn back forward, and only then did Ruby and Jamal let out the breaths they had no idea they had been holding until then, the sight causing Cesar to break out into laughter.

They turned to him, both of them sporting a furious glare each. “How can you be laughing right now?!” Ruby exclaimed, eyes struck with fear. “He’s going to kill us!”

Cesar only nodded as his laughter died down to an easy chuckle, his eyebrows raising in agreement. “If you keep looking at (Y/N) like she’s a piece of meat then yeah, probably. And it won’t be painless.”

“Oh, man.” Jamal cried, forcing the entirety of the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, causing the rest of his words to come out muffled. “I’m too young to die.”

For the first time that entire time, Monse, who had been sunbathing peacefully on her towel alongside Jasmine, sat up and removed her sunglasses, looking at them.

“Well, there’s a simple solution.” She deadpanned, holding herself up on her elbows.

Jamal and Ruby turned to her with a mixture of doubt and desperation in their eyes, asking. “What?”

She simply shrugged her shoulders, giving them a sarcastic and annoyed smile. “Just don’t look.” She answered, and with that, put her sunglasses on again and laid back down, leaving the boys to look at Cesar, who simply gave them a shrug and grin in agreement.

They knew it was the only solution, but for two horny teenage boys, keeping their eyes to themselves was easier said than done, and at second thought, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst way to die.

[mitchychaos]

If She was an Angel, He was a Demon (Ch. 1)

Pairing: Suna Rintarou x reader (University AU)

Word Count: 1423

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

[A/N: This is the first chapter of this fic! I’m currently unsure of how many chapters it will have, but if I come to a decision I will be sure to let all of you know! If you have any recommendations on how to improve the writing, what you liked, what you would like to see, feel free to shoot me a message!]

Chapter 1

           Y/N spent most of her time in the library studying thoroughly for her classes, making sure she would be able to pass them. Like was mentioned earlier, her classes and her future were her biggest priority. She didn’t care much for the parties, the games, and Greek life.

Her roommate, however, had gotten deeply invested into all those things. RM/N had already found herself starting relationships, ending relationships, going to parties, games, and anything else that came up.

Y/N had approximately two people she talked to frequently: her roommate, and a boy she met at the library, Kita. Kita was a quiet boy, and he frequently sat beside her in the library. She liked Kita; he was a nice guy. A bit stoic, but nevertheless a friend to her. They spoke about classes, clubs, and things of the like while studying beside each other. She knew he was on the school’s volleyball team, and a year older than herself; but other than that, not much about anything in his personal life.

“Are you alright Y/N, you look a bit out of it,” Kita spoke up, glancing at her as he did. She glanced up and lifted her head out of her hand.

“Oh yeah, I just got a bit distracted is all.”

“You probably need sleep. You look tired.”

She did need sleep. Kita didn’t know, but after Y/N stopped studying at the library with him, she would return to her dorm to continue. Typically, by the time she got back to her dorm her roommate would be out of it. She could study in peace and allow herself to truly focus there.

“I can drive you home. I know it’s a long walk from here to the dorms.” Kita spoke up again at the lack of her response.

“Oh- I couldn’t possibly ask you to do that. That would just be me being lazy,” as she responded she waved her hands in front of her face.

“No, its fine. Let’s go.”

The two of them walked out of the library and towards Kita’s car after gathering their things up. Y/N yawned and covered her mouth with her arm, before turning her head in the direction of someone calling Kita’s name. She was surprised to see three boys walking in their direction, one of them being that jackass that hit on her in the laundry room.

“Kita! We didn’t know you would be on campus today!” the blonde called out, waving his arm above his head.

“I’m on campus every day. I was at the library.”

“Oh right. Studying,” the blonde responded before setting his eyes on Y/N, “Hi, are you friends with Kita? I’m Atsumu.”

“Nice to meet you Atsumu, I’m Y/N.”

“Behind me is my twin Osamu, and our friend Suna. We’re Kita’s teammates,” he added, waving his hand behind him gesturing at each boy respectively.

Y/N could tell that Atsumu and Osamu were twins. That much was obvious; the only difference in between them was their hair color. She gave Osamu a small smile and a wave, then gave Suna a quick nod before looking back at Kita and Atsumu. She didn’t want to make it seem like she knew who Suna was. She doubted he remembered her, considering their conversation happened in the first week of school.

“Kita if you want to talk to your friends, I’m really fine just walking back to my dorm,” Y/N spoke up again. Not only did she not want to be around Suna anymore than she had to, but she also didn’t want to be a hassle for him.

“No, it’s alright I will see them later anyway.”

Kita didn’t really give his teammates a goodbye, just turned around and started walking to his car once again. None of the three boys seemed offended but Y/N thought it was a bit cold. She followed him, waving after the three boys as she did so.

She was comforted by his quietness though; it was nice to be able to just think about what had happened. Talking about it was not an option that she wanted to do. It also meant that he hadn’t noticed that she had already known Suna prior to today.

Kita dropped her off at her building, and she thanked him for his kindness before walking inside. She took the elevator up to her room, unlocked her door, and went inside. A small sigh of relief left her mouth and she flopped down on her bed. Maybe she was more tired than she realized. She was about to close her eyes when she heard the door unlock and her roommate walk into the room excitedly.

“Y/N! You have to come with me to this party tonight! It’s going to be so much fun, the volleyball team is throwing it and there is this cute guy- “

“RM/N… I told you that I don’t do parties, I have so much to do. And besides I’m exhausted.” Y/N rolled onto her side to look at the other girl, who was currently taking her hair out of the bun it was in.

“Oh, come on! It’s just one party, and you never go to them with me. Why don’t you just try this one and if you don’t like it when we get there we can leave.”

Y/N sighed, before rolling onto her back once again. She supposed that it couldn’t kill her to go out to a party tonight. She liked parties in high school, but again high school was a lot easier than university. However, it was also Friday, she didn’t have any classes tomorrow, or assignments that needed to be turned in. She could just let loose for the night and have a good time.

“Is it going to be a big party?” Y/N asked sitting up and stretching. She didn’t want to see Suna. He gave her an uncomfortable vibe, but if it was a big party, she doubted she would even see him.

“Yeah, it’s going to be pretty big. I don’t really know.”

“Alright I’ll go.” Y/N got up from her bed, feeling a bit more awake and excited now that she had something to look forward to tonight. Both of the girls started getting ready together, fixing their makeup, and helping each other choose outfits to wear. Y/N felt pretty good about her outfit, it had been a while since she had gotten dressed up to go out. It was a nice change.

Y/N and RM/N drank a little before they left. Not enough for either of them to be too intoxicated, but just enough to have a buzz before entering the party with a bunch of people. It was just the status quo. No one wants to enter a party completely sober; it was just a lot to take in that way.

The house that they went to was already packed once they walked inside. Music was blasting from a speaker somewhere, and the lights were off. The only things that were illuminating the room we small colored lights that moved around the room, never staying in the same place. It was loud, but exciting.

The two girls moved towards the middle of the room, each getting handed a drink on the way from a dark-haired boy. Y/N opened hers, taking a sip while moving her hips to the music once they had found a free spot. Y/N was having a good time, just singing along to the music, and laughing with her friend.

“Y/N there’s the guy! The one I was talking about!” RM/N yelled over the music, pointing at Atsumu, the boy that she had met earlier that day.

“Why don’t you go talk to him?” Y/N also yelled over the music while nodding.

“Yeah you’re right!”

Y/N watched as her roommate walked over to the blonde starting up a conversation with him. They both looked like they were having a good time. Which was enough indication for Y/N that she didn’t have to keep her eyes on them to make sure nothing happened.

“You’re the last person I expected to show up to one of these doll,” a deep voice whispered in her ear, hot breath fanning over her shoulder and back, causing the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She flushed red, and glanced at the person over her shoulder.

[the-only-ace]

can you please write something about taem's enlistment? honestly feel awful i feel like he's lowkey sad about it i just wanna give baby cheese a hug :(

haiii i love this request since it is really well... timely (?). i have been planning to finish this request before taemin's enlistment but yeah, here we are... things been busy. so i hope this one is not that late and may this be some sort of comfort for everyone as we wait for our baby cheese's return.

serve well and always take care, taem! we will be just here and wait for your return with bright smiles on our faces.

taemin scenario: looking forward

pairing: taemin x reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: it is taemin's last few hours before his military enlistment and reader tries their best to ease his worries. both are making sure that they have spent the remaining time together to the fullest.

warning: semi-nudity, implied sexual activity (no smut thought)

send in your requests here!

your eyelids slowly fluttered open and soft rays of sunlight greeted your still adjusting eyes. you attempted to rub the sleepiness away from your eyes before slowly sitting up. your raised both of your arms above your head and stretched with a small grunt. the sheets fell down and exposed your naked torso to the cool breeze from the air conditioner. you looked at your side and smiled gently. you rested your cheek on your bended knee and gazed at the sleeping figure beside you.

taemin was sleeping soundly on his chest and the blanket was comfortably wrapped around his hips while his broad bare shoulders were displayed to you. his head was tilted to the side, facing your direction. his eyes were closed with a hint of dark circles visible underneath them--a sign of his hard work within the last few months. his lips were slightly parted and you can hear his soft breaths. his hair that used to be unruly as they got ruffled by the pillows was now cut short. you can't help but reach out and touch them with your cold fingers.

there he was, the love of your life. it may sound cheesy and a bit cliche but it was true. he was your first boyfriend and you were more than pleased that you're still together given how young you both were when you met years ago. you went through a lot of ups and downs like every other relationship out there. it was also challenging at first especially with the nature of his work since he can not fully dedicate his time to you. you eventually got over it mainly because you knew how important and passionate he was with his career. every after his performances, you can see his eyes lit up and his lips stretched into a big bright smile. it was then you knew you have to support this man. you have to be his rock when things got shaky and unstable.

you two actually hit a big milestone in your relationship quite recently. you were living with him for more than a year already and both of you were still amazed how no media outlet has sniffed it out yet. also considering the number of times taemin recorded a live video around the apartment, you're just thankful there were still no accidental reveals.

your train of thought was cut short when taemin suddenly stirred on his position. "sorry, did i wake you?" you asked softly as you retracted your hand away from his hair.

he shook his head before dragging himself towards you. his arms found their way around your waist and his head rested contently on your lap. you smiled at his behavior and then proceeded to stroke his hair again. both of you stayed like that for a bit and soaked into each other's presence while waiting for the drowsiness to pass.

"is it weird?" his muffled voice broke the silence after a few minutes.

"what is?" you inquired back.

"my hair." he rolled to his back and looked up at you.

"it's... new." of course it was, just a few days ago you were happily playing with his hair and extensions. he always allowed you put it up into a bun whenever he came back home. now, you can barely grip them with your fingers. "it's not weird, just new. it actually made you look younger in my opinion." you reassured him with a small giggle.

he frowned and groaned, clearly displeased on your response. he thought you were just lying to make him feel better. he won't believe you anyway even you deny it so you decided to ignore his sulking. you then began drawing lazy shapes across his skin while he started to hum one of his songs. your fingers eventually linger around his tattoos and you can't help but admire them.

"should i get one?" you muttered more to yourself actually but taemin heard it very distinctly. it made him shot up from the bed and beamed at you widely.

"you should!" he exclaimed excitedly. '"i mean if you really want to. we can even go to my artist and get one together."

"okay, calm down, mister." you chuckled since was almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "where should i place it though?"

"well... it would look nice here." he reached out and touch your rib area. his eyes soon landed on the red mark beside his index finger and a playful smirk slowly made its way to his lips. "or here..." he continued and moved his pointer on your collar bone, on another one of his marks. "here would be good too..." he went on and on while pointing out all of his work while his grin grew bigger and naughtier.

"stop..." you rolled your eyes and push his hand away. "i know what you're doing. someone went overboard last night." you can't help but narrow your eyes at him. it would be a pain to hide later when you go to work.

"i'm sorry, i just thought they would be a great parting gift." he shrugged before leaning closer. "so did you like it?" he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"eh... it's alright, i guess." you teased with a joking scowl.

"well, that can be fixed easily." he tackled and pinned you down in the bed, making you let out a high-pitch scream. he wasted no time on littering quick kisses all over your neck. you writhed under him as you attempted to escape him since you were feeling ticklish from his soft lips.

a blaring alarm noise interrupted your noises and movements. taemin pushed himself up and looked at the clock on your bedside table. he took a deep heavy sigh before dismissing the alarm. you immediately felt the change in his mood as he got up from the bed.

"i'll go brew us some coffee," he announced and got out of the bedroom.

it was now your turn to sigh. you already tried your best to ease his worries yesterday but just like you have predicted he was still troubled. you can't blame him though, after doing only one thing ever since he was only 12 years old, you get why he was anxious about this upcoming change. not to mention that he will be going through this alone in a way. his other members enlisted at the same time so the thought of someone experiencing the same helped them get through it much easier.

you got up and walked towards the chair near the bed and snatched taemin's shirt that was carelessly hanging from its backrest. you pulled it down your head and you can't help but smell his scent; it was his favorite shirt after all. god, you were going to miss him so bad.

you followed taemin towards the kitchen and the aroma of the coffee greeted you. he looked at you from head to toe and it made him smirk. he knew how much you love stealing his shirts. it was quite comforting to know that at least his clothes will be used even though he was away.

preparing breakfast was peaceful and intimate. taemin was hugging you from behind while you cook your meal; outrightly ignoring your protests since it was not really easy to move around with him clinging to you. in a few minutes, both of you are sitting down at the dining table and quietly enjoying the hot food in front of you.

it felt like a normal lazy morning. days like these were common after his promotions. it was when he has some time to rest and replenish his energy. those were the days you always anticipate since you were able to see him more often and spend more quality time together. if he didn't have a buzz cut, it was easy to fool yourself that this day was one of those.

"do you think, i'll do well?" he suddenly asked when he placed his chopsticks down.

"of course," you quickly replied without missing a beat. no matter how many times you convinced him already, you will never get tired of doing it if that will give him peace of mind.

"what makes you say so?" he looked up and met your unwavering eyes. "what if i'm not fit for it?"

"and what if you are?" you challenged. "look, we'll never know something unless we try it but trust me, knowing you, you'll do just fine. they used to criticize your singing career back then and look where you are now. you don't let external factors affect you and you always work hard to achieve your goals. so what makes this different? i know once you set your heart to something, you'll be able to do it. you just have to trust yourself as well."

"always saying the right words," he sighed and rested his head on his hand. "what will i be without you?"

"still probably as great as you are now." you knew that taemin achieved his success on his own. all those late-night practices and sacrificing a normal life as a teen, it was all him. you were only his supporter who hopefully made the process a bit easier. "besides, you crushed the obstacle course in dream team last time so i believe the drills will be manageable for you." you cheekily added.

"wow, you still remember that? i'm no minho though." he shook his head while chuckling.

"no one's like that competitive monster." you scoffed.

"yeah..." he trailed off, obviously being concern about another matter again. "i hope our fans won't forget me."

"don't be stupid." you frowned and kicked him lightly under the table. "of course they would wait for you especially after being their comfort when the other members were serving their time. i'm sure that they would be counting the days for your return and they would be delighted to see you again. although, no one would be more thrilled than me so... don't forget me as well."

"how can i forget you if i will be thinking of you every single day?" he stood up and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "thank you."

"for what?" you inquired.

"for always being there especially when i need it the most." his tone was warm and heartfelt. "i should probably take a shower now."

you nodded and listened to his footsteps disappear into the bathroom. as soon as you heard the water running, you stood up as well and placed the plates on the sink. you then went back to your shared bedroom and doubled check the contents of his black backpack, making sure that he did not forget anything important. knowing him, there was a huge chance that he does. you also added a few extra clothes and toiletries just in case he did something stupid and end up breaking or losing some of his stuff.

it felt wholesome to pack his things for him. as if you were his wife helping him prepare for his upcoming trip. if only the trip wasn't going to be 18 months long.

the time flew by quickly after taemin's shower and suddenly you were by the doorway, watching him wear the straps of his backpack. you handed him his black baseball cap before fixing the strings of his black hoodie.

"you all set?" you asked trying hard not to make your voice crack. it was finally sinking in for you and you didn't want him to know that.

"yeah," he nodded as he fixed his cap.

both of you stood there, not really knowing what to do or say next. you should probably wish him luck and send him off but you don't want to. not yet, you keep on repeating to yourself. sensing your dejection, taemin suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into one of the tightest hugs he has ever given. your hands quickly wrapped around him and you buried your face on his chest, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize it--even though you already do.

"i'm going to miss you," he whispered tenderly. "so much."

"i will miss you too." you finally let out the sob you were holding back. thinking that it was impossible, his embrace tightened even more around your shaking frame.

he kissed the top of your head and murmured how much he loves you again and again. right then and there, you wanted to be selfish and don't let him go, and as if on cue his phone started to ring. he answered it and their conversation was less than a minute but you know exactly what it was about.

"they're downstairs already," he stated as he let go of you.

"you should not keep them waiting then." you clumsily wipe away the tears in your eyes.

you both bid your goodbyes before sharing one last kiss. he then got out of the apartment and closed the door behind him.

and just like that, you were left there in complete silence. you blankly stare at the closed door and you never felt more alone in your life.

you were about to turn around when the door burst open without warning. standing there was taemin who unmistakably ran back considering his heavy pants.

"taemin?!" you exclaimed from the shock. "what, did you forget something?"

"yes, i forgot to ask you something." he exhaled. "i forgot to ask you to marry me," he said in full seriousness while staring straight into your eyes.

"y-you... what? huh?" you fumbled with your words as your brain tried to process whatever he just said. "w-what did you say? i don't--" you attempted to ask again.

"when i get discharged, will you marry me?" he repeated as he moved closer towards you. you just gaped at him without saying a word and that made the nervousness slowly crept into him. "sorry, i was not able to get a ring since this was... well, spontaneous. but um... here, will this do?" you watched him remove the ring he was always wearing on his right hand. he unceremoniously raised it in front of you and waited for your reply.

you were beyond stunned. sure, you both talked about getting married someday but you didn't think he would propose today. you always knew that when he planned for the special day, you will easily catch on. he was not really the best planner and secret keeper after all. nothing has prepared you for this moment.

"y/n?" he cautiously called out, getting a little concern from your lack of response.

you looked away from the ring and moved your eyes to meet his uneasy ones. he was undoubtedly waiting for your answer.

"yes," you barely managed to blurt out. "yes, of course, i do!" you repeated, this time firmer.

you have practically seen the weight off his back after hearing your response. he broke into a tiny celebration dance before composing himself again and sliding the ring into your finger.

"okay... i didn't think about that part." the ring was big for you which was not surprising. "sorry, i'll just get you a new one soon." he embarrassingly rubbed the back of his neck.

"it's alright, it's perfect." you can now feel another urge to cry but this time it is out of happiness.

"i love you," his expression soften and one eyebrow raised up, a habit of his whenever he says something genuine. he titled your chin up and captured your lips for a passionate kiss. you stand on your tiptoes in your attempt to deepen the kiss which made him smile. his other hand moved to your lower back and pulled you closer to him while you ran your fingers through his hair. it felt right, both of you know exactly that this is where you two belong--with each other.

however, your little heaven was interrupted once again by the ringing of his phone.

"okay, you should definitely go now." you ultimately let go of your hold around him.

he nodded. he knew he cannot delay his departure any longer. "goodbye."

"goodbye," you echoed. "just for now."

he waved his hand before going out and shutting the door. this time though, he did not come back running. you knew he was on his way to his enlistment and you would be alone in the apartment for months but right now, you did not feel that lonely anymore.

you looked down and adored the ring around your finger. 18 months would indeed move slowly but it will be bearable because this time, both of you have something to look forward to.

[amygdalagustd]

Kim Namjoon on Identity

Namjoon explores the concept of identity time and time again in his life and in his music. He tends to focus on how different parts of himself might be in conflict with each other, and the tensions and confusion that goes with that experience. People are filled with duality, sometimes to the point that it tears us apart. The question of “who am I?” seems a simple one, but underneath it lies a lot of complexity. Who do I want to be? Who do other people want me to be? How much of my identity is formed by my past? Can I change who I am? Can I be multiple things at the same time? Who is the real me? What does it even mean to be the real me?

The question of “who am I?” seems to both fascinate and terrify Namjoon. In this essay we will tackle the question together as I explore all the different ways that Namjoon contemplates identity in lyrics and interviews.

From his decision to become a rapper in the first place to the struggle of taking care of himself as a world famous idol to the questioning of what having an identity actually means, we will travel through Namjoon’s career and highlight all the moments that he asks himself:

“Who the hell am I?”

It’s no secret that Namjoon was a very intelligent and driven student who got good grades in school. In his earlier lyrics he often writes about the pressure that was put on him to succeed and follow a certain path in life. As someone who was good at studying it was expected of him to prioritize his education above all else. Namjoon fit into that role well, but behind the scenes his heart was longing for music. He discovered rap and decided that he wanted a different path for his life. BTS’s early work is filled with messages of following your dreams and not letting other people decide what type of life you want to live. Namjoon often talked about the struggles of living in between the expectations of those around him and his own desires for his future. Some of those conflicting feelings are expressed in Voice, the intro song to his 2015 mixtape RM:

Straight A student and underground rapper

I occupied myself all day with being graded with meaningless numbers like beef gets graded

I just wanted to succeed

because that’s the only thing I was told by others so much that I almost got sick of it

The mirage called happiness- I thought it would be held there

But, sitting at my desk, I was never happy, not for a single moment

I secretly hid a blank sheet of paper between the pages of my study book without my mom’s knowing

My identity that I wrote down along the sound of drums and bass

The feeling of breathing that is different from that of receiving grade reports

Even when I was the top of my class, my mind was never at ease

Is it absolutely necessary to want something that others want?

I secretly raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

I again raise the volume of my voice

so that you can know, so that it can reach you

He also touches on the subject in Born Singer, which was released in 2013:

To be honest, I was scared that I was to prove myself after talking big

that I, who used to know only pen and book, was then to surprise the world

I dunno, that I and the world’s expectations are too asymmetric,

I was scared that I might betray everyone who trusted me

I stretch my burdened shoulders and step onto the very first stage

BTS and Namjoon will continue to talk about the pressure of society's expectations and the difficulty of following your own path in songs like No More Dream, N.O and School of Tears. Fighting back against the oppressive school system is a huge part of their message and mission in their early career. They ask their fans and themselves to look at the person that they are expected to become and question if that image is in line with their own dreams and desires. Namjoon wrestled with this question himself, and therefore has the experience and passion to guide others who might be struggling with their identity and the identity that is put on them.

Idol and artist

The concept of being an idol vs being an artist is one that comes back often in BTS lyrics. Namjoon is an underground rapper who ended up in a boyband, and the identity of being an idol is one that he has wrestled with quite a bit. Can you be both an idol and an artist? Does becoming an idol mean that you have to give up on being an artist? Does it matter if you call yourself an idol or an artist? Does it matter what other people say about it?

Namjoon mentions this conflicting identity in Awakening on his 2015 mixtape RM:

Every night I fight myself inside me

My heart pounds, and my colleagues stab me in the back

saying I became a cripple after going into a company

Yeah fuck you I’m an idol, yeah yeah i’m an idol

I hated it at one time but now I love to get that title

Unlike some keep denying [their identity] to the end on television,

I now fully accept myself, and I just do me

Whether I’m an idol or an artist- it actually never mattered

The way you guys look at me was what defined me

I was obsessed over titles and hung up on how people described me

Listen to the rap of the guy who became a bit smarter as time passed

Namjoon gets shit for being an idol from the underground rap scene and gets shit for being an artist from the idol scene. He is hovering in between, writing his rap lyrics with the power and authenticity of a hip hop artist while simultaneously dancing and looking like a full fledged boyband member. He responds to this dilemma with unwavering pride, the drive to prove himself and a fuck you attitude. This energy dominates a lot of early BTS music. They are still trying to find their place in the industry while not really knowing where exactly they belong. Songs like the Cyphers and Mic Drop highlight the anger they feel about the mistreatment they face from both sides of the industry while boasting about their accomplishments and pride in who they are. Just like Namjoon in Awakening, Yoongi also often mentions his struggles with the identity of being an idol in his solo work. In Idol, the title track of the 2018 album Love Yourself: Answer, BTS face the subject head on:

You can call me artist

You can call me idol

Or you can call me anything else

I don’t care

I’m proud of it

I’m free

No more irony

Because I’ve been me all the time

You can point your fingers at me, I don’t care at all

Whatever reason you have to denigrate me,

I know what I am

I know what I want

I never gon’ change

I never gon’ trade

Why do you talk loud “blah blah”

I do what I do, so mind your own business

You can’t stop me loving’ myself

Idol is a proud, joyful, wonderfully weird and confident self love anthem. It’s a celebration of who BTS are at their core. In the song, they have accepted all the different aspects of their identity and they don’t feel the need to fit in with just one label. In the future, they will go on to say that BTS’s genre is just BTS, and they see no point in categorizing themselves.

RM and Namjoon

In 2018, BTS released a documentary series called Burn The Stage. The series followed them throughout the Wings tour and was supposed to show a more raw version of them.

In episode 6, Namjoon said:

Being an idol star, you don’t have a choice but to have two identities. I invested a lot in my identity as BTS and RM, and this is really a dilemma. We need to find ways to overcome this, and I’m trying different things. I study, I read books. I need time to be wholly me, the original me that I know.

Everyone in BTS has a stage name, a person they become when they present themselves in front of their fans. On stage Namjoon is RM, a fierce and confident rapper, a powerful and charming performer, a dependable leader and someone who lives a fiery and intense life.

Behind the scenes, Namjoon is Namjoon, a man in his twenties who is trying to figure out how to be an adult just like everyone else. He likes to go on bike rides, take care of plants, go to museums, read books and spend time in nature. He gets lazy and reads webtunes for 5 hours straight and sometimes argues with the people around him because they annoy him.

Namjoon spends the years of his youth as part of BTS, in the public eye, and sometimes that causes tension between these different parts of himself; the stage persona and the private person. In Break The Silence: The Movie which came out in 2020, there was a lot of talk about identity. During one of Namjoon’s segments he said:

There is also the fear of how well I’m taking care of myself, the Kim Namjoon as a person. Aside from money, fame, and a sense of calling, what do I really have? When you have those things all other things start to feel really valuable. Those who don’t have them would find them really special. I think it’s a repetition of that, so for me, there is a fear about whether I’m faithfully living the story of my life to the fullest.

He also mentions this dilemma in Airplane pt.2 on the 2018 album Love Yourself: Tear where the lyrics go:

Who should I live as today, Kim Namjoon or RM?

25, I still don’t know how to live well

For Namjoon and anyone in BTS, there is no simple answer to this question, as the nature of their job puts them in a position that makes it hard for them to develop a sense of self outside of the work they are doing. Even though Namjoon is part of an incredibly successful band, that doesn't mean he got it all figured out. As he has poured his youth and his energy into becoming the best performer he can be, he now feels like the Kim Namjoon behind the scenes deserves some energy and space to exist too.

Rap Monster and RM

Before Namjoon was RM, Namjoon was Rap Monster, a stage name that he used until November of 2017. The name Rap Monster fits the fierce and somewhat angst-ridden style of music that Namjoon was making in the beginning of his career. He decided to move on from the name in 2017 because it was no longer representative of him and the music that he was making.

In an interview with Entertainment Tonight Namjoon said that RM could stand for many things. He mentioned Real Me as one of the possibilities, but seems to prefer not to pin one specific meaning to the name.

In another interview with J-14 Magazine when asked what kind of advice he would give to himself in 2013, he said:

Hey Namjoon, Don’t name yourself Rap Monster. You’re a human. You’re not a monster. You’re a beautiful human.

Namjoon has often said that one of his missions in life is to love himself. This struggle to love himself often reflects in his lyrics, and now also in his decision to change his stage name, as the old one had some negative connotations to it. Perhaps Namjoons struggle with self acceptance, self worth and self love is one of the reasons that identity is such a big theme for him, as he is trying to figure out how to be a Namjoon that he can love. RM is a stage name that is more aligned with that goal as it leaves more room for flexibility and change.

Map of the Soul

The subject of identity is explored to the fullest in the Map of the Soul era that started with Map of the Soul: Persona in 2019, followed up by Map of the Soul: 7 in 2020.

Map of the Soul is inspired by the ideas of psychiatrist and psychoanalyst Carl Gustav Jung. The words persona, shadow and ego that are used in Map of the Soul come directly from his theory. BTS uses these concepts to examine different parts of themselves and their career over time. A lot of this era feels like a final examination of the question that Namjoon has been asking himself in different ways throughout his entire career: Who am I?

In Intro: Persona, the opener to both albums, Namjoon writes about his journey with identity in the first few lines of the song:

“Who am I,” a question that I’ve been asking myself for my whole life

A question that I will probably never be able to find the right answer for

If I were answerable with only a few words,

God wouldn’t have created all those many beauties

Namjoon realizes that he will probably never have a clear answer to the question of “who am I?” and he accepts that. He recognizes that his identity can’t be summed up by a few words or traits and that this isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it can feel more secure to build our entire sense of identity around one aspect of ourselves (I am a straight A student, I am an underground rapper) but that puts us in a position without flexibility and without space for growth. As different parts of ourselves clash with each other we end up feeling scattered, unsure of who we are, and angry at ourselves. It’s only when those different parts of ourselves are allowed to co-exist that we can find peace and a true sense of self.

BTS will talk about this idea in other songs too, like in Idol, where Taehyung sings:

There are tens and hundreds of myself within me

Today, I greet my another self

They are all me after all,

so I just run rather than worrying

The notion also comes back in the speech that BTS held for the United Nations in 2018. The final message of that speech was to find your name and find your voice by speaking yourself. There was a lot of talk about losing your identity as a young child in favor of fitting in, and Namjoon encouraged everyone to be their own person and to find their own voice back. Throughout the speech he mentions how he is both an idol and artist, Kim Namjoon and RM, and also just an ordinary 24 year old guy. He is saying that he can be many things at once and strives to love all those different parts of himself at the same time.

In the final verses of Intro: Persona, Namjoon boldly and confidently claims that he is no longer ashamed of the different parts inside of him, writing:

Yeah my name is R

The ‘me’ who I remember and who people know

The ‘me’ who I created by myself to speak my mind

Yeah, I might have been deceiving myself, I might have been lying

But, I’m not ashamed of it, this is the map of my soul

The lyrics continue, focusing on duality, complexity and balance within his identity, accepting the different parts of himself that coexist together even if they clash:

Dear myself

You must never lose your temperature

because you don’t need to be warm or cold

Though I might sometimes pretend I’m good and sometimes pretend I’m evil,

this is the barometer of my direction that I want to set

The ‘me’ who I want to be

The ‘me’ who people want

The ‘me’ who you love

And the ‘me’ who I craft

The ‘me’ who’s smiling

The ‘me’ who’s crying sometimes

Living and breathing every second, every moment, even now

Within these lyrics there is a tone of direction and intent rather than one of being lost and questioning. This tone is very strong throughout the entire Map of the Soul concept, especially in ON, suggesting that maybe “finding” your identity isn’t about anxiously defining every single part of your personality, it’s more about choosing who you want to be and boldly pursuing the world as an incomplete human being. In the end, there is no simple answer to the question of “who am I?” and that’s okay.

All lyrics translations come from Doolset. Visit the website for additional notes and interpretations of BTS lyrics.